The Dimensions of Competition
If you run a financial company and three young people walk in:
The first brings capital. He pulls in a billion dollars from his father. How does the boss see him?
He’s the golden child. Treated like royalty, the biggest year-end bonus. As long as he doesn’t cause trouble, you don’t even need him to do anything.
The second brings connections. He always ensures the company sits on an information asymmetry advantage. How does the boss see him?
Still the golden child. Treated just like the first one—lavish perks, top bonus.
The third is you. You bring neither money nor connections. You’re just here to earn a living. How does the boss treat you?
You compete with most other people like you. You earn the company 1 million, and it gives you 100,000.
Why can’t it give you 900,000? Simple. The guy at the desk next to you will take 110,000. He’ll settle for 110,000. So you can’t ask for more than that. If you do, the boss hires him instead.
See that?
You’re colleagues, but are you really competing on the same stage?
Nope.
The first young man is actually competing with the capital providers. The second is competing with the experts. But you—you’re on the same stage as those customer-service reps groveling to square-dancing aunties, delivering rice and cooking oil door-to-door, running around chasing clients.
You aren’t on the same playing field. It’s brutal, but that’s the reality.
In adult life, no path is easy. Success never comes from nowhere.
Either they bring capital. Or they bring connections. Or they bring talent. Or they’re ridiculously lucky—the ultimate fated winners. If none of those apply, they’re usually obsessively hardworking. Hard work itself is a kind of talent, and it varies by person. You might concentrate effectively for eight hours a day; they can do fifteen. They stay locked in every single hour, minute, second—naturally in the zone without even trying.
So you have no capital, no background, no special talent, no luck, and no extreme diligence—and yet you still want to tilt the odds in your favor.
How?
Simple: differentiate yourself. Offer something others don’t.
Among programmers, the ones who get promoted fastest usually aren’t the best coders—they’re the best talkers.
Among salespeople, the fastest-promoted usually aren’t the smoothest talkers—they’re the ones who understand tech best.
Water is only valuable when sold in a desert. Near a lake, it’s worthless. The same goes for people.