Shahar Madjar, MD

In my last article I told you about two successful falafel shops in Haifa, Israel, which I saw as a good example for competitive co-existence. Competition, however, doesn’t always result in a fruitful co-existence. We learn from watching sports, from listening to the news, and from our own experience at work and in our relationships that competition often turns into a zero-sum game: The winner takes all, and those who come second, or last, are often called “losers.” Under these circumstances, do you want to be a winner? Are you willing to risk losing? Do you want to participate in the game? Do you have a choice?

As a highly competitive person, I have skin in the game, but I will get to it later. Meanwhile, I wanted to share with you a few observations I made about competition.

Competition relies on comparisons. In some instances, comparing yourself to others is a gift of Nature to you. Without the ability to compare, your mere existence would be in question. Example: you are in the woods facing a wild boar. You compare yourself to the beast. You ask yourself, Is this wild boar stronger, faster, angrier than me? The correct answer will make you climb a nearby tree. The wrong answer might result in your early demise. In other instances, comparing yourself to others is both burdensome and fruitless. Example: Is my neighbor’s lawn greener?

Competition results in only one winner or in a very small minority of the participants taking part in the competition. Only one person takes the gold medal; the others often become insignificant wannabes; they are often declared losers despite being talented, highly motivated, hard-working, even accomplished.

Winning is temporary. If the winner quits after winning, he will be labeled a “quitter,” a “loser,” or a “quitting loser.” If the winner stays in the competition for long enough, another competitor will ultimately rise to take their title.

Winning is the culmination of luck and hard work. Hard work is glorified. The role of luck is conveniently overlooked. Examples of lucky people who are more likely to achieve success and to win: anyone with an exceptional intelligence (Nobel winners in Physics), people with artistic inclinations, or physical attributes (an Olympic swimmer, a model); also most people born into the higher echelon of the society in peaceful times.

Winning is often a consequence of applying arbitrary decisions. Imagine a competition among all writers, dead or alive. Who is the best of writers? Is it Shakespeare, Hemingway, perhaps Scott Fitzgerald? Which criteria should be used? Who is to decide? Lacking objective criteria, the decision is often made by a poll or by a designated group of judges. It often ends up being highly subjective, almost a popularity contest.

When winning is based on objective measures, the winner often takes the championship by ridiculously small margins. Example: On October 30, 1974, Muhammad Ali became the heavyweight champion of the world for the second time when he knocked out George Foreman in the eighth round of the “Rumble in the Jungle,” a match in Kinshasa, Zaire. My own take on the fight? These two men were very strong. And if I were to meet them, face to face, I wouldn’t want to upset either of them. It is because I have an irrational fear of being knocked out.

Winning is never an all-encompassing experience. As the song by Saska Fame declares: you win some and lose some but you live. In other words, winning typically takes focusing on a singular goal. You put all of your energy in one basket. It often comes at the expense of other worthy goals. The best pianist won’t necessarily be the richest man in the world, or the most affectionate father. Often, winning in one area of life requires sacrifices which prevents winning in other aspects in life.

Winning is achieved by either pushing yourself ahead, or by strategically slowing down the competition (can you be ruthless? Do you want to be ruthless?)

For many, competition, even when it results in winning, is an exhausting process that may result in mental health issues. The excitement of the competition, the rewards, the recognition, the love one experiences during the competition and (if they win) immediately after it ends often give way to a feeling of emptiness and loneliness. In the HBO’s sports documentary ‘The Weight of Gold,’ a film that explores the mental challenges of Olympic athletes, Gracie Gold, a decorated American figure skater describes what it was like to battle depression: “It was like my life was a snow globe, and I could look in and I could see everything that was happening, but I couldn’t be involved. There was just this wall separating me from the rest of the world.” Other olympians who were interviewed for the documentary described other mental health challenges. Winning, it turns out, can come at a steep price.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Dr. Shahar Madjar is a urologist at Aspirus and the author of “Is Life Too Long? Essays about Life, Death and Other Trivial Matters.” Contact him at smadjar@yahoo.com.