For all our striving as a species to find clear and absolute answers to everything, from what is “right” to the deepest mysteries of the universe, at heart, human beings remain a highly comparative species. In its best form, this compulsive comparativeness can fuel high achievement in science and technology. Whether we like it or not, competitive comparativeness fueled the space program that landed men on the moon, the early development of the airplane, even the development of commercial and residential electrification, not to mention untold advancements in many fields.
The worst aspects of comparativeness remind me, however, of the old saying that all comparisons are odious.
In personal affairs, comparisons tend to be subjective and unfair, particularly in politics and business. The late Richard Nixon was pilloried for taping conversations in the White House, yet White House taping had gone on in several previous administrations. He resigned under threat of impeachment for covering up the Watergate burglaries, yet cover-ups have occurred in government for generations. The full extent of the naval oil reserve scandals in the Harding administration didn’t come out for decades, nor did the extent of Jack Kennedy’s extensive philandering in the White House. While both Kennedy and Nixon had grave faults, in point of fact, Nixon actually had many accomplishments as president, while Kennedy’s sole measurable achievement was averting nuclear war in the Cuban Missile crisis, yet in popular opinion, there’s essentially no comparison. The ballyhooed Presidential debate between Kennedy and Nixon was another example of the fickleness of comparativeness. Among those who heard the debate on radio, a significant majority felt Nixon had “won.” Among those who watched it on television, a majority opted for Kennedy. Same debate, same words – but physical appearance carried the day.
Likewise, study after study has shown that men who are taller, regardless of other qualifications, receive more pay and more respect than shorter men, even those more able in terms of ability and achievement, and interestingly enough, in almost all U.S. presidential elections, the taller candidate has been the winner.
Another example surfaced with the recent deaths of Steve Jobs and Dennis Ritchie. While the entire world seemed to know about Jobs, and mourn his early and untimely death, only a comparative handful of people seemed to know about Dennis Ritchie, who was the pioneer who developed the first widespread and fundamental computer languages [the C programming language and the UNIX system] which made possible the later success of both Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. Yet Jobs’ death appeared everywhere, and Ritchie rated a small paragraph buried somewhere in newspapers, if that. Although Ritchie’s death was widely mentioned in technical and professional journals, it went almost unnoticed in the popular media.
In the end, the question may be: Is it that comparisons are so odious, or that the grounds on which we make those comparisons are so odious?