Hard Truths About Growth and The Fallacy of Modern Progress
Our Cultural Fallacy of Progress
We all have heard the term used possibly hundreds of times. "Progress often involves taking two steps forward and then one step back." I don't think that really paints the right picture...
In fact, adding a step to both directions feels almost revolutionary to me. Three steps forward and two steps back hits a lot different than the typical cliche. Those feelings or emotions we face, when two steps of progress were lost rather than just one, are heavier and harder. Even more painful is having the defeat of lost ground coincide with the momentum and energy that came from the three steps forward! It is both a jarring and defeating experience.
While we intellectually assent to the non-linear reality of growth, we typically don't accept it on a personal level. We may not even emotionally agree that this same maxim will hold true for us in our pursuit of whatever goal or version of "better" we are working towards (thank you, post-modern hyper-individualism). This denial can, and often does, begin to accumulate scar tissue, the type of tissue that grows more and more sensitive to repeated blows which can lead to resistance, avoidance, and full-blown abdication of any effort that could open up the possibility of feeling that pain again.
So what is this pain for us modern, westerners? What is this scar-tissue accumulation we so easily avoid? One of the most prevalent versions I've seen and experienced is the avoidance of emotional pain stemming from our own self-rejection when we have to face and live with repeated versions of our life (think: decisions and actions) not aligning with or living up to our hopes, expectations, dreams, or goals. In simple terms: we get beat down by our assumed expectation (of growth and progress) not living up to the reality we experience and face in daily life.
This cultural assumption of progress and achievement is baked into each aspect of our lives, and because we live embedded in this milieu, we can fail to recognize their impact in shaping the way we interpret how our lives are going. It causes us to build and reinforce how we think about growth, namely what it should look like and how it should feel. Isn't it Seneca who first said: "we suffer more in imagination than in reality"? How much suffering do we endure at the hands of these cultural assumptions we hold?
“Our dilemma is that we hate change and love it at the same time; what we really want is for things to remain the same but get better.” — Sydney J. Harris
If we want to develop a healthier relationship with growth, we need to see as clearly as possible what growth is and what it isn't. We need our instinctive assumptions to shift, and we need some illustrations to help us understand why in a more relatable way.
To do so, I want to highlight some ideas from the worlds of science, religion, and golf.
A View From The Lens of Science
In his book "The Structure of Scientific Revolutions," Thomas S. Kuhn examines and analyzes the scientific process. In his historical analysis of the theory and practice of science, he highlights the components that are often present in scientific revolutions, which he calls "the tradition-shattering complements to the tradition-bound activity of normal science." Kuhn goes on to say, scientific revolutions are "those non-cumulative developmental episodes in which an older paradigm is replaced in whole or in part by an incompatible new one." In simple terms, revolutions in science happen when a certain theory (i.e. paradigm) comes up against an insolvable challenge and is ultimately proven to be false, insufficient, or lacking compared to another theory that arises and ends up taking the old paradigms place.
What's interesting about this process is: the textbooks never clearly portray this reality. When we take various science classes, or even history classes throughout our schooling years, the impression that is made on us is that progress has been made in a very linear, rational way, often referred to as building blocks. By continuing to stack these blocks on each other, we end up building this massive house of knowledge and progress we currently experience and enjoy! But what happens when one of those building blocks is actually more reminiscence of Jenga and the whole tower ends up crumbling to the ground? How do we come to terms with being forced to begin again and start over on a new foundation that was just discovered?
It's repulsive to us. Instinctively we hate it. This is shown to be true in many of the examples Kuhn highlights, including the revolutions of Einstein, Newton, and Galileo. The initial response is and always will be resistance, and the strength of that resistance tests the belief and convictions of those who are proposing the new paradigm. Yet there is also a weight of responsibility placed upon those who are confronting this challenge, and our confirmation bias often comes out in full force, rejecting any evidence saying we could be wrong, or that we need to take a few steps back, or that we may need to rebuild on a new foundation. Even more fundamentally, this pattern helps us realize we have been told the wrong story. Growth isn't some endless staircase of steps going up and to the right. Growth often involves a death, an implosion or explosion of what was in order to bring to life the better and more true version of what is, or even what could be.
Summary: Growth is painful and it doesn't happen in a neat line.
“If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” — Frederick Douglass
A View From The Lens of Religion
In every religion, there is a spectrum of views and beliefs. These are often called sects or denominations, as is the case in Christianity. Growing up, I was shaped and formed in the fundamental sect of Christianity, a view that emphasizes the rationality of scripture and a linear-like path of growth in sanctification. The opposite end of the spectrum is often seen in the mystics, the desert fathers, and other recognized saints. These are the people who tend towards an embrace of the mystery of faith and of God, above and beyond the aspects that can be rationalized and known.
