The Trouble With Perfection

What can happen when we demand perfection of our children or ourselves

The road to perfection is littered with landmines waiting to kill the joy and other benefits of things like creativity and spontaneity, as well as self-confidence.

The ability to be spontaneous is one the great strengths of little children. They live in the moment, following their curiosity, darting here and there, picking things up and putting them down, trying, exploring, laughing. That is until they go to school.

Spontaneous behaviour can be messy – “unruly” some might say. And school frowns on that, as do many jobs and even some so-called recreational pursuits, which instead demand – or at least aim for – rule following and the pursuit of perfection. Now, I’m not saying that we shouldn’t try to do things well in our lives. And everything has its place I suppose. But the school and working worlds encourage perfection to what I think is a dangerous level.

We are encouraged from a young age to sit still and pay attention, and to work hard in pursuit of excellence on tests and employee evaluations, rather than to value doing well for its own sake. (I’ve written elsewhere about extrinsic versus intrinsic motivation.)

So, like anything else that is avoided or underused, spontaneity withers away in most people’s lives. We become shy and inhibited about trying new things, about taking risks, about expressing ourselves authentically. And that is unfortunate, since those things are important components of creativity, something that we can all use more of.

Another danger of demanding perfection of ourselves or our children is fear of incompetency. Take drawing, singing, playing the piano, or even writing, for instance. Yes, some children get good marks in those subjects at school. And some people are fabulously talented professional artists, musicians, and writers. (Note that good marks and talent aren’t always the same thing.) But we can all draw, make music, and write as a way of expressing ourselves, communicating, and just generally enjoying and enhancing our lives. That is, if we don’t become too inhibited to enjoy these pursuits in spite of our lack of perfection because somebody – art critic, teacher, parent, our own low self-esteem inner critic – defines what is good and tells us we belong in the audience.

My own upbringing encouraged perfection. If I didn’t bring home report cards with high or perfect marks, I was punished and I was forever being admonished not to waste my potential. (So I tried to attain that impossible goal, not because I wanted to but because I wanted to avoid punishment.) However, fortunately for me, my family didn’t have enough money to provide lessons in things like drawing, playing the piano, or writing. Nor did they value those aspects of life or think I was particularly talented in them, let alone apt to become a professional. (I was supposed to become a school teacher, but more about that another time.)

At any rate, that meant I wasn’t inhibited about my journal scribblings because nobody defined what was good or bad, or told me I belonged on the reader rather than writer side because I couldn’t attain perfection. In fact, nobody paid any attention at all to my furtive and private word play. And that play helped me develop my creativity. And because nobody expected me to be perfect, I was able to retain the ability to play, explore, experiment, be spontaneous…at least with writing. And I think that my 50+-year-old portfolio indicates that although I’ve not attained perfection, some of my writing is pretty good.

Here is another example. I know many kids who is have fun noodling around on the piano. And then, somebody thinks their kid might “make something” of their apparent talent if they are “serious enough” about doing so. That’s when the pianist has to stop playing, get a teacher, and start practicing. A rigorous schedule is followed, there are competitions to take part it, always on the road to the holy grail of perfection. Yes, there are those talented exceptions who are eager to hone their special skills, but for the rest of us, the joy and spontaneity of play can easily flee as a task becomes goal-oriented.

How sad to be taught that learning is drudgery, that trial and error is inefficient, that there is something wrong with the joy of discovery and creation, that the only valid pursuits in life are those done for financial reward or for other people’s praise.

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