Why is extroversion better?
The answer is common sense for the extrovert. When we look at the world around us, extroverts are in demand, have higher status, are the life of the party, get what they want. In the competitive jungle of society the fittest survive. The extroverts who fight their way to the top are clearly the fittest, the introvert who can’t even find friends or make contacts with powerful people is a clear loser of the game. Extroverts understand ‘fitness’ as one football team eliminating another from the playoffs, one worker getting that promotion over another. Extrovert fitness is the concept that one achieves survival in direct competition by having greater prowess and determination than one’s rivals. “May the best man win.”
The truth, however, is that ‘fitness’ is a minimalist proposition. In nature, those creatures that reproduce the most for as little cost as possible win. This often doesn’t mean being competitive in any way that occurs to Loud people. After all, one can hardly imagine a stadium full of fans screaming fanatically for a team called the ‘dodos.’ Yet dodos were very much ‘fit’ until sudden change came along. Their lack of wing development and their inability to move quickly were desirable traits because it costs a lot of energy to grow strong wings or speedy legs. Many people who do well in social competition look down their noses at the welfare parents who are losing the game. These parents may be at the bottom of the social scale, but they are the most biologically fit in a post-industrial society. They produce the most offspring for as little effort as possible. They have a model of survival in which they don’t have to be smart, skilled, fast, or strong to reproduce. Thus, they are the truly efficient survivors who exemplify fitness. The mighty animals and competitive strength that extroverts love to idolize develop among the species always as a last resort when all the cheapskate strategies have failed.
I’ve just discussed the issue in terms of biological fitness when the extrovert is worried about social fitness, but the same principles apply. In human society, just as in nature, the more energy one invests, the higher the stakes and the higher the return one’s effort must yield just to break even. Fighting the way to the top of human society takes huge amounts of talent, energy, and risk. Just being a homeowner competing with the Joneses across the street can make for a nervewracking existence. Being a winner of human society is inherently difficult but what is the prize that makes all the strain and stress worthwhile? In industrialized society it isn’t about being able to produce more offspring than other people. On the contrary many great social winners have few if any children. Indeed some are so busy striving for social fitness that their biological fitness is compromised. If being the ‘fittest’ in the social sense isn’t about reproducing what then is the goal?
The end objectives obviously are recognition, adulation, power, wealth, desirable mates… But why have all of these? Any extrovert could consult their common sense and say that these are all very nice to have. They’re things that make us feel good. Not having all these things can make life horrible. It makes us feel bad.
So we could succinctly say that the goal is an enjoyable life or simply happiness. Yet being socially fit doesn’t even necessarily yield happiness. Lots of people at the top suffer under the pressure of the huge expectations that come with their station and can never easily trust anyone precisely because of the high rank they’ve worked so hard for.
Surely, if happiness is the basic end goal, there has to be a more efficient, more reliable way of getting there than going down the long, treacherous path towards social fitness. If we were to strip away the complex layers of this problem, we eventually reduce down to the self. Certainly by focusing on this much smaller, much more immediately controllable problem we can arrive at the goal both more reliably and more efficiently. Achieving the overall goal through these means could be considered more ‘fit’ than the whole notion of a competitive system of social fitness. It is no coincidence that self-cultivation is the domain of the introvert.
Competing socially in an attempt to squeeze some happiness out of existence is a rather illogical approach, but it’s what we’re taught and what we’re pressured into doing all through our lives. Only by stopping and thinking about our existence do we realize that complete devotion to the orthodoxy won’t necessarily fulfill any of our desires.
The Insanity of Defining the Self By Society
Very recently, I found myself on one of Southern California’s mega highways in the company of a highly extroverted friend of mine.
3 PM had just hit and we were desperately struggling to get free of the LA area before it was too late.
‘We’ll be fine once we get past the 605′ he said. On his cell phone roadmap, we could see red zones of congestion spreading by the minute.
Almost by the minute, traffic was moving slower and slower. Without a guardian spirit on our side, we would soon be gridlocked.
In these type of Calfornian conditions, one is looking down four enormous completely packed lanes. One can see thousands upon thousands of cars stretching into the distance. There’s plenty of time to look around and take stock of everyone else’s hummers, luxury SUVs, audis, and lexuses. All of these high end vehicles as far as the eye can see. Thousands upon thousands stretching into the distance. The remarkable and respectable becomes banal and vulgar. The bar of competition rises that much higher. Late on a cloudy afternoon, people’s headlights start to come on. Countless pairs of glowing insectoid eyes fill the view of every driver.
Suddenly the whole place and its sheer excess made sense to me. I turned to my friend and goaded him. “I think I get SoCal now.” I told him. “You all are in your little car among millions and have to tell yourselves, ‘I’m not just another drone like all those people I see around me.’ You have to be able to tell yourselves that you are better. It drives all of you to your famous levels of ambition.”
My friend has run for political office, has the social graces to charm an entire room full of people and become the life of the party. He is highly intelligent and can engage people at a cocktail party on nearly any subject. He can speak fluent Spanish and is as comfortable deer hunting in the mountains as he is sipping port and taking a fine cigar at his favorite watering hole. In short, he is a very electable person.
He had to concede that indeed he had to believe that he was not just another drone. That he was a unique SoCal overachiever, not just the regular kind. He chuckled at these existential dilemmas because it’s kind of a game between us. Yet he will continue his life’s task toward recognition regardless.
Earlier, that day in L.A., I had noticed the exact same phenomenon we experienced on that highway. It was just like Ancient Rome with its seven hills or even an ancient Mesopotomian city with ziggurats towering over the common hovels. In every day life, there was no escaping the life-defining fact of social competition. The richest and poorest of a nation are there in the same place at the same time. On the heights are the palaces of the winners. In the flatland gaps between hills are places where even the city’s 13,000 cops don’t dare to go. Never before had I seen such stark contrast.
I saw one winner’s balcony in particular jutting out over a crowded shambles below. “They must come out and give Benediction to the Masses,” I joked. My friend had cracked up as I raised my arms in imitation of the Pope. Surprise, surprise, more than one person has called me a cynic and condemned the dark nature of my humor.
The whole place was spectacular in its glorious decadence and inconceivable squalor. Each one was all the more striking for the other. I saw hordes of people without a penny within sight of the famous Hollywood sign.
L.A. is an excess even for my friend. He much prefers the more moderate and austere character of San Diego. Once we had gotten past the 605 we were free to zoom wherever we pleased through the Californian countryside.
It was dark outside and quiet as we drove along. “It’s completely insane.” I said, still stunned by the day’s experience.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Insane.”
It was more evident to me than ever that it is pure folly to allow society to define oneself. It is foolishness and futility to judge oneself by the masses. Without self-definition first one becomes lost in a cruel and elemental jungle of arbitrary social distinctions.
So long as I self-define, I could live in peace even sleeping on a bus bench at the foot of a hill slathered with the homes of famous actors. The famous actors on high are no doubt busily competing amongst one another. No matter their luxurious trappings, the character of their existence could not be said to be essentially different from that in the slums below. No matter who you are, there are always bigger fish, and if no bigger fish, life’s purpose has come to an end.