On Humility and Success

Our education system in the modern world (and when I say our I do not necessarily mean the Czech system alone, other systems are guilty of this as well) are built around achievements, prestige, exceptionality. The system encourages seeking these values and rewards those who can provide evidence that they are “the best and the brightest”. However, one thing I have learnt in the last six years is that we, the students exploring the world, need humility.

Just like yin and yang, or if you prefer any other, less religious, way of expressing the natural need for balance, praising exceptionality and success is meaningless without the presence of humility.

When I arrived in Oxford nearly two years ago, I realised that there is a vast number of people who are more talented, more determined, and generally more deserving than I will ever be (I will not go into the matter of desert right now, although I would very much love to). And confronting the feelings of my own insignificance and weakness, I came to realise that humility is not inherently a bad thing.

Humility does not mean self‐pity or the ultimate loss of ambition. Humility, the acknowledgement of one’s unimportance in the vast world, brings one immeasurable benefit: the connection to the community. The realisation that one’s success is relative and the acceptance that one is not the better than the rest opens space for cooperation, compassion, and eventually self‐fulfillment.

It is not uncommon in Oxford to meet the prototype of the “young and bright” student who has achieved so much your head starts to spin. Usually, in a very sophisticated manner (don’t forget this is Oxford after all) they mention what great things they have achieved, who have they met, and what amazing things they have lined up for the summer. We, at least in theory, live in a meritocratic world and therefore, the expectation is, that such success is rewarded. Either with a nod, or if you are a lady with a nice smile (because that’s our job, isn’t it).

Now there is nothing wrong with being successful or bright or young or talented. It’s a brilliant combination. However, very few students will tell you about the help they have had to get to where they are. Admitting that without someone’s help one wouldn’t be able to achieve any of the exciting things is the ultimate sign of humility.

Yes, you might agree with that. “But what’s the point? Why is this important? ” The point is, that without humility and acknowledging to have received help to reach “the stars”, the person isolates themselves from the community. Especially with modern, liberal students, this is a dangerous position. It leads to selfishness and a lack of compassion.

And, it is somewhat ironic too, when someone claims credit for their success when you can easily point to the extensive support they’ve had. Again, it is not wrong to either claim credit for success or to be helped, but attributing all of this to solely one’s very own devices is just silly.

In almost all cases people get help. From their parents, who pay for their trips or private education, their family contacts, or scholarships to the lottery of birth which means they don’t have to do manual labour from the age of 5 to feed the rest of the family. In one way or another there has always been help.

We need to acknowledge just how much help and luck has come our way which let us do great things. It is the humility which connects us back to our communities without which we’d be nothing and the same humility forces us to give back. Not because it feels g reat to be altruistic or because you’re worried you might need help too someday. But because it is the right thing to do. Once we isolate ourselves from the community, the entire idea of humanity is in danger. We came to where we are because of others and if we fail to reflect that through humility, we put the entire community and its function at risk.

 

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