The psychology of positive envy: how we can use envy to progress in life
We often cite envy as the religion of the mediocre, the doctrine of the beta-minded. In a conventional outlook, it stems from any unflattering social comparison that threatens our self-evaluation and worth, and this emotion is normally associated with a weak and antagonistic dimension. However, envy is an emotion that needn’t always be seen as debilitating; like many things in life, ideals are the precursor to perception — envy can be destructive, yet to a certain degree, it can be used for emulative action as well. The person who envies does not always have to exert a hostile attitude towards whoever is envied. Rather, if we can effectively translate those negative feelings into positive action, it’s plausible to state that we’ve attained a better understanding of our nature. To do so, we must examine what constitutes unhealthy versus healthy envy, and how both are employed to one’s detriment or benefit.
No philosopher has emphasized the tremendous role envy plays in individual and collective life than Nietzsche. He terms it ressentiment — the humiliation we feel in the face of what we want but cannot have. His concept of envy originated with the existence of two equally striking forces: the overman and the herd. In classical history, figures of great influence and idolatry were identified with aristocratic values such as winning, making money, having wide knowledge, and securing fame. But the wealthy did not go unchallenged. The weak and helpless mass of men and women whom Nietzsche referred to as the herd desperately wanted to bring down these men of higher power. However, lacking the practical resources of social or financial leverage, they resorted to the only thing they could think of: if we couldn’t become like them, why not bring them down to our level?
So they employed the weapon of guilt. The herd realized that the easiest way to distract yourself and others from your own shortcomings is to attack the consciences of those typically praised for virtue. They began to adjust the kingdom of morality as belonging to the pitiful, the meek, the persecuted, as opposed to classical assets like self-will and ambition. Gripped with envy toward the rich nobility, resentful of those intellectually and morally adept, the men of ressentiment took these feelings, not as an incentive to raise himself to such desirable prestige. Instead, he tried to flip the perception of virtue as both an outlet for his emotions and a vault over the hurdle of self-betterment. But, as Nietzsche sought to expose, such men were neither honest nor straight with himself. His pride was what deceived his heart.
How can we harbor the strength of this emotion without falling prey to defensive fiction? How do we not become the herd?
There are two types of envy — malicious and benign. Negative, “malicious envy” is the one we’re told to identify, the category that belongs to the herd When we brood over envy incessantly and unhealthily, instead of focusing our efforts on gaining what it is we want, we loom over what we don’t have and bitterly resent on those who do possess them. Self-destructive manifestations inhibit us from finding the intrinsic motivation to progress in life, from realizing the treasures we already possess, from leading a satisfying life.
On the other hand, positive, or “benign” envy sounds like an oxymoron, but what it really means is admiration. It’s using jealousy to fuel a proactive, self-improving, goal-oriented life — a life not curated to simply meet previously set expectations but to always reach for new confidences. Meanwhile, you must still stay realistic about who you are compared to others. Jealousy that is properly identified and managed can result in healthy maturation of envy.
Say you’ve been eyeing a director promotion for a while now. You’ve been diligently working towards this goal. You’ve developed strong relationships with your fellow managers and employees, consulted with both your boss and company advisors for ways to improve your credentials. When that position opens up for grabs, you’re sure you’ve secured the spot.
Until your boss announces that he’s choosing a younger colleague, Andy. Unlike you, he’s only been in this company for a couple of years, whereas you’ve been working up to where you are now (from the bottom) for nearly eight years. He doesn’t work nearly as hard as you do.
In this situation, it’s quite natural to feel envious of Andy. Why did he get the position when he doesn’t seem to deserve it? You could think of ways to expose a list of his most serious flaws and mistakes, knock him down a few steps.
Or you could be a little more conscientious and try to imitate his success. Maybe you should adopt Andy’s friendly, easygoing demeanor, instead of always being serious. Maybe you can learn from Andy the habit of focusing your efforts on the assignments that really matter, rather than trying to perform max on everything. That’s what positive envy is about.
