Is life a story or a game? Answers may vary from one to another. Over the course of life, we find things to love and commit to —a job, a partner or a community. At times, we struggle to learn from our misfortunes to grow in wisdom, kindness and grace.
Will Storr, a writer whose work I admire, says this story version of life is a misunderstanding. In his book The Status Game, he argues that human beings are deeply driven by status. Rather than about being liked or accepted, he writes, it's about being better than others. "When people are obedient to us, offer respect, admiration or praise, that's status. It feels good."
Life is a series of games, he adds. There's the high school game of competing to be the popular kid. The lawyer game to make partner. The finance game to make the most money. The academic game for fame. The sports game to show that our team is the best. Even when we are trying to do good, Storr claims, we're playing the "virtue game" to show we are morally superior to others.
I think Storr is in danger of becoming one of those guys who ignore the noble desires of the human heart and the caring element in every friendship and family. The status-mad world that Storr describes is so loveless. In fact, gaming as a way of life is immature. Maturity means rising above the shallow desire —for status —that doesn't really nourish us. It's about cultivating the higher desires: the love of truth and learning; the inner pleasure the craftsman gets in his work, which is not about popularity, and the desire for a good and meaningful life that inspires people to practise daily acts of generosity.
How do people gradually learn to cultivate these higher motivations? To answer that, I'd have to tell you a story.