Why do anything, when it’s easier to just complain?
I complain a lot. Mostly inside my own head. Complaining is another one of those things that’s analogous to eating junk food. In the moment, it feels effective, but the feeling is wrong. Junk food is most harmful, and not very nutritious. Complaining has very little chance of making things better, and risks antagonizing the people you are complaining about.
We mostly complain about other people. We might also complain about the weather, or other natural phenomena. But most people are not farmers (anymore). Most people don’t work outside (anymore). We live and work in artificial environments, built by people, and populated by people. We work for people—bosses and customers. We work and live with people—our colleagues, family, neighbours. When we complain, it is usually rooted in what other people do.
Few people are satisfied with the other people in their lives. Is it just me, or is satisfaction decreasing? In other words, is dissatisfaction increasing? And thus leading to more complaining?
We complain because complaining is always achievable. No one can really stop you from complaining, or ruminating on the disappointing flaws of others. While you can try to find compromise, or persuade people to change, you are still unlikely to get what you want. You might end up disappointed and complaining anyway. So why not just skip right to the complaining?
Of course, you can always break off contact with people who frustrate you. You can cancel contracts, fire employees or customers, quit your job, move away, block their phone numbers. But are you going to become a hermit, and renounce all human relationships? If you did, there would still be one person to disappoint you: you.
Why are our expectations so high? There are many reasons. But maybe the biggest one is media. Before media, we were rarely reminded of the rare achievements of the exceptionally talented and gifted. Well, maybe in places of worship, or civic buildings. But these were special, and you wouldn’t expect your kids or your neighbour or your boss to live up to those standards. But popular media brought glamour and perfection into our living rooms. Magazines, television, movies, and social media made what was previously rare and mostly invisible suddenly omnipresent and highly visible. And our everyday lives can’t live up to it.
It goes much further than glamour, however. We are not only dissatisfied by our collective mediocrity, but also by our mutual disagreement.
We live in a world that is consumed by collective dissatisfaction with our disagreements. No one wants to compromise. We can’t get on with things. But then, there is nothing to get on with. Our purpose in life is to get exactly what we want. And what we want includes everyone else agreeing with our point of view. Which is impossible. We all want the impossible, and we will never get it. So we complain. And we complain about (others’) complaints, with which we don’t agree—especially when they complain about us, or those we identify with.
Neverending mutual dissatisfaction, frustration, unhappiness, blame, and antagonism.
The outcome seems inevitable: the intensity of disagreement continues to rise, until it turns into violence. In fact, the violence started a long time ago. Most of it is institutional, or peripheral (like mass shootings or other outbursts).
We need some serious conflict resolution efforts. Or we need to get ready for even more violence, misery, and death. To me, that seems irrational. But people are almost never rational. Or reasonable. And what can I do about that?