Without Competition, “Exceptional” Trends Toward “Average”

About a year ago I was approached by some business leaders who, for lack of a better term, were building a kind of unique “fraternity” of high achievers and asked if I would be one of their speakers.

By “high achievers” they meant they were looking for people who were successful in broad facets of life—be it financial success, athletic achievement, spiritual well-being, or the ability to overcome a daunting life event. They wanted people who were successful in raising a balanced and healthy family, skilled at making friendships and forming relations with others across a broad range of political and social beliefs, and, most importantly, still wanted to grow, meet like-minded achievers, and in some way compete as they got older.

“So you want to build a kind of social peloton group,” I said. “Have them compete against each other, kind of push them within their peer groups.”

“Exactly,” they replied. “But much, much deeper. We want people who run marathons, not 5Ks . . .”

Count me out, I thought. I’m doing well to run to the shitter from the kitchen. Though occasionally I find myself peeking at the peloton leaderboard and thinking there’s no way I’m letting some fifty-six-year-old neurologist from Scranton beat me on the twenty-minute country rock ride.

“We want people that start foundations, not just attend fundraisers,” they continued.

Count me out again, I said to myself. I don't do either, though I did go to a Wild Turkey Federation fundraiser once because they had killer barbecue on the menu. I even won a twelve-gauge shotgun in the raffle.

Then they told me a secret (a secret—being an ER doc—that I already knew): many high-achieving people have serious demons and and sadly find it hard to form new friendships, especially after age thirty, either because of jealousy or envy or a fear on their part that they have to hide their success and failures in case a new acquaintance might pass judgment on them or be out to exploit their friendship for personal gain. High-achievers are also incredibly reluctant to talk about issues that impact them personally—whether mental health or family issues, sexual performance, addiction, fear of being alone or forgotten or dying, because they are afraid of sullying a persona they strive to carry in the public sphere.

I started listening closer, because this hit home for me, having nearly lost a child to cancer and having achieved some degree of success as a writer and as a physician. I understood this reluctance. And now, especially during this COVID-19 pandemic, I was feeling a bit empty, like my life had stalled. Outside of fishing on occasion and riding my bike, I found myself walking the world in concrete boots, eating too much, sleeping too little, perhaps a bit too much scotch and cigars. So I listened as they inquired about my willingness to talk to their members on some of the complicated social issues highlighted in my writing . . . and I listened. Because unbeknownst to them, they were talking about me. 

“Outside of lectures and workshops, we want to do adversity exercises—things like spending a night as a homeless person, or going a week without using any hot water, running a 10K, or being commited to leaving social media or changing sleeping patterns, or even abstaining from sex,” they said.

Time to go fishing, I thought.

“We want to compel members to see and experience the world through different lenses, hike the Grand Canyon and Patagonia, step way, way out of their comfort zones, expose their vulnerabilities in a judgment-free and anonymous forum. We want to immerse members who are of the ‘I am never too busy to improve’ mind-set in nontraditional topics such as stoicism, dealing with lifequakes, grit testing, end-of-life planning, starting a charitable foundation, or those who just want to put 2020 in a rearview mirror. We want to pool together a fraternity of successful people open to being life learners,” they said enthusiastically.

I reflected on my own path—the path that most every physician, every attorney and professional athlete, and most all highly successful people already know: many successful people often grow through quantification and competition which, in the end, ultimately leads to cooperation, fellowship, and friendship. Damn near every professional athlete has a best friend who was once their fiercest competitor. All highly successful people know this on some level. It’s what really drives creativity and leads to innovation.

I’ve always always been of the mind-set that “exceptional” trends toward “average” when competition is taken out of the equation . . . even if you’ve already made it.

These guys might just be on to something, I thought. They are using a kind of competitive peer pressure to force already highly successful people to continue to grow, to maintain a level of excellence, and to improve the world around them by jump-starting their own lives first. 

And I thought to myself . . . damn if I’m gonna let some fifty-six-year-old neurologist from Scranton beat me at this.

I’m in.

Note: To be transparent, I have agreed to be a speaker for the Wallace McGee Performance Academy and have also decided to take the challenge and enroll...but there is no way in hell I’m running a 10k. 

Dr. Louis M. Profeta is an emergency physician practicing in Indianapolis and a member of the Indianapolis Forensic Services Board. He is a national award-winning writer, public speaker and one of LinkedIn's Top Voices and the author of the critically acclaimed book, The Patient in Room Nine Says He's God. Feedback at louermd@att.net is welcomed. For other publications and for speaking dates, go to louisprofeta.com. For college speaking inquiries, contact bookings@greekuniversity.org.