Originally published on Jan 25, 2023
Successes and failures are inseparable parts of the humanity. Everything we do can be rated based on the outcome relative to our expectation. Successes and failures are not progress itself, but we often consider them to be the adjudicator that awaits us as we approach the finish line of all our endeavors and attempts. While the opinion of that adjudicator matters, it is the race itself that is the point. The judgement and guilt that come with failure hold so much sentimental influence on us that we may forfeit our efforts entirely and abandon an endeavor that is ever so close to success. Similarly, the satisfaction of success may overwhelm us with pride and lure us into the abyss of arrogance. Success and failure are the part of progress that the sooner we can properly manage our relationships with, the sooner we can focus on progress itself and not be distracted by our sentiments.
I admit, however, that it is incredibly difficult to separate ourselves from the emotions that comes with success and failure. In fact, it is our strong sentiments — our fear of failure and desire for success — that motivates us forward. Regardless, I would still argue that these sentiments are ultimately unproductive and that we should strive to evaluate our failures and successes objectively. The strength of the sentiments that follow successes and failures are intrinsically linked to how we evaluated our outcome. The stronger we expect the results to match our expectation, however high or low it may be, the strong we will react when they don’t. The key to managing our emotions, then, lies in accurately evaluating our performance and efforts, and adjusting our expectations accordingly.
Evaluating our performance
There are three levels of evaluation of our performance, from the most primitive and intuitive to the most mature and challenging.
At the first level, we consider only the emotional side of internal factors. In this level, we only consider how much time, focus, energy, and attention we devoted to our projects. We generally assume that the more effort we invest into something, the more likely it is to come to fruition. This is the most primitive level of evaluation because it disregards other factors that also significantly influence our outcomes. This is the most intuitive level of evaluation because it appeals to our sentiments. We understand very clearly the suffering and sacrifices we endured, and those memories can easily become the dominating rhetoric within us.
At the second level, we involve external factors into the equation. Those are factors that we have no control over, but still govern or determine our chances and levels of success. For a test, it may be the previous year’s average or how difficult the professor is; for a job application, it may be the number of applications for the same position; and for a business investment, how much risk there is. External factors also include arbitrariness (luck) and circumstances that falls in or against our favor. External factors are completely out of our control, and we examine them to calibrate our expectations. The nature of external factors means that we may never fully understand the orientation (for us or against us) and the strength and extent of our circumstances.
Furthermore, I would argue that external factors are, by nature, somewhat against the success of individual expression. Individual endeavors and expressions, by definition, are unique, to a certain degree, from the group and this uniqueness entails a certain degree of incompatibility with the norms of the collective. Like walking against the flow of the crowd, the existing norms of the collective, or status quo, contains a momentum that becomes the main force against individual expression. For all new ideas to be accepted, there must be an old, established one that is abolished.
At this level, the external factors are introduced to counter our emotional evaluation. We may devote a significant amount of resource to a project but still harbor low expectations if the external factors fall overwhelmingly against us. This level is more challenging for two reasons. Firstly, we are prone to emphasize the internal factor over the external factor because we are more emotionally exposed to the internal factors. The more effort we put in, the more invested we are into the outcome, and the more we emphasize the internal factors.
On the other hand, we often have very little idea of what external factors are and how significant they are. This is especially crucial for projects that rely on the reception of the outside world. A music album, for example, is not subject to external factors if the musician never publishes it. The album is as successful as the musician determines it to be. Should the musician decide to publish it, however, the album’s definition of success expands to include its ability to connect with listener. Success then becomes subject to an array of external factors, mainly public opinions, but also the demographic surveyed, their interests and their musical inclinations.
Even more challenging and mature, the third level of evaluation brings the synthesis of internal and external factors to the next level. Internally, we no longer focus on factors such as time, energy, and attention devoted. Rather, we consider only our performance from a practical and objective perspective. Or in other words, how good is our efforts, rather than how much efforts we put in. Then, we calculate our likelihood of success based on this practical analysis of our performance in relations to external factors.
At this level, there are two main challenges. Firstly, there is a complete rejection of sentiments and an understanding that sentimental values have no use in helping us evaluate our success, despite how much our emotions appeal to us. Secondly, a truce with the external factors of reality. What we can do and control are often minuscule in comparison to external factors. This revelation, in the face of defeat, may become difficult to accept. Being at ease with this reality is not a surrender to reality, it is rather a choice to focus on how we can practically solve our problem.