One thing that malicious jealousy can do is bolster your self-serving bias. You take accountability for your accomplishments and fortes but refuse to put your name in situations that went wrong. And then you blind your perception of someone’s character to be one-sided, emphasizing their faults and acting as if there’s not a thing or two you could learn from them. That’s one hallmark of malicious envy — there’s that twinge of perceived injustice, of misconstrued unfairness, that tells you that person is just like you, but better. That feeling can take over you.
But you needn’t feel alone in bearing the burden of resentment — we all possess it. Our misgivings are innately nested in our nature, starting with the first two sons of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel. Abel is adored by God — his offerings are magnified, whereas Cain is left to suffer the short end of the stick. Cain ferments malignant envy, bitter towards his brother simply because Abel’s spirit bore the fruits of God’s love while his own was forsaken.
So Cain approaches God about this inequality. Why, he asks, are you treating my brother with such affection but cleaving my toil? What makes him any more deserving than me?
God’s answer is what prompted Cain’s spite, revealing to the boy what he did not understand or perhaps knew but did not accept — that his suffering is the outcome of meager sacrifices of poor quality. It’s not clear whether it’s true, that Abel’s offerings were more thoughtful and higher-quality, or if God was just giving Abel special treatment.
Regardless, Cain is not only suffering from the feeling of inadequacy, but he is told that his suffering is self-induced. He can’t tolerate it. So he becomes enraged, and this rage translates into violence; this rage carried on throughout human history and became an embedded normalcy in human behavior.
We are, in so many ways, like Cain. When the fruits of our labor are left to rot or when we’ve tried so hard but it just isn’t working, we’re predisposed (because of our just-world bias) to become bitter. We think good things happen to good, diligent people. Our concept of “good things” is measured by our collection of material rewards. However, this materialistic unfairness in life, according to Stoic philosopher Seneca, doesn’t influence our ability to be happy. As he states, “Contrast a good man who is rolling in wealth with a man who has nothing, except that in himself he has all things; they will be equally good, though they experience unequal fortune.”
What can we learn from Stoics in regards to envy?
Marcus Aurelius warned that envy could potentially blind us from the treasures we already have stored — he believed that we should, before doing anything else, take a step back. “Don’t set your mind on things you don’t possess… but count the blessings you actually possess and think how much you would desire them if they weren’t already yours.”
When the thing we envy is something external, like money, a nice car, or that dream job, we desire pleasure rather than long-term happiness. The focus of our envy is directed towards what Stoics call “preferred indifferent(s)” — things that are nice to have, but not vital to an authentically meaningful life. Furthermore, these superficial things are out of our control and could be taken away in mere seconds, which makes them unreliable as a source for appeasing envy.
But when we’re desirous for something internal (a favorable internal locus of control or the virtuous actions of someone else) then the signs that say we need to improve ourselves appear right in front of us. If we continually seek to fortify our own faculties, Stoics believe, it’s possible to get rid of envious feelings altogether. After all, Marcus Aurelius once said, “The more we value things outside our control, the less control we have.”
To strategically apply envy as a means of self-refinement, we need to acknowledge that we often forget the things we crave don’t belong to just one specific, very attractive life. Nobody out there lives a life that is totally ideal, even at first glance. Rather than wanting to be the beloved, the chosen, the esteemed, the things we desire can be pursued in lesser, weaker, but still very real doses in countless other places. In turn, we liken the odds of creating smaller, more feasible, and more realistic versions of the lives we are drawn to.
In those moments where we are met with envious feelings, we can choose more constructive reactions like emulation. Emulation occurs when the recognition of one’s own inferiorities leads them to view their superiors as figures to learn from — after all, philosopher Kierkegaard noted that “envy is concealed admiration” — and in turn, we unlock the possibility of transcending our superiors.
Positive envy not only remedies the individual but is good for society as a whole. It means more people will focus on the new and the better, instead of the destruction and the stagnation of others. Benign envy can be the antidote to its own inherent chaos.
At the end of the day, though, it’s about how envy manifests itself in you — not about what others have done or what they have. Our endeavors can only unravel and disentangle themselves when we reflect on who we are and what we truly value.
