Second Best

‘We try harder’

This was how Avis positioned itself when Hertz was leading the market. In a humble, smart statement, Avis gracefully slid into the backseat (pun very much intended), but made a memorable campaign out of it, a positioning statement that is studied now as a case study in business schools.

While the company made hoards out of humility, how many of us are really content with being second best? Or can even accept being second best? How many people really relish criticism – of any of their creations, their article, their music, their rajma? It is professional and mature to accept criticism, yes, and attempt to reach perfection, but just how many internalize the criticism to actually use it? Of course, when your boss tells you that your idea is impracticable, when you stayed up all night researching the concept, you say yes. When your wife says you cannot cook, after you left no stone unturned to make her a surprise dinner, you say yes. When your painting teacher tells you that you’ll never be a painter, when you have given the painting your all, you say yes. These yes’s are based on one simple assumption, that boss is a better businessman, wife is a better cook, art teacher is a better painter. They may not be the best, but they are better than you are. They know more. You become second best. And how many people can honestly admit, that they welcome that view? It may be true. But there is that inexplicable frisson of disappointment, an inaudible sigh of frustration, a silent cry of ‘Goddammit’ deep, deep down. Always.

I have a colleague who, apart from being my muse for this post, is also an obnoxious and possessive creative designer. Without a doubt, great at what she churns out of her Mac. But stubborn as a mule, a conformist to the archaic, and a professional nightmare, though when you gossip with her at the coffee machine, she is as sweet as candy. Her refusal to accept criticism completely limits her talent to what has been explored – but she is happy. She is not willing to be acknowledged as second best. She bludgeons her way though briefings and feedback meetings, and I can see that it hurts people to tell her to do it right, probably as much as it hurts her on hearing it. Not that I am the prophet of humility, but it is painful to see progress being stemmed in this way.

On the other hand, another one of the designers is always looking for comments, ideas, and feedback from her team and others. When she receives it, I have seen her tweak her creatives to incorporate the new information. One would think she is a pushover, but she deletes it right out if she thinks it adds nothing to improve the quality. If she thinks it works, she has no qualms about apportioning rightful credit to the originator of that idea. She is constantly looking for sources to sharpen her vision, and will not stop until she arrives at what she thinks is perfection.

There must be someone out there who is better at this than both of them, separately and put together. Most of us are second best to someone at almost everything we do. We may or may not exercise our right to say ‘Goddammit’, when someone brings it to our notice. But what determines whether we become a Hertz, an Avis or a Sharma Taxi Garage, depends purely upon how open we are, to knowing that we are always second best. And we’ll always try harder.