Raising The Bar

hat does one do when stuck indoors on a rainy day? Channel surf, of course. First stop is Dr. Phil, where he promises to spend the rest of his life helping a young woman with her self esteem issues. Then it's off to Dr. Oz*, who tells me about the latest medical/lifestyle 'miracle'. OK, one more try, a cooking show, where I'm shown intimate close-ups of someone stirring something in a bowl ... yum, I guess.

Then there’s the drum video touting a “revolutionary” technique that would totally change my playing -- and my life, apparently. It turned out to be a lick that I’ve been using for years. Useful, but hardly life changing ...  and after such a great build-up.

It's a peculiar habit we humans have. We enjoy hyperbole: best ever, mind blowing, LMAO, and so on. At one level, it's simple enthusiasm. When we really, really like something, we wax poetic and throw in overly-flattering words, words that may not really apply.

Another possibility is what psychologists call significance hunger: I want to be part of something significant, impressive, important ... and potentially reap rewards on top of bragging right.

Today, being good at something is no longer good enough. Even great is sometimes considered a bit lame. The new norm is that you have to be over-the-top just to show up on the internet radar.

Comedian Louie C. K. has a poignant take on superlatives. He points out that if, for example, you describe the french fries you’re eating as “amazing”, how will you then describe something that truly is remarkable? There really is nowhere to go from the awe-inspiring. And so we’ve fallen into a trap where everything is being presented as "great, tremendous, unbelievable”, something that is guaranteed to blow your mind.

It's fine to be enthusiastic and to want to communicate that enthusiasm, and to hang out with the cool people. But this seemingly innocuous escalation affects our outlook significantly. If nothing else, it raises expectations, and that raises the stakes. In order to stand out, everyone has to get with the program in order to not disappoint an audience that no longer appreciates nuance. It also markets an unhealthy concept of excess. Enough is no longer enough. Too much may even fall short. And so we search for, and expect, amazing. In the end, we miss out on a lot of quality stuff if we choose to only listen to the loudest voice.

* I wrote this article a few years ago.

Image Credit: © State Library Queensland