In Aldous Huxley’s dystopian novel Brave New World, there are two major characters which are dissatisfied with society. The first is Heimholtz Watson, a popular and successful Alpha Male Type. By all accounts he is at the top of society, but he finds it restrictive and objectionable from an Ethical standpoint. Thus his rebellious stance is quite pure and principled. The other is Bernard Marx, an accident of science who was born stunted and emotionally disturbed compared to all the other members’ of the Society’s Elite. He develops a hatred for the world because of his Outcast status – he can’t find the love of women, being the primary symptom. As soon as he brings John the Savage back from the wilds and becomes a celebrity as a result, all his objections about society’s unfairness melt away.
I have often felt that I am a “Bernard” type of social outcast – I am not principled enough to object to society based on intellectual grounds, but do so merely because my circumstances are negative compared to many. And I have thought a lot since reading that book about the “Complaints of the Loser,” how so many people who are deficient by society’s standards hold hatreds against that society due to its denigration of them. The primary question I have is this: are such a “Loser’s Complaints” valid? Is there something genuinely wrong with the way the world works, is the deck stacked against him… or does the “Loser” really have only himself to blame for his unfortunate fate? Is it all just childish whining?
This topic comes up in conversation with my friends quite frequently, and often for an extended period of time. I am a very pathetic, defeated man – my life is in shambles, I live due to the benevolence of others, I am lazy, selfish, riddled with neuroses and anxieties, I don’t take care of my body, I am a virtual Recluse on the cusp of Middle Age… and I no longer make any efforts to change any of this. Of course I have many of the “Complaints of the Loser,” to the point where I believe my Mind and Soul are so defective that, placed in a society with such high competitiveness and emphasis on discipline and willpower, it was impossible for me to be anything but a failure. I have gone through phases in the past where I have tried to change – but much like an alcoholic going to rehab – I always fall back off the wagon, so many times that I view it as an exercise in futility, a meaningless gesture that will only set me up for disappointment later on. It’s not worth the trouble anymore. And I firmly believe that most of my circumstances are outside my control.
My friends, on the other hand, are almost, to a man, gung-ho about personal responsibility. They don’t go quite so far as to claim that I could be a superstar actor or an NBA player, but they do believe for the most part that a man’s success is determined primarily by the amount of effort he puts into it. They also accuse me of clinging to my Defeatist world-view so I have a continued excuse to be lazy and shiftless. I don’t think I cling to it just for that reason – though it may be part of it – I cling to that world-view because it helps me to sleep at night. Even so, I sometimes fear that everyone is right about me and that I am a colossal failure merely because I haven’t tried. But how long does a person have to try before he realizes that success (in whatever endeavor he is undertaking) just isn’t a possibility? Until he dies?
I try to counter their arguments by giving examples of people in wheelchairs, people who are blind, and how that limits their options in life, but they always throw up absurd anecdotes of rare individuals who have achieved great success despite overwhelming limitations. Don’t you understand? I say. Those stories are well-known primarily because they are so rare! Yet they continue to hold up those infinitesimal possibilities as motivators for the rest of us who have been given the short end of the stick. I view this as unrealistic, and even cruel, to encourage mediocre people to have expectations of fame and wealth. I think it’s far better to realize your lot in life and learn to accept it.
That’s very hard to do in a society like ours, which I believe I have elaborated on in a previous entry. All the television and news coverage centers on the most famous – the most powerful – the most attractive – the most wealthy – almost to the point of obsession. Movies, books, comics, and games peal out great paeans to the Worthiness of our Heroes and how they all overcame adversity to become incredible.
I don’t understand why more people in society don’t realize these things. Although most of them are struggling in wage-slavery jobs, barely able to afford a bottle of liquor on the weekend, depressingly average in almost every respect – almost all of them will trumpet the virtues of individual responsibility and personal effort. Hey! I want to shout. Take a look at yourself! Where have all your heroic values gotten you? And of course their response would be: I haven’t tried hard enough. How can you live believing that every aspect of your mediocre life is due solely to your own personal failures? And likewise: great wealth is typically achieved with an astonishing amount of luck – the ability to be in the right place at the right time, doing exactly the right thing. Why can’t all these moguls and rockstars admit that?
Perhaps I do go too far, though. If everybody believed exactly as I did – that most of our life’s station is based on circumstances outside our control – nobody would have the motivation to do anything. I suppose that like everything some sort of balance is required – the ability to test your boundaries until you reach them, then recognizing them and adjusting into the life that suits you. The problem there is that I believe my boundaries are astonishingly low compared to everyone else’s. Despite my intelligence, vocabulary, and knack for computers, I believe that other circumstances – my gun-shy nature when it comes to failure, my lack of willpower, my inability to be satisfied no matter what position I am in – keeps me from achieving what an objective viewpoint would call my ideal station in life. After failing so hard at so much, I feel it’s the only rational way to understand my situation. And so I’ve given up.