We’re naturally selfish.
Millennia of status games have honed our ability to get while the getting’s good (often at the expense of others).
Which begs the question:
Why play positive-sum games? Why not optimise for personal gain right here, right now?
The answer, I believe, lies in your email inbox.
Think about it like this – in slow-growing, stagnant environments, the total rewards available remain relatively constant.
There are only a certain number of spots in the cardiology training program. Only a certain number of partners at the law firm or tenured professors at the university.
When the number of people increases, the pie has to be divided more ways.
To increase the size of your slice, you tear other people down. Your performance is tied to a set of metrics, but those metrics don’t have to mean anything in reality.
The scoreboard is king, but the sport is outdated.
And so people spend their careers shuffling emails between inboxes, jumping through hoops in the hope of being granted access to the next level of the game.
But this all changes when we come into contact with reality.
When people are judged against real, useful, undeniable metrics, they either get better or fall by the wayside.
Over time, this creates a culture of competence, realism, and net growth.
And because of this net growth, the pie gets bigger.
(Corollary: if there is minimal/no net growth, the metrics probably aren’t right.)
Why is this important? Because when the pie’s getting bigger, I don’t have to steal from you to feed myself. When the pie’s getting bigger, I can think long term.
And when I can think long term, I’m exposed to the upside of compounding.
Instead of getting while the getting’s good, I can give without expecting immediate return.
I can leave money on the table, and plant trees I’ll never sit under.
When short-term generosity is long-term selfishness, we become unstoppable.