Isn’t that authentic enough?

There’s a time and place for the vulnerability contest.

But we live in a noisy and crowded world. Anytime anyone creates anything, they compete with everyone. And there are only so many hours in the day.

So you may as well melt my face off. Because that’s going to make me want to do things that melt other people’s faces off.

Which keeps the gift in motion. It keeps the inspiration cycle going. It fosters a culture of generosity, where creators contribute their best work, and in turn, inspire others to do the same.

Compare that model to the commodification of trauma and emotional oversharing. When we incentivize emotional vulnerability as a currency for connection and attention, people feel pressured to share deeper and more personal traumas just to stand out. This creates a dynamic of perforative pain. Where there’s no healing, only suffering as spectacle.

Now people are just trying to out vulnerable each other. Aggressive authenticity creates pressure to continually up the ante, not unlike an addict whose tolerance grows. They need twice the dose just to get the same high.

Society isn’t helped when vulnerability becomes an exhausting race to see who can be the most exposed. All that does is reinforce our victim mentality.

Piers was ranting about this on a recent podcast, and I felt validated that my theory isn’t completely bonkers. Here’s what the journalist observed.

“People become almost famous for failure and celebrated for it. I was brought up where you celebrated success and drowned your sorrows with failure. You didn’t let it take you down or destroy you. You dusted yourself off and got back on with it. But the idea of celebrating failure, the idea of celebrating coming last at the school sports day, or where everyone gets a participation prize even if they were terrible at something, no! Don’t be the leper with the most fingers. Don’t be the best loser. Don’t mistake that for actual glory or winning. Society is warped because we celebrate failure, and we’ve started to feel bad about winners.”

Piers’s philosophy resonates deeply with me, and I’m the least competitive person you will ever meet.

I actually couldn’t give two shits about winning and being the best.

But I do respect my talents. I do believe in growth. I do make meaning by using my skills in the service of others. I do find fulfillment by expanding my skills to continually contribute at a higher level than before.

Isn’t that authentic enough?