Comparison Isn't the Thief of Joy
Comparison Isn't the Thief of Joy
Theodore Roosevelt never said comparison is the thief of joy.
Quote Investigator went looking and couldn't find any real evidence he said it. Same for Mark Twain and C.S. Lewis, and people have put all three of their names on it. A close version turns up in a book in 2003. The exact wording shows up in 2004, credited to "somebody." Roosevelt's name gets attached to it online around 2012.
So the most famous line against comparison got famous by comparing itself to a president.
I find that very satisfying and I'm going to keep bringing it up.
I also think the line is wrong about where the bad feeling comes from.
Show-and-tell
Picture a kindergarten classroom, first week of school.
One kid gets up with a jar of sand from the best summer of his life. He tells the story badly, the way five-year-olds tell stories. There was a beach and a crab and his dad fell down, or maybe that was a different day. Doesn't matter. He's lit up.
The next kid brings a picture of a horse. Completely different summer. Also lit up.
And the rest of the room is sitting on the rug with their mouths open, and you can watch them doing it. Comparing. Every one of them is holding that jar of sand up against their own summer.
What comes back isn't misery. It's "I want to do that." Or some version of it. Maybe a bigger crab.
That's comparison with nothing attached. Just information about what's out there.
Somewhere between the rug and the car ride home
There's research on this, and it lines up with the rug. Diane Ruble and her colleagues found back in 1980 that five-year-olds are barely affected by how other kids perform. Somewhere around seven that changes, and kids start measuring themselves against each other in a way that sticks.
Some of that is just a brain growing up. And some of it is what gets said at home, in the car, in the checkout line. We can't afford that. People like us don't do that. You're not built for that.
Most of it isn't meant to hurt anybody. A lot of it's even true at the time it's said.
But the kid who sat on the rug and wanted the jar of sand goes home and learns what's allowed. And the next time he compares, something else answers before he does.
That second thing is the thief.
What the studies keep finding
Penelope Lockwood and Ziva Kunda published a study in 1997 called "Superstars and Me." They showed people someone successful in their own field and measured what happened.
Same comparison, two opposite results. When the success looked reachable, people came away inspired and felt better about themselves. When it didn't, they came away deflated.
What decided it was a belief. People got inspired when they thought they still had time, or that their abilities could get better. They got deflated when they thought the window had closed, or that they were stuck with what they had.
Then, in 2009 and 2011, a team in the Netherlands, Niels van de Ven, Marcel Zeelenberg and Rik Pieters, split envy into two kinds. One kind makes you want to pull the other person down. The other makes you want to climb up. In one of their studies, seeing someone do better only led to more motivation and better performance when people believed they could improve. When improving seemed hard, the same comparison produced admiration and nothing else.
Admiration's nice. It doesn't get you off the couch.
So comparison works like a mirror. First it shows you what you want. Then it shows you what you believe about whether you're allowed to have it. The second part is where it hurts.
The fact, and the word after it
Sometimes "we can't afford that" is just true. The bank account is the bank account. Pretending otherwise is how people get into trouble, and I'm not going to tell anybody their rent is a limiting belief.
But you're allowed to add a word to the end of that sentence.
We can't afford that yet.
That one word is the exact thing Lockwood and Kunda were measuring. The fact stays the same. What changes is whether you believe the fact is permanent. If there's a belief sitting behind the fact that keeps you in the fact, that belief is the thing to examine.
| The fact | The belief keeping you there | With yet |
|---|---|---|
| We can't afford that. | People like us don't get to do that. | We can't afford that yet. |
| I've never done it. | I'm not that kind of person. | I haven't done it yet. |
| They started younger than I did. | It's too late for me. | I haven't started yet. |
| I don't know how. | I'm not built for it. | I don't know how yet. |
And some facts won't take a yet. I'm not going to play in the NBA. Not now, not later, not in any timeline the NBA keeps on file. I've made my peace with it, and the NBA seems fine too.
That's where the kids on the rug had it right. They weren't planning the exact same summer. They were imagining a version of something like it. Maybe better. When the specific thing is off the table, the yet moves to the version.
Pain that fits
I worked with a man a while back who wanted something he'd wanted for a long time. I'm going to leave what it was out of this. He'd compare himself to the people who had it, they'd all started younger, and by his math the odds were astronomical. He was on the back side of the clock and he knew it.
The comparison wasn't what hurt him. Underneath it, he'd decided too late. The thing hadn't been a priority until the regret got heavier than the avoiding. By then the pain had been around so long it felt like home. It fit him. It was the most comfortable thing in the room.
I know that chair. In September 2015 I hit the biggest goal I'd ever set, and then I stopped setting them. For the next two years or so I missed my sales quota. It took my sales coach, Mike Smith, asking about my life goals for me to notice I didn't have any.
I wasn't losing a comparison to anybody. There wasn't anything held up to the mirror at all.
Which, if you want an argument for comparison, might be the best one I've got.
This is also why our Reflection Formula asks "What MIGHT I have done differently?" and never "should." Should turns regret into the chair. Might turns it into something you can use tomorrow.
When it stings
It's going to happen again this week, probably on your phone.
When it does, the sting has just answered a question for you. The first question in our Luck Activation Formula is "What do I want to experience?" and most people struggle with it. A good comparison answers it in half a second. You felt it because you want it, or some version of it.
Then ask the next one. How do I want to grow? That's where the yet lives.
The Living Lucky® Practice
Exercise: The next time a comparison stings, write three lines. What's the fact? What's the belief sitting behind it? Where does "yet" go?
Reflection question: What did I stop wanting because somebody told me it wasn't for people like me?
Journal prompt: If the exact thing is off the table, what's a version of it I could have?
Action: Pick one comparison you've been avoiding. Look at it tonight, then answer How Lucky Am I? right after.
The Comparison Mirror
What did it show you, and what's standing in front of it?
Frequently asked questions
Who actually said comparison is the thief of joy?
Nobody famous, as far as anyone can prove. Quote Investigator found no solid evidence for Theodore Roosevelt, Mark Twain or C.S. Lewis. A close version appears in print in 2003, the exact phrase in 2004 credited to "somebody," and the Roosevelt attribution spread online around 2012.
Is comparison always bad for you?
No. Penelope Lockwood and Ziva Kunda (1997) found the same comparison can inspire or deflate, depending on whether the other person's success seems attainable to you. The belief about attainability does the damage, more than the comparison itself.
What is benign envy?
Envy that makes you want to raise yourself up instead of pulling the other person down. Niels van de Ven and his colleagues found it increases motivation and performance, but only when people believe they can improve.
When do children start comparing themselves to others?
They notice early, but according to research by Diane Ruble and her colleagues, comparison starts shaping how they judge themselves around age seven. Before that, other kids' success barely registers in how they see themselves.
How do I stop comparing myself to others?
You probably don't need to. Notice what the comparison tells you that you want, then look for the belief telling you it isn't possible. Put "yet" on the end of that sentence and see if it holds.
What if the thing I want really is out of reach?
Then the specific thing may be off the table, but a version of it usually isn't. Most of what people want out of a comparison is the feeling behind it, and there's more than one way to get there.
Back on the rug
I keep thinking about the kid with the jar of sand. Nobody's told him anything yet. He gets up there, tells a story that doesn't quite hold together, sits back down happy, and spends the next ten minutes wanting a horse.
He'll probably get over the horse.
We Create Our Luck®.
