Many people are apt to look at powerful, capable and charismatic public figures and attribute their success to “pulling themselves up by their bootstraps” - as if, in addition to their quantifiable gifts, they had some uncanny moral superiority to the rest of humanity which made their success inevitable. They want to establish some kind of causal relationship between the character of Oprah Winfrey, Andrew Carnegie, or Sam Walton and the success that they achieved - and, often, their own success.
I am hestitant to ascribe any such relationship between my character and my current state. After all, a great many of the things in my life are the result of chaotic systems. I’m hesitant to call them luck, because there were no dice involved per se, but my ending up in a certain place and doing certain things is the result of a multitude of narrow and sometimes arbitrary decisions.
For example, I only know my current set of friends because I 1) decided to enter Berkeley on deferred enrollment rather than attend Davis, 2) didn’t get into the College of Engineering, 3) decided to become an English Major, 4) happened to attend my orientation on a particular day, 5) started making wise cracks in tandem with another person, whom I befriended, 6) maintained my friendship with her over the course of several years despite divisions with her friends and varying personal circumstances, and 7) started going to weekly game nights with her despite some level of social anxiety and apprehension. And who knows what other myriad variables were involved in getting me to that particular place and getting the rest of them into that particular place to become my friends.
Or, for another, possibly more extreme example, I can reflect that I am only about to be married to my lovely wife because 1) I decided, more or less on a whim, to become involved with a high school musical, 2) I subsequently made a few close friends in the drama clique, who encouraged me to try out again the following year, 3) the director’s toddler was enchanted by my audition in a pantomime role and broke into paroxysms of laughter, 4) I subsequently attended Foothill College for the drama program and for a girl I was having a fling with, 5) I barely didn’t make the cut to get into the acting program there, 6) another person dropped out of the program, a slot was offered to me, and I decided against attending and redoubled my efforts to get into Berkeley, 7) I took English 117T, the performance-study Shakespeare class offered once every two years at Berkeley, and 8) the directors thought I would have chemistry with Isolde, and had us audition as Beatrice and Benedick (which went to taller - but no less deserving - actors).
I can recite a similarly long-winded tale of how I ended up in my career. If, for me, things like my wife, my friends, and my career were determined by a totally chaotic set of circumstances, it should be easy to see that the difference between triumphant success and obliterating mediocrity could be determined by chaotic circumstances. If not for all of those things, who might my friends be? Would I be single, or involved with another? Would I be a lawyer, an engineer, an actor, or a menial worker hoping to make it some day? It would seem, then, that there is a weak correlation between my capabilities and any particular outcome - in fact, had some important things in my life been slightly different, I would no doubt be a very different person.
And with regard to others, I’ve known plenty of people who were very intelligent but worked in rather mundane, low-paying jobs, and, conversely, rather unremarkable people who were absurdly successful. So, it would seem that strong capability is neither necessary for success (as there are low-capability rich people) nor is it sufficient (as there are highly capable poor people). Then again, my effort may have been necessary, as I could’ve just decided to stay in my room and play Diablo II and, later, World of Warcraft while the world passed me by. And I would say that there are a lot of unsuccessful people out there who seem slaves to their own ignorance, pettiness, vice and self-sabotage, just as there are successful people who are beacons of intellect, learning, gumption and determination.
So, while I am, again, hesitant to call any of this luck, it would seem that many of the things in my life are the result of staggering coincidences, decisions made on a whim, the interference of factors outside my control, and emotional sentiment. That’s pretty damn chaotic if you ask me.
Still, I can see why people would want to believe they are the captains of their own souls, so to speak. I certainly try to convince myself of it as I slog through my daily life. It rings hollow to say, “Look at everything I’ve accomplished. Thank God that an infinity of chaotic circumstances beyond my control conspired with my meager individual effort to create this outcome.” And, after all, winners tend to take credit for their successes, as losers tend to blame the stars for their failures. So, I generally tend to take credit for my successes, and I think it is a great psychological device.
However, convincing yourself that you are the sole arbiter of your destiny is foolish and myopic. I realize this is a dangerous and problematic statement, but I think that the rich man who believes he is rich because he is lucky is inclined to be the steward of his less fortunate brethren, as the nobility of old aspired to be. After all, the rich stayed rich and the poor stayed poor, so rich or poor was determined by accident of birth. But I think that the rich man who believes he is rich because he is morally superior to the poor is inclined to have disdain for them - to deny them dignity and security, to degrade and humiliate them, to drive them to steal and kill to survive.