To demonstrate what this level of analysis looks like, I will use this article as an example. Internally, I may consider how much time I put in, but I should focus on its implications and how it improves my performance. I have put in three hours in to editing it, that means my article should be largely free of errors. Then, I should consider how effective my writing is, does it have structure, and how strong is my argument. Externally, I can consider the platform I’m using and the demographic I’m engaging. Have I published this at the right place? Are the readers on this platform interested in my topics? Are there any obstacles, such as age gap, cultural differences, and language barrier, between my readers and my ideas? Suppose that I determine that my efforts are practical and my work is objectively good, yet the reception to my ideas are terrible. A productive solution is to consider adopting a different style of writing or publishing on a different platform that has a different demographic.
In simpler terms, we should always try to remove the emotions from our evaluation of success. Overemphasizing the weight of our sentiments in the equation of success is often epitomized in the phrase: “I deserve it”. This phrase reflects the interpretation that, because of the emotional internal factors (time, resources, labor), the external factors are less relevant. But we don’t ever “deserve” anything: no level of efforts can ever completely guarantee success. External factors are cruel, sometimes fair, sometimes not, and sometimes completely random. They often have no regard for our efforts and no pity for our emotional investment.
And so should us. We should train ourselves to be more immune to the emotional effects of the internal factors and consider our chances of success more objectively, as if we are just another person in the race (and we are). There are a few very practical benefits of practicing this objectivity.
First, it improves our judgement. With a more objective perspective, we can more accurately estimate our chances of success and adjust our emotional expectations according. This can reduce emotional turmoil in the face of an “unexpected” defeat.
Second, it protects our potential. Our potential and our willingness to explore that potential is secured only by our ability to be untethered by the emotions of successes and failures. It is only when we are immune to those sentiments that we can focus on unlocking our potential.
Third, it allows us to achieve a more mature relationship with failures and successes. As scary as failures are, they are inevitable, but they should not determine our potential. The second we forfeit new opportunities because of past failures is the second we surrender to the fear of failure and we lose potential. Maturity towards failure is not being completely untethered by it, but accepting its reality and consequences, then continuing to venture forwards with more insight and experience than ever. Objectively evaluating our failures will help us to avoid associating ourselves as failures and help us fully learn how to improve our next attempt. If our chances of success were reasonable and we failed, then our failure was equally as reasonable, and we should definitely try again next time. If our chances of success were high but we failed, then we should consider the likelihood of arbitrariness (bad luck) and refuse to compromise our motivation on factors that we have no control over.
Similarly, it allows us to achieve a more mature relationship with successes. We should not be tethered by successes and become full of arrogance and entitlement. We should consider why we succeed carefully: if our chances were reasonable and we succeeded, then our success is reasonable and we should be wary of overestimating ourselves; if our chances were low and we succeeded, we should consider the likelihood of arbitrariness (luck) and refrain from expecting similarly good results next time.
Fourth, it restrains us from indulging in our emotions. Without consideration of external factors, we are left with no constrain to only consider our internal factors. A tunnel vision on the negative sentiments from failures can quickly become a vicious cycle that locks us in defeat. Similarly, if we fail to see how other people or luck contributed to our success, we may be overcome by the joy of success and overestimate our qualifications. Both of these cases demonstrate a lack of control over our emotions and will only make our lives less productive. By considering external factors, we limit how much influence sentiments can have over us.
Fifth, it helps us focus on progress, not avoiding failure and achieving success. When we are kidnapped by the feelings that comes with successes and failures, we might lose focus of the things we set out to do. We don’t set out to do things only to succeed in something, but we do things in the hopes of creating something and experiencing that journey along the way. As discouraging as a defeat feels, it is rarely devoid of valuable observations. Along the way, we might have learned an important skill, made long lasting connections, or experienced something unique. Failure does not determine the value of our experiences, and the less influenced we are by the sadness of failure, the more likely we are to appreciate the true values of experience.
Here, I have made numerous arguments in support of objectively evaluating our success and failure. But, as we are all human, we cannot and should not strip humanity of emotions. It is not about restraining ourselves from feeling sadness or joy, but it is about achieve a balance that allows us to feel, but also achieve our optimal productivity.
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