Ditching meritocracy
Have you ever heard the voice of the Not-Good-Enough whispering to your ear about all the things you haven’t achieved, the talent you lack, the things you don’t have, the things you haven’t done or how much you suck at something?
I wonder when we start hearing that voice and why we feel like we must achieve this and that to prove ourselves. It’s exhausting.
I have been reflecting on this and I think that the problem is in that word: achievement. That’s what a meritocratic society makes us believe, that achievements are the ultimate measure of success in life. But that doesn’t sit well with me.
The Illusion of Meritocracy
Meritocracy. It sounds fair, doesn’t it? A system where people succeed based purely on talent and hard work. The dictionary defines meritocracy as a political, social, or economic system where power, influence, and rewards are assigned solely on the basis of ability and achievement—not on background, privilege, or irrelevant personal traits.
At first glance, that might seem reasonable. Work hard, grow your talents, and you’ll be rewarded. But here’s the problem: in this system, human worth is conditional. In a meritocratic society your worth is demonstrated by your accomplishments. But in our modern societies not everybody has equal opportunities to develop their talents and not all talents are valued equally. Therefore, our achievement capacity might not be the same or our “achievements” might not be acknowledged or valued by the gatekeepers, authorities or institutions in power. Our sense of self-worth suffers in the process and the very thing that a meritocracy was not suppose to reward ends up being rewarded: privilege.
Why I Reject the Achievement Treadmill
Once you internalise this mindset, you step onto a hamster wheel that never stops spinning. If our worth is dependant on our accomplishments we must keep working hard to maintain a good sense of worth. No matter how much you achieve, it’s never enough. There’s always another milestone, another accolade, another way to prove yourself. The race is exhausting. It drains us, leaving no time to rest, reflect, or simply enjoy life.
Must we perceive ourselves as worthless because we have not achieved success as defined by an external entity? And who or what is this external entity with the power to decide what success is or whether your talents and accomplishments are or are not valuable and deserving of reward and acknowledgement?
No wonder people are burning out. No wonder anxiety and depression are rampant. Who can truly thrive in a system that ties self-worth to a never-ending cycle of competition? We don’t have to run that race. We don’t have to prove ourselves to anyone.
A Different Way to Live
I didn’t always feel this way. I have wanted success just as badly as anyone else. I have felt the need to prove my worth and to be acknowledged. That’s the narrative I learnt from the world around me.
At some point, I took a step back and saw the absurdity of it all. Yanis Varoufakis said it best:
“All systems of domination work by enveloping us in their narrative and superstitions in such a way that we cannot see beyond them. Taking a step or two back, finding a way to inspect them from the outside, allows us a glimpse of how imperfect, how ludicrous, they are. Securing this glimpse keeps you in touch with reality.”
That glimpse changed everything for me. I realised I could opt out.
The Freedom of Simple Living
In my personal vision of Simple Living, worth isn’t something I earn—it’s something I already have. I don’t need to prove myself. I don’t need titles, awards or fancy jobs to be a valuable member of my community. I believe we all have something to give to the world, and our gifts and talents, whatever they might be, are enough. So, I am enough.
In this vision of Simple Living I learn the things I learn and work on the things I work because I’m curious, I’m interested and I care, not because I’m after recognition. I rest because I respect my body and mind, not because I’ve “earned” a break. I fail, I make mistakes, and I try again—not because failure is a lesson in resilience, but because it’s simply part of life. And when I spend time with people, I’m present. I feel joy, not the anxiety of being measured and judged.
Can you feel how much lighter it is here?