Dead People Have It Easy; You Can’t Compare.
It’s natural to compare yourself to others as a way of gauging how you’re getting on in life and how closely you’re matching their achievements. Some of the best and brightest in many fields were in rivalries with one another, even if they never bother to tell anyone else. Often people will compare themselves to idols they want to immulate. Many fans of Stephen King, Billie Eilish, Tiger Woods and many others ironically wish to one day overthrow them and sublimate. And then there are those whose idols aren’t even alive anymore.
It easy to look at the greats of sports, literature, art, science, and such and think that these gifted geniuses have left us a chasm of greatness to somehow jump over; a gap widened not only by a need to match their skill but also to surpass it. If we are to stand on the shoulders of giants, then we still need to arduously climb up to them. It’s from this monumental task that we feel like failures. Too old, too untalented, too late to match their legacies.
Orson Welles made Citizen Kane by 26.
Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein at 18.
Mozart wrote music that has lasted 200 years.
Plato is still being wrote after 2,300 years!
I know this feeling because I used to do it to myself. I used to think to myself “I have to be published at 23 because that’s when [INSERT NAME] was published” or “I have to own my own company by 30 because [INSERT NAME] had their company by 30”. But over the years I’ve come to appreciate why, while understandable, this line of thinking is unrealistic and detrimental.
Different Times, Different Standards.
My grandfather was the first person in his family to be literate, a rarity in early 20th century Ireland. It was so rare, people used to come to him to read their post and reply on their behave. When you think about it, chancers are the people on the other end were doing the same thing. There’s something funny about two strangers writing to each other on behalf of neighbours.
The reason I mention this is because it’s the reason he got a local government job, working in the country council.
That was it.
Job for life, government pension, a house and enough money for five kids with a long back garden in a seaside town, all because he was literate.
His son (my father) got the same job because of his father’s connection, yet, as time changed, due to cuts and recession, my father was forced to take early retirement, with a smaller pension than his own father. And then there’s me; just as (if not more) literate than my grandfather, but no government job, no pension, no family, and no house.
Ireland has a literacy rate of 99%, higher than superpowers like the United States, China, and India. Needless to say, in less than 100 years, literacy in Ireland has gone from a sign of genius to a bland given.
It’s easy to forget that standards have risen considerably, carrying along with them our expectations. It’s just as easy to forget that our idols were going into fields of experimentation and novelty, not yet bound by parent companies, public perception, or legalese.
In the 1920s, if you wanted to be published, you just wrote a book and sent it. Now a book could take years to get represented, submitted, considered, edited, revised, marketed, scheduled, promoted, and that’s just for a book that gets accepted.
To get a publisher, you need an agent. To get an agent, you need a track record. To get a track record, you need publication. It can feel like a vicious circle. The same can be said for other pursuits; music, art, TV, theatre, film, comedy. And don’t think sports are exempt; people forget even they have agents and managers they had to earn.
People want assurances. People want to know if they’re taking a risk at least it comes endorsed or highly praised (there’s an article in that for another time). Some kid called Georgey Lukes or something would never have been able to make his weird space opera, Star War or Stars War or something (especially when you consider the studio he made it for technically doesn’t exist anymore).
Competition.
There’s an interest paradox we’re living through. We are the most spoilt generation of humanity when it comes to our potential. Any skill you could imagine, any piece of wisdom and knowledge, every possible college course is not only free but at our very finger tips. What excuse do we have to not succeed?
We. Plural.
As I pointed out, my grandfather (bless him) got a job because he was literate. And while he worked hard and provided for his family with his wits and work ethic, even he has to see how being one of the few people in the country (3.2%) to be able to read and write gave him a near God-like power in terms of opportunities. Had he gotten into bank, academia, or politics with the advantage of literacy, who knows where we’d be now.
This time last year, I entered a screenplay competition. It was free to enter and open to the world. I had received an email weeks later saying I was within the top 1,000 (…impressive, I know). I had, however, failed to reach the top 300 for the next round of the competition. In total 13,000 people entered from around the world! I think about this anecdote sometimes, as I find it amusing at times and oddly illuminating.
- I was either better than (at least) 12,000 or (at most)12,699 people.
- There was either (at least) 300 or (at most) 999 people better than me.
- In the end, 5 finalists were better than 13,000 people.
- 5 people were better than the hundreds better than me, while I was better than thousands.
Another time I apply for a job for a games company. A mass email was sent to all applicants, with the mistake made of showing all our email addresses. There was 169 applicants for one job.
