In archery it is not going through the leather which is the principal thing;
because people’s strength is not equal. This was the old way.

– The Analects, 3:16

In training, the archery instructor never says, ‘You missed 50 percent of your targets. Why are you not hitting better today?’ They don’t even look.
– Jerome Chouchan

Z joined our track team when he was already in Secondary 4. After maybe a couple of months of training, he remarked he was faster than X, the fastest sprinter we had at the time and that he could outrun Y, who had been the best long-distance runner before his arrival. He sounded smug. He was a strong runner and even so, his remark was slightly affronting. Not willing to risk confronting him openly, we loudly and bravely, mocked him behind his back.

Z won gold at the national schools track and field championships that year and every subsequent year thereafter till we parted ways for National Service. He often told me not to doubt myself. Contrary to our initial assessment of him, he was grounded, humble and helpful. He was a role model and rightfully became captain of the team.

Once, when Z, others and I were training together, I brazenly pushed the pace, in a very competitive way. I wanted to finish first. This was at a time when I was peaking and just before, I too went on to win something at the national level. At the last stretch, I started sprinting. I gave it everything I had. Z played along, took training seriously and gracefully glided (it really looked like he was gliding) past me. He came in first.

My best was not enough to outrun Z. Even so, it was a very enjoyable duel. I always have more fun when I lose by a hair’s breadth to a strong opponent than when I beat many weaker opponents. Every day, I just try to close the gap and if I have closed it a little more today than I did yesterday, I can live with myself. It is important to me that I can live with myself.

Researchers used to believe that people who compared their performance against that of others were not as likely to remain motivated because, if they kept losing, they would stop trying. If beating someone else mattered enough, underhand tactics might look very tempting against a stronger opponent. It was recommended that instead, we should measure our performance today against our performance yesterday, without thinking about how someone else did.

Intuitively, this does not seem to be the whole story. I cannot draw. If I joined an art class, I would be the worst student every single session, even if I made improvement from day to day. My best drawing of a tiger might look like a balloon with 4 sticks attached at the bottom. Time is finite. Would I spend enormous amounts of time improving something I know I will never be good enough in, or would I rather spend it on something I have a decent chance of mastering? How do I know that I cannot draw? I look at others. With lesser effort, their drawings look much better.

Recent research confirms earlier research that we should primarily focus on our own performance today compared to yesterday. In addition, it was also found that when we reach a level of performance which is good enough for competition, comparing ourselves with others will spur us to greater heights. In the beginning, look at yourself. As you become very much better, look at others. If you look at others in the beginning, you might give up. When you get better and compare yourself to others but find yourself coming up short, go back to improving your performance tomorrow compared to today. Despite my best effort, I may never be better than Z in one field. Despite his best effort, Z may never be better than me in some other field, though I really cannot think of anything Z wouldn’t be good in, given how much zeal and will he brings to bear in every endeavour. The goal is to become the best I can be in what I am suited for.

This idea of comparing one’s performance of today to yesterday versus comparing against someone else, has been explored in literature.

In The Fountainhead, Peter Keating spent his whole life comparing himself to Howard Roark and in the process lost irretrievable time he could have spent developing his own areas of talent and wound up defeated. Roark ignored him and everyone else and cared only about improving himself. After continuing to lose to his peers by outward indications for a long time, Roark winds up a grand winner, winning what truly mattered to him.

Musashi too, was doggedly hunted by an arch rival in the form of Sasaki Kojiro Ganryu. Kojiro was the best opponent Musashi had ever faced. Kojiro was very focused on achieving pre-eminence and Musashi was focused on attaining self-mastery. In the final duel, Kojiro lies mortally wounded and Musashi hopes against hope that his best rival does not die.

While it might look like Roark and Musashi were superior human beings who would not deign to compare themselves against others, this conclusion falls away upon closer examination. Roark was obsessed with originality which by definition necessitates comparison. Musashi duelled incessantly to measure his performance. Comparison with others then was an important means of estimating self-ability and achieving self-mastery for both of them.

In ancient oriental cultures, archery was a means to attain self-mastery. Archery became part of even non-military education. In archery, emphasis was not on hitting the target but on developing valuable qualities in oneself such as a quiet mind and correct form. It was taken for granted that if physical and mental forms were in order, it was but of course that the target would be hit.

I shot an arrow from a bow, only once in my life. It was at some carnival. Someone was with me. It was risky to try because I might have looked somehow incompetent before this person. It was risky not to try because I might have looked somehow incompetent before this person. I retreated into myself, took a deep breath, stretched the bowstring and released the arrow. Thankfully, the arrow did not fall limply on the floor or hit someone else.

Archery lends itself to self-mastery because you face a target board and not an opponent. However, it requires equipment and a dedicated area. In the absence of such elaborate affordances, there are always other ways to achieve the same goal, such as running or debating.

We just have to remember the opponent is not the target.

The Brain Dojo