Looking for Fairness in a Luck-Bound World

I'm still trying to figure out the best way to format this site. Where should I put these articles? While I try to work this out, I'll be posting two copies of this one: the one here, which will start off at the top and work its way down toward obscurity, and a copy on the Impractical in Practice page, with a few more bells, whistles and thrilling formatting options, which I can arrange by importance and topic instead of by date. But since you're here now, please enjoy this report on the meaning of meritocracy.

I came across a review article today that's either profoundly heartening or deeply depressing, depending. "The Role of Luck in Life Success Is Far Greater Than We Realized," the title announces, and the article itself goes on to discuss a number of studies that show just that. For those of us who think of success as an important component of happiness – and that's most of the people I know – this has important ramifications.

It appears that a vast and varied hodgepodge of researchers – including physicists, psychologists, risk analysts and investment strategists – have all been looking into talent and luck as they relate success. Smarter, more creative, more emotionally intelligent people are able to make better use of their opportunities, but simply having those traits isn't enough for a person to get ahead. Author and researcher Scott Barry Kaufman explains that "more talented people are going to be more likely to get the most 'bang for their buck' out of a given opportunity," but that it takes a good deal of luck to get the cycle moving in the first place. And often, Kaufman explains, less talented people are able to go farther just because they get a lucky break.

Success breeds success, as they say. Once someone has been recognized as successful, they are more likely to be rewarded for that success again – being given a better job offer, or another grant, or some other award that then becomes a stepping stone toward the next success.

A pair of physicists and an economist developed a simple simulation to measure the importance of talent against luck. Success, as it turns out, was not all that closely associated with talent. At the end of the simulation game, just 2% of the simulated people ended up with 44% of the accolades. All-in-all, Kaufman explains, "mediocre-but-lucky people were much more successful than more-talented-but-unlucky individuals."

These results are actually a good thing.

What you want the most is the hardest to find

Why is it hard for so many people to control their appetites? I came across an interesting theory, proposing that it's the result of natural selection.[1] What we want the most, the theory goes, is what's hardest to find. Those earlier hominids that went for the big calories and rare nutrients like fats and salts instead of low-cal, common veggies when they had the chance, were more likely to live to fight another day, and also have sex later, and pass those proclivities on to the next generation. So when you're looking through the pantry, an ancient voice in the back of your brain, passed down through the long eons before the rise of Nabisco, whispers, There will always be broccoli, but this may be the last Oreo you ever see… The traits we want the most in ourselves are the hardest to find.

The same, I think, is true of empathy, and calm, and many other things: what we want the most is the hardest to find – in ourselves and in others, too.

I was reminded of this recently. Someone I know seemed to be working really hard to pick a fight with me, and it pissed me off enough that I was just about to give it to him.

My friend Benton kicked my butt about it. "What do you think he's going through?" he demanded.

Yes. Right. Like I said, empathy is hardest to find when you need to find it the most. And failing that, mellowness.

This is one of the realizations that spills over the side when someone practices meditation.

One sultry night in Bangkok many years ago, just before the turn of the millennium, I was hanging out with the sister of a friend of mine, and his young nephew. My friend – let's not mince words here – couldn't be trusted. Still, she kept him on at her shop, selling trinkets and little statues at the market down by the Jao Praya River.

"He steals from me," she told me.

"Then why is he still working for you?"

 

Notes:

[1] This comes from a secondary source I taught in my days at UCSD, a book called Human Natures: Genes, Cultures, and the Human Prospect, by Paul Ehrlich (published Penguin Books in 2002), p. 287.

And so it goes

This being the first week of Impractically Happy’s existence, I just had to laugh when I saw this. Such is life.

Here’s to continuing to have fun on the internet, with or without everyone’s approval.

A Few Introductions

At the end of December, 2017, my mechanic discovered a crack in the frame of my bicycle, just where the cross bar meets the post that holds up the seat. In December and January the sun never rises too high in the sky over San Diego, and the wind blows gently through the arroyos and over the mesas. Perfect bike-riding weather. But while the manufacturer agreed to honor my bike's lifetime warranty, it would take weeks to ship a new extra-tall frame to the west coast and get it assembled. I wouldn't be cycling this January. I'd turned in my grades a week before, and since California State University offers its faculty an unusually long winter break, I knew how I was going to pass my days.

"Time to build that website," I said to myself.