Even here online, it can feel like your screaming into a void of nonstop content you’re ironically contributing to. Can you imagine how quickly Joyce or Bukowski would be swept up and drown in a sea of pick me writers? They had the advantage of only having to compete with their own countrymen or contemporaries, not the entire world!
Concentration and Opportunity.
Once upon a time there were thousands of publishers you could send you your book to. Now there is 5; Penguin,Hachette, Harper Collins, Simon & Schuster, and Macmillan.
Once films could be made by any hot new studio. That became 6! That’s crazy enough until a few years ago when it then became 5! Disney, Sony, Warner, Viacom, Universal.
All processed food and drink in the western world is produced by 10 companies.
Underneath these companies are smaller subsidiaries, creating the illusion of diversity and range. On the surface, with all these companies it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking you have no excuse not to be a success, whether it be working through these channels or following in their footsteps and setting up your own company to rival them.
But the reality is that these companies are not only solely focused on making a profit but deal with competition in one of three ways; undercut, buyout, assimilate. Can a reincarnated Steve Jobs, obsessed with appearance, aesthetics, and customer experience, survive in a modern tech world that chases trends? Can a modern Thomas Edison somehow become the legendary inventor he was in a world of liberal patent claims, strict terms and condition agreements, and corporate lawyers that turn employee discoveries into IP (yes, that is ironic considering it’s exactly what Edison did to his employees)?
For many great names their opportunities came from not a lack of precedence, interest, and understanding from both bigger companies and from governments. Had people known what the media landscape looks today, would they not have insisted that Hollywood trust-busting go further than just buying up cinema theatres? Had people known the effects of the combustion engine on the environment, would Henry Ford have been allowed to reshape the world with his cars?
Now obviously red tape is there for a reason, but it’s naive to think it was always there, or that it doesn’t stand in your way of building a similar business today. Wrigley’s chewing gum, originally sold on the streets, would have had to deal with health and food safety inspections. If just selling gum faces oversight, imagine what other businesses are dealing with.
Mythology.
One of the big reasons you shouldn’t compare yourself to the dead (you know, besides the fact they’re dead) is it’s like running a race against someone who’s finished last year. Even worse; it’s like running against someone so famous, so intimidatingly idolised, that it’s foolish to even run a race they finished last year.
Mythologisation comes natural to the dead. They don’t have anything to lose and you look like the bad guy coming them a liar. While there’s been notable examples of the dead rightfully being called out; Mother Teresa is now know as a sadist, Nikola Tesla is now a genius who also had messed up ideas about race and fell in love with a pigeon, and the once treasured Jimmy Saville is thankfully seen as a horrid creature (long may he rot).
It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking these Great Men and Women of History were exactly that; effortlessly perfect and gifted by faith to lord over you. The truth is much more disappointingly comforting.
- Einstein spent 7 years at the parent office.
- Orson Welles peaked at 26.
- Steve Jobs died of an operable tumour he refused to have removed.
- Abraham Lincoln was a failure until he was in his 60s.
- At the height of her fame, Marilyn Monroe was typecasted.
We’re all fickle, stupid, irrational, emotional creatures. In life at least we can see that, both in ourselves and in others, especially those we admire. But through the sanctity of death, whether out of respect, hazy memories, or just hearsay, the dead, ironically, become more lively than ever before, except now it’s in our imaginations, where our mere human forms can’t compete.
I still have dead heroes; people I’ll always look up to and admire. I’d love to write a screenplay about Charlie Chaplin during the production of The Great Dictator. I think he was an extraordinary talent with a worldview years ahead of his time. It’s easy, looking at him, to feel like I’m messing up; vaudeville star by 12, Hollywood famous by 19, his own company in his 20s. But I must remind myself of the following;
- He was a child star in a time where labour laws didn’t exist. It was either sing for his literal supper or die.
- He entered Hollywood when there was no Hollywood. So long as he had the money for the reel, he had the only things he needed to be a star.
- He was a British immigrant who was invited to shoot a film and just kept going. Today, he’d be considered an illegal immigrant.
- He was part of film history, helping to invent the medium. Of course he’s going to be this larger than life character. In reality, for all his good traits, he was also prone to anger, a womaniser, and, while legal at the time, had a taste for girls.
It’s good to have heroes. And it’s good to aspire to follow in their footsteps. But you’re helping no one by holding them up. If you truly wish to respect and honour the dead, don’t make them haunt you with doubts and feelings of ineptitude.
