How to Raise a Generation of Cheaters

Thank you, PricewaterhouseCoopers accountants, for inadvertently revealing a greater truth.

Thank you, PricewaterhouseCoopers accountants, for inadvertently revealing a greater truth.

The gift of the muffed envelope at the finale of this year’s Oscars was that it brilliantly illuminated the folly of artistic competition. In that sweet interlude of confusion, it became clear that it’s patently absurd to pit a movie like Moonlight against a movie like La La Land. It’s pitting an eagle against a duck. Which is the “better” bird? One looks beautiful, flies at 10,000 feet, and symbolizes freedom. The other looks beautiful, swims, and tastes yummy with oranges. What do you need right now? A high-flier or a water enthusiast? Inspiration or sustenance? There’s your “winner.”

Both La La Land and Moonlight could have taken the Oscar — that was clear from many of the reactions from both film camps. (To be clear, I’m not equating either film with either bird.) Yet any of the nominated films for Best Picture could have won it, too, as well as a handful of other movies that weren’t even nominated — movies that were just as beautiful and met other needs.

So, what does it mean to be “the best” in something? And how does this all relate to cheating?

Our culture has always loved sports. Great. Bring on the World Series, the Superbowl, the NBA Finals, and the Olympics — societally accepted venues for individuals or teams to duke it out within the confines of the game’s structure and rules. Play the game, follow the rules, and may the “best” team/athlete win.

Keep in mind that “best” within this context means, grammar aside, the “most winningest.” Not the team that came from behind against all odds, worked together the most harmoniously or the hardest, or displayed the most courage, honesty, or persistence. Nope, none of those. Just… the winner.

All those lessons that sports purport to teach — teamwork, loyalty, grit — fall away in the face of that thin line that separates winners from losers, “best” from “all the rest.” When sports was something peripheral to our daily lives — a weekend pursuit, a hobby, an afterschool activity — its all-or-nothing competitive message was manageable.

But then sports morphed from quaint National Pastime to Mega-Profitable Big Business, and in 2001 the British show Pop Idol banked on the concept that competition in other venues could also be lucrative. They were so right. Pop Idol spawned a multitude of international versions, including American Idol.

Now we want to turn every human endeavor into a battlefield: dancing, cooking, innovation, modeling, design, weight loss, art, tattoo art, and perhaps the most impossible of all, love. The Bachelor/ette franchise is still going strong after 15 years.

Can we please take a breather here and remember that the Olympics, the original Greek competitions, were held every four years, not every four minutes? What is this saturation of competition doing to us?

It is creating a cult of winning. The message that is pounded into us every day is, “winning is everything.” We are so thoroughly programmed to believe that failure is not an option that we will do anything to avoid “losing.”

Enter cheating.

Recently I went to an award ceremony to recognize local philanthropists, where the most decorated honoree winkingly described how he successfully cheated on tests in college, to the general amusement of those gathered. Chuckle, chuckle.

In grad school, I witnessed a classmate parlay her burgeoning romantic relationship with her professor into a financially rewarding and resume-boosting grant.

And at our local, “excellent” public high school, cheating has become de rigueur. Students routinely cheat on homework, quizzes, papers, and tests. They know that to win admittance to the top colleges, they must be at the top of their rankings — and who cares about this stuff anyway? It’s just a bunch of meaningless busywork. (Much of it is, but not all.)

Is it just me? Is cheating not really considered cheating anymore? By raising my children to do their own work, to value honesty even when no one is looking, have I somehow disadvantaged them in a society that thrives on cheating? My son did not make Honor Roll last semester, because his true grades were a hair below 90%. His classmates, who cheated, did. (Oh, the irony of the term “Honor Roll.”)

Cheaters never prosper?

As a child, I believed that meant cheaters would somehow always get caught in the end. I know now that many cheaters never get caught. They run banks, they run races, they run for office. But to prosper also means to thrive, flourish, and become strong — not necessarily in material ways. You can cheat on a math test or a blood test, but not on a metaphysical one. No one can give you the answer for how to love more.

I don’t believe we are on this planet to win. We are here to thrive, to grow in all our capacities, and to support each other’s growth. Fear of losing drives cheating, which in turn drives an even greater loss, that of personal integrity and the kind of deep calm that comes with knowing you did your best.

Yet perhaps our cult of competition drives the greatest loss of all: community. In our mania to win, we necessarily separate from one another; since there can always be only one winner, your success is a threat to me. Competition is killing us, by drawing that thin, hard line between individuals, groups, and nations. The very real idea that every human being is part of a whole is shattered, over and over, by competition.

For the human race to thrive, each one of us must see ourselves reflected in the other. Unity is not a utopian slogan, it’s our underlying reality. And fostering it fully is essential to our survival.

And the award goes to…

This doesn’t mean we should all get trophies for everything; it means we need to redefine what competition is good for and what it’s not. Sports? Check. Education? Not so much. Art? Definitely not.

La La Land as a work of art was not diminished in that moment when it was revealed that it “lost.” Nor was Moonlight’s artistic value raised when it “won.” Rudyard Kipling said it best:

“…meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same…”

So, how to raise a generation of cheaters? Here are 10 easy steps:

1. Focus on winning to the exclusion of all else, including effort.

2. Never encourage others to do well.

3. Judge everything by comparison, rather than on its own merits.

4. Assume that because “everyone else cheats,” your kids will too.

5. Tell your children that success is measured by status, money, and rank.

6. Watch every competitive reality show.

7. Make your kids watch every competitive reality show.

8. Cheat.

9. Cheat.

10. Cheat.