On humility

For the longest time, I’ve had this understanding of humility that has gotten me into a lot of trouble. I always believed that the social acrobatics associated with being humble are fake, destructive, and, indeed, arrogant. There’s not a lot of humility in society.

What we have is curated groups of identical people who don’t threaten each other’s status, plus the occasional overachiever who gets by continuously reminding everyone that he poses no threat to them. They do so by pretending to know less than they do, thanking people for things they haven’t done, and constantly parading one’s shortcomings so that the others feel ok.

I always found these practices cowardly and intellectually dishonest. I never had any intention of engaging in them just out of respect for my own boundaries. I always wanted to seek humility in what I found to be a more coherent and productive view.

I believe that humble is he who does not think that he’s better than his peers. I don’t think I’m better than anyone and I’ve always found that enough. I have recently found out why people struggle with that.

Not thinking something simply means that one doesn’t have that thought. You just don’t think it the same way you don’t think of many other things.

For instance, one doesn’t think of the atomic weight of Ayadium because, unfortunately, Ayadium is not a thing yet. One doesn’t think of the atomic weight of Berkelium because one doesn’t know that Berkelium is, in fact, a thing. One doesn’t think of zebra milk because zebra milk never crosses one’s mind. One doesn’t think of their accountant's underwear because when this colorful thought does pop up in one’s mind, one refrains from thinking about it, usually.

Not thinking something only means that it’s not part of one’s thoughts, no other implications are in order, and no inferences can be drawn.

So when I say that humility is about not thinking one is better, the obvious question is: In which way do I not think it? Is it like the atomic weight of Ayadium or Berkelium? Is it like Zebra Milk? Or is it like my accountant’s underwear?

One thing I know for sure is that better, unlike Ayadium, does exist, at all times. Someone is always better than someone. It’s subjective, it’s contextual, and maybe it's unfair and shouldn't be known. But it’s there and sometimes, though not often, we can access it with a high degree of certainty. So it’s not like Ayadium and berkelium, because it exists and we know it exists.

We can also rule out zebra milk because at least for me, this thought of who is better does pop up amongst my thoughts more often than I care to admit. Competitiveness is not a sin.

I refrain from thinking I’m better than people just like I refrain from thinking of my accountant’s underwear, usually.

For me, I don’t want to think of this. I don’t find blanket statements like “better” helpful to me. It’s an exhausting view of the world and I chose to opt out of it. Refraining from thinking this an opportunity for peace and sanity. It’s productive, kind, and generous. That sounds a lot like the virtue that I want to pursue, not some societal crap that nobody benefits from.

But that isn’t enough for anyone reading this. You don’t think it’s enough for me to not think this. You want me to actively think that I’m your equal. I don’t think that, I don’t think it's the opposite either. I just don’t think of you, almost ever. You’re like Zebra milk. I know you exist but you just never crossed my mind until now.

I have enough thoughts in my head and none of them are about you. I’m trying to chase Taleb and Von Clausewitz, people who, unlike me, make sense and don’t write hokum. That’s what’s constantly on my mind, that’s what motivates and depresses me both at the same time. I think about how much these people are better than me. It’s not like zebra milk. It’s like cow's milk. Everything I do reminds me of it.

One thought has brought me immeasurable peace. It’s this idea of “Nobody will ever know.” The acrobatics of humility are not humility. They are social devices meant to reassure others of one’s genuine position. It’s advertising. I wouldn’t call it virtue-signaling because that entails a level of intentionality that most people don’t carry. It’s just habit. I’m sure that there’s plenty of wisdom behind the habit of dressing humility is a cloak of social fakery. But at least for me, suffice to know that it’s unnecessary.

The moment I’m comfortable with the idea that there are things that nobody will ever know, the pressure to perform these societal rituals fades from my morality engine. All I have to do is calibrate my social efforts to how much bullshit I can tolerate.