SELF DELUSION
Self Delusion
BY MARK TWIGHT
This was going to remain hidden with a link buried in the session review of a particular day but I received a bunch of comments from people who read it, two of which changed my mind about the screed's purpose. It was a rant, and commentary so I figured it shouldn't be placed in the Knowledge section but a couple of friends convinced me that there is something to be learned from it.
The first comment to get me thinking was this:
"We give a shit because we're tweakers, idealists, type-A perfectionists. We believe that the world could be bigger, better, faster if people were able to commit, do, stick-to-it. We've lived it in our individual pursuits, been mediocre, become exceptional, even if being exceptional has mostly shown us how much further we have to (and can) go. But most don't make much effort -- or worse, disguise their laziness to themselves through self-deception -- so we get pissed off."
The second sealed the deal:
"The self delusion piece needs to have a better home on the website than a link on one day. I think it should be mandatory reading for anybody looking at the site."
So OK. Why not? Flame on, Johnny.
In a passage from “The Philosophy of Risk” Jeff Connor describes a scene in which a client, who was over-the-top full of himself blathered, “I did this, and I did that” hoping to impress Dougal Haston with his accomplishments. According to a witness Haston “was just standing humming away quietly, and the guy stopped for a while, and Dougal butted in: ‘No, tell us some more about how great you are.’” It reminded me of similar personalities and experiences.
Every now and then I lose my mind and begin surfing the web. This lapse in judgment often leads to disgust but no more so than when I run across the delusional blather of someone misinformed about his physical and psychological capacities. At first these broadcast delusions make me laugh, and sometimes I sift through the drivel because I like a good train wreck as much as anyone else. But eventually the electronic byproduct of consistent self-deception makes me sick. I recognize such fantasies because I was a teenager once. However, while my chosen sport weeded out the delusional, killing many of them along the way, I somehow passed its tests. Lacking similar trials, or boundaries, or anyone who might call bullshit, the Internet poser is never rehabilitated. Rather he thrives before an audience who doesn’t know the difference.
I recently ran across a blogger who imagines himself a bike racer, and apparently a quite a good one, though actual performance on the road, on the day, is conspicuously absent. To keep things in perspective it’s worth visiting the Saris website to review power data generated by (real) racers contesting the hardest events in the world. A look at the wattage generated by Martijn Maaskant on his way to a fourth place finish in the 2008 Paris-Roubaix should resolve any misconceptions one might have about his place in the bicycling food chain. To understand what the graphs mean strap a power meter to a bike and try to put out an average of 272 watts for two hours (Maaskant did it for six) then, at the end of those two hours, step on the gas to average 340 watts for five minutes. Lacking the genetic gift sharpened by specific training and fitness, achieving and maintaining such a level of intensity should be possible when hell is about to freeze over.
Many sports – not just Hemingway’s three – feature objective measuring sticks and periodic tests wherein an individual may experience the certainty of his capacities. The bullshit limiter included in those three (“bullfighting, motor racing, and mountaineering”)* punishes self-delusion with injury or death. But sports or “games” without clear rules or objective means of measure and comparison may be “interpreted” without consequence: events are misremembered and romanticized because the definition of success is ambiguous in the first place. The Internet poser’s world is hazy: he passes off sporting sub-disciplines for the real thing, hints at things he might do, under-reports the results of things he has done, foregoes events that offer genuine competition, short-strokes reps in the gym, refuses to use objective measuring tools (perhaps to evade the truth), and contrives virtual challenges through which he draws an apparent association with the legitimate event and its participants. This shit makes me sick.
It’s common for climbers to embellish or under-report their activities. Guys pull on gear when no one is looking and call it a free ascent. Others traverse around the hard sections and claim to have done the route, or do ice routes in Grade 5 conditions but broadcast their climb as Grade 7 since that’s how hard it was during the first ascent. I once thought that behavior restricted to the sport I lived and loved but attention-whores who spray half-truths and hype to attract an audience are everywhere.
I should have grown out of caring about how others behave, especially when it doesn’t affect me. I haven’t. Some days I am petty and when I discover words or actions that diminish the value of a sport or discipline or ideal I care about I get pissed. Today is one of those days.
Usually, I don’t care what others do as long as they truthfully say what they do. But insecure people decorate their achievements, “interpreting” the truth to drag it within reach, which devalues the accomplishments of those who respected the truth. The Internet poser polishes his turds to garner approval. Blogs make this more convenient than ever. Anyone can be anything. “Friends” post comments telling the blogger how great he is, which alleviates his need to convince himself. If it’s posted in the “comments” section it must be true.
As a society we don’t test because we don’t want to know. We put the ball on a tee to be certain of a hit. Participation earns a trophy. Podiums have five steps. There is no penalty for losing. This, when virtually every coach and player and thinker agree that losing teaches the lessons; while winning results from having learned (and applied) those lessons. Without tests or boundaries how is one supposed to grow? When everyone is a winner who is left to learn the lessons? Conscious rejection of objective measuring sticks and periodic tests suggests the decline and fall of mankind. Today we’re a species of pretenders, and wanna-bes, and (in this country) obesity. I say bring on the killer cockroaches and whoever survives can start this party over.
Martijn Maaskant, Paris-Roubaix
* This quote, "There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor racing, and mountaineering; all the rest are merely games" is generally attributed to Hemingway. However it may have originated with Barnaby Conrad or Ken Purdy, a writer who wrote a character named Helmut Ovden, modeled on Hemingway.