One modern-day equivalent on the mystical side of Christianity is a Franciscan priest named Richard Rohr. In a meditation of his, he writes about the history of labyrinths in the historical church. In the Middle Ages, churches used labyrinths as a way to enter into prayer meditation, contemplate spiritual concerns, and grow closer to God. As Rohr puts it, "the rational mind prefers to see life as a straight, ever-ascending line; in reality, it's far more like a spiral or labyrinth. Christianity once understood this; for centuries, believers would come early to Mass to walk a labyrinth before they dared to celebrate the holy mysteries."
If we put aside any existing convictions or beliefs for a second and simply examine our human impulse, there's something so attractive about a religion that has all the answers, isn't there? To have certainty that what we believe is capital-t true, and that what we are committing to will fully pay off. We long to know there is meaning in life, and the places that can give us the fullest answer and the most defined lines of black and white are where we naturally look. Yet is that how life works? Is that in line with what we honestly experience? Is it as clear and understood as we would like to believe? Is our path of spiritual progress really as neat and clean as advertised or projected?
We know we have flaws, weaknesses, propensities to do things we aren't proud of. We're human. And yet, why would we think the point is to become more like a robot? Why would we try to eliminate our humanity in favor of some perceived assumption that the point of life is to live out the trajectory of "up and to the right" on the ever-ascending line of growth? It seems that we outgrow the lessons of our youth, when we learned again and again that taking shortcuts wouldn't help us in the long-run, and that certainty is more a fool's errand than some image-bearer of wisdom.
Summary: Growth is a meandering journey that is not efficient and doesn't include shortcuts.
“If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it’s not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take. That’s why it’s your path.” — Joseph Campbell
A View From The Lens of Sport
Golf is a game of inches, literally. Like those times when you hit a putt that, if it was a fraction of an inch further to the left, it would have fallen into the hole instead of catching the lip and careening several feet away. Within the game, there are endless shots, countless skills, and an infinite number of scenarios you can practice and prepare for. Over time, your competencies grow and grow until you begin to feel capable of hitting virtually any shot. Now, just because you can hit any shot, doesn't mean you will when the scenario calls for it. In golf, the rubber meets the road when the shot you are trying to pull off carries the weight of a career-best round in the making, or a possible tournament-winning performance, or a desperate push to get inside of the cut-line.
This is why practice is such an essential part of any golfer's success. The body has to have an awareness of what is needed for a specific shot to be executed so it can recall that feel when it is needed during the round. Yet, there comes a point in time when the feeling of progress begins to fade into the background and all that's left is the drudgery and slow slog of effort expended without much payoff. Once your skill gets to a certain threshold, the visible signs of progress are much harder to see on a scorecard, let alone experience on the golf course.
This is another important aspect of growth that needs to be highlighted and one that runs counter to all that we love and enjoy about the concept itself. The best thing about growth is arguably the results of it. We love seeing the fruit of our efforts and the clear cause and effect of effort put in and desired results coming out. Clear, tangible, and reliable inputs to outputs. This produces joy and satisfaction like none other! Yet there is a time when that process becomes far less clear, when those inputs fail to produce the outputs we think they should. This failure begins to jeopardize our romanticized view of growth and how we improve, and it can ultimately lead to burnout and giving up entirely.
Summary: Growth can be invisible, and it doesn't always feel like growth.
“I always thought burnout happened when you work too much. Now I get it. It’s investing emotionally and then not getting a return on that investment.” — Clint Byrum
Putting A Bow On It
The thing that trips us all up with progress and growth is our mismatched expectations with the reality we face on a daily level. With better expectations, we can set ourselves up for a better journey. We can also be more aware of how we are experiencing each step and our reactions to both the good and the bad consequences that come from each action we take. Ultimately, we can begin to have more grace and acceptance towards ourself, while still holding onto the hope of what we aim to accomplish and who we strive to be. If we understand the likelihood of having three steps forward be followed by two steps back, then maybe it won't derail us as often. And maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to enjoy the ride.
Growth is painful and it doesn't happen in a neat line.
Growth is a meandering journey that is not efficient and doesn't include shortcuts.
Growth can be invisible, it doesn't always look or feel like growth.
"Spiritual progress is typically three steps forward and then perhaps two steps back. This challenges a man to keep his eye on the spiritual path and to learn from the path itself. He might find that the steps backward have as much to teach him as the steps forward — maybe even more." - Richard Rohr
