Elbow culture

I have decided not to compete. I’m tired of this elbow culture we have going on. I thought it just occurred in the workplace, and that it would get better once I went freelance – but no. It’s this culture that forces the idea: if you want to get ahead, you have to be better. Not better than you were yesterday (which would be Zen), but better than your competition. Push all others aside to get to the top.
Now, some of you might be muttering “Well… duh!” to yourself. (That is, if you still actively use the word “Duh”. I know I do!) Of course anything and everything that has to do with an economic system automatically has to do with being chosen over others. Either you present yourself better than your competition, or you work faster, or your rate is lower, or your eyes sparkle more – whatever it may be, it sets you that tiny bit apart from your competition and gets you the job.
Be that as it may, I always thought this competitive atmosphere was inherent in certain fields of work more than others. In an office, for example, more so than if you’re working from home. (No competition there, unless of course you count your cat.) There’s more competition, say, in a consulting firm than in a publishing house. Or so I thought. I’m coming to realize that may not be true.

Dying business

For over 20 years I’ve been hearing that “publishing is a dying business” and “nobody really cares about art and literature”. For the past ten years, I’ve proven these people wrong – in my mind at least – by successfully working in these dying fields. Now, as a freelancer, it’s becoming clear that these “dying fields” that I chose because they “don’t play the money game” are doing just that: they’re playing the money game – only they’re playing it without money. Which makes working in these fields even more competitive than, say, in an economic job. It ultimately results in a heap of bad-quality products that get produced because someone with money wanted them produced; concepts that are recycled endlessly because they worked the first time; and overall pretty uninspiring topics to work on. Now, it may be naïve of me, but I’d prefer a small literary scene with important books and ideas over a big one with countless books and ideas that are constantly milked for profit.

Theory

I believe when your personality begins to really form, as an adolescent, you slowly decide where (or what) you might want to be “when you grow up”. Certain things during this time impress you more than others. (Let’s leave aside for a moment that this point in time – adolescence – is not fixed, as our grandparents were already grown up before we even began thinking about further education, and today’s “youth” often seemingly doesn’t know what they want to be until they’re well in their forties.)
In my adolescence, my grandfather and other liberal influences in my life taught me things that echoed in my soul, making me realize I’d always be on the little guy’s side. I’d always root for the underdogs, and always want the world to be a more beautiful place than it is. Money, as the root of all evil, became something I decidedly (or undecidedly, maybe even unconsciously) wanted to avoid. To this day, money is something I don’t like talking or thinking about.

Questions, questions

These influences caused me to choose two studies in the humanities – the English language and Comparative Literature.
Studying a language, among other things, means asking questions on how meaning is conveyed, who has the power to decide what is written and recorded in a culture’s history, and when a speech act becomes an act that changes the world. Similarly, Comparative Literature asks questions as to how the world works and how people talk about it in the form of art. Does it affect people differently if they read a book or watch a movie? Is anything even real, or is everything just a simulation and presentation of something else?

Positioning yourself in the system

So, consciously or unconsciously, I find myself constantly wanting to answer questions. Questions that I ask myself. (It can be pretty exhausting, believe you me.) Until I went freelance, I never fully realized what that exactly means for my life. I just “believed” in certain things and never had to really deal with those I don’t believe in, because I didn’t come in contact with them. For example, I lived my life knowing people exist whose only interest is making money, but I never had to work with those people. Or that there are people who, in a whole month, live off of what I make in a day – right next door, in the same city I live in. But these people weren’t part of my reality. Now, however, I am “part of a system”: I’m no longer hidden in the workings of a company that makes decisions for me. I’m out there, with my name and my beliefs.

Manifesto

So, how to position myself in the system? I am well aware that I need money to survive; after all, I have to buy coffee – and cat food. So I have to put myself out there and participate. But I have decided not to play their game.

I will not compete for a job.
I will not work on manuscripts, books, or designs for companies I cannot support or do not believe in, simply to make rent.
I do not want to recycle content that has already been produced.
I want to work with language, in the fields of art, literature, and all that stuff that’s apparently been dying out since I was five.
In all my endeavors and in all my work, I aim to produce only things that will enrich the world, make it more beautiful, or help people.
I’d like to believe if I live and work this way, it might influence others to do the same.

That may be an ambitious goal, but I’d really rather compete with myself than play a game I don’t want to play.