What if it is your fault?

When I was younger, I frequently complained. If I performed poorly in a class, I blamed the teacher’s inadequate teaching. Similarly, at work, I attributed any failures to my manager’s incompetence.

This tendency of offloading blame to factors outside my control was convenient for my ego in the short term, but quite pernicious for my long-term interests.

If I didn’t do well in a class, perhaps the teacher was partially to blame, but my tendency to play video games until early morning every day also contributed to my poor grade. Perhaps my manager was incompetent, but I too was at fault for not building a network and finding allies to make it harder for a single person to undermine me in performance reviews.

It’s taken years of self-reflection and deliberate effort to recognize these truths. At the time, my complaints clouded my ability to see my own shortcomings.

What’s most insidious about this tendency is its ability to lull you into complacency and a sense of victimhood. When complaining to friends about work issues, I always presented a skewed perspective, making it unlikely they would see my role in the problems.

The startling fact is that this complaining and blaming others is against my own self-interest! I wasted time and energy stagnating when, in an alternate, more self-aware reality, I could have been working on my weaknesses, becoming smarter and more successful.

So, how do we become more self aware? I’ve found it quite difficult in practice. Of course, a dose of intellectual honesty can get us part of the way there, but what has really helped me personally is actively working to improve at skill-based games like poker and chess.

Both of these games have a notion of level. When you start out in chess, you get assigned a level (called ELO) and get matched with other novices with a similar ELO. When you start playing poker, you typically play at pretty low stakes against mostly other novices that are around the same level as you.

This leveling system is crucial; if you’re not progressing, there’s no one to blame but yourself. There’s no teacher or manager responsible for a stagnant ELO or consistent losses in poker.

As you get better in these games, you are forced to confront your strengths and weaknesses. For example, I have a tendency to fear the worst-case scenario. This tendency initially hurt my poker performance. After being pushed around for hundreds of games, I was forced to introspect and realize my erroneous ways. As I began to stand my ground more, I started to win more hands.

Replacing risk aversion with risk management has also had an effect on my life outside of poker. In the same way I was giving up on many hands due to fear of having worse hands, I was also giving up on many professional opportunities due to the same irrational fear. When I started improving in poker, I also made the decision to take the leap of faith and start a new, risky gig that ultimately made me happier and more fulfilled.

Risk aversion is just one of the many aspects that skill-based games have taught me. Some others include attention to detail, managing emotional state during setbacks, the importance of preparation, and so on. Most importantly, I developed the habit of brutally honest self-reflection whenever things aren’t going well. While I will never be able to identify all my blindspots, I have noticed a significant improvement to accurately assign blame to myself after taking these skill games more seriously.

If you find yourself complaining more often than you’d like, I highly recommend taking a break from complaining and divert that energy into improving at skill-based games instead.