Leaderboards

​Well, I’m at it again. Checking the leaderboards.

I’ve always enjoyed playing video games. I am not great at most of them. But it never kills my joy. Until I start looking at the leaderboards. There’s a certain rush to being measured and found to be “good.” It’s validating, it’s an affirmation of value in that context.

It’s also absolutely destructive. Once you get sucked into the hole of striving to be “good,” you tie your value only to the numbers. The experience doesn’t matter anymore, it’s become entirely about the pursuit of that threshold. And there is no “good enough.” You will say that there is. You’ll even believe it. But then you hit that plateau, and you think “maybe I can get a little better.” So you push for the next target, the next milestone, and you keep pushing.

This isn’t the destructive part. Self-improvement is a beautiful thing. But it doesn’t stop there. You keep your eyes on those leaderboards. And you’re in a good place, but there’s still people better. They’re better at the game. People want them on the team more than you, obviously, because they provide more value. So you get upset, and you get jealous. You think about quitting the game, but deep down, you still love it. You go through stages.

“I dont care”

“They’re cheating somehow”

“The game’s just rigged/broken”

“I’m just useless, but I’m gonna make it the team’s problem.”

Whatever it is, you’re lying to yourself. You need to hit the top of that leaderboard now. It eats at you, it tears you up inside. So you keep pushing. But you’ve hit the point of diminishing returns. You’re trying too hard now, and nothing comes smoothly or naturally, like it did when you played for the love of the game. So you sink further and further. Your friends probably don’t want to play anymore, and you’re running solos way more than you intended. You tell yourself that they don’t want you there, but they do. They miss you when you didn’t give a shit about your stats, when you actually enjoyed things.

And maybe, just maybe, you get lucky. Maybe not all of those people disappear. Maybe some even try to tell you you’re not doing it like you used to, and that they want to help. It’s not easy for them, but they care enough, and they don’t want you leaving the game. They just want you to stop taking it all so damn seriously.

Sometimes those things seep through. And it takes time to get your eyes off the leaderboards. Habits are tough to break. But you notice that the less you track those stats, the more fun the game becomes. You remember that the numbers don’t tell the story of the time you spend doing what you love, and that the only people judging your rank are dickheads. Including yourself.

This ain’t really about video games. But I’m glad I’m learning to stop being so damn obsessed with those leaderboards.