What is failure?
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming.
What is failure?
- Shakespeare wrote 37 plays. Why didn't he write 40?
- Serena Williams has won 23 Grand Slam titles. But what about the times she lost? Were they failures? Or were they lessons? What if she tried harder or played better during some of those defeats than in her victories: should that not merit applause?
- Penny Lane, Last Christmas, Wonderwall and Fairytale of New York are well-known songs. But they each failed to reach Number 1. What standard should we measure failure or success by?
Commit! Live your best life! All this motivational stuff is easier said than done, of course. It is undoubtedly hard to do. But it is made worse by the looming shame of failure that our society has hoisted overhead. This blocks out half the sun and scares us like rabbits in the headlights. The shame often has more significant aftershocks than the failed venture itself. What the hell is failure anyway?
Failure is a powerful beast standing in the way of living more adventurously. I prefer to believe that merely by beginning, by having a go and trying our best, we have succeeded in something meaningful. The only thing that truly counts as failure is not daring to try.
Imagine if society applauded endeavour. Consider if we saved the mocking for those who never began, rather than those stout souls who stand out from the crowd, roll up their sleeves and say, 'I'll give it a shot.'
Regardless of what happens after that, we have attempted something to be proud of. Living adventurously dares us to lean into the prospect of failure. There is little excitement or challenge in sticking with things we are good at or doing only stuff we know we can accomplish. Excitement, learning and a sense of satisfaction are earned by overcoming the prospect of failure. You have to dare yourself to roll the dice.
Every person who reads this is – on a global scale – moderately well-educated and affluent. I hesitate to speak for you, so I'll use myself as an example. If I gambled on an idea that failed and all my work and vanished right this moment, I would still be OK. I could find a job, earn money, buy food and stay alive. I would not die. If I fail, I will not die.
What then do I fear about committing to a new project? Losing money? Losing self-respect? The sneers of peers?
Money I can get more of.
My self-respect should remain intact if I tried my best.
Therefore it must be the thought of 'told you so' that scares me the most.
In which case, I need to re-read Roosevelt's 'Man in the Arena' speech, stick two fingers up at the doubters and then just crack on with what I am doing.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
OVER TO YOU:
How do you define 'failure'?
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