Misunderstanding behind arrogance
Lately, the topic of arrogance has been a big issue for me. I discovered that my dear friends, the people who I care about and spend a lot of my time with, think I’m an arrogant person.
I’ve been trying to dig a little deeper, and find out why exactly people think I’m arrogant. This is rather difficult however for several reasons. Firstly, people don’t seem to have an agreeable definition for what is meant by arrogance. And secondly, people tend to hide what they think about other people.
I’ve always considered myself to be very confident. I’m extremely confident in my abilities. This confidence however is often seen instead as arrogance.
I was meeting with a friend recently, and the topic of arrogance came up. She mentioned that she thought I was a very arrogant person. This came as a shock to me. I deeply cared about this person, as she was a dear friend. I wanted to meet with her again so badly to catch up. To do so, I cancelled one of my business meetings, and I rearranged my schedule just to fit her in. We spent hours talking, but it cost me half a day of unproductivity due to schedule arrangements and travel. I had no problem with this however. I wanted to catch up with her and see how she was doing because I truly cared about her.
When this dear friend of mine mentioned that she thought I was arrogant, I took it to heart. Here I was spending time listening to this girl, asking about her life, and genuinely caring about what she’s been up to, and then I find out she thinks I’m self-centred.
I have another friend who thinks similarly. I spend a lot of time with them also. But she, too, thinks I’m an extremely arrogant individual.
I go out of my way to make time for my friends. I care about people with no expectation in return. And yet, I’m still seen as an arrogant individual. This deserves further investigation.
I hold many secrets. Many people have trusted me enough to open up and confide in me about their troubles. I’ve always assumed people think I’m trustworthy because of my ability to listen to and care about others. But I wonder, do these people who have confided in me, and these people I care about, also think I’m arrogant?
So why do people think I’m arrogant. Well, according to some of my friends, I portray the image that I genuinely think I’m better than everyone else. Is this true? Well my first objection is, if these people think that I think I’m better than them, then how do they explain the fact that I care about them so much, and go out of my way to spend time with them? If I genuinely thought I was better than these people, why would I waste my time caring about them, let alone talking with them?
I’ve always been extremely confident in my abilities. I’m also extremely competitive. Unfortunately, this is usually seen the wrong way.
I consider myself to be an extremely intelligent individual. I don’t believe I’m arrogant in saying this. I’m just confident enough to make such a claim, because I know it’s true. I was confident enough in my abilities to drop out of college, turn down a six-figure salary, and spend the remaining of my life savings on a plane ticket to the US, without first having enough money for accommodation or food. Needless to say, I survived three months in California, and it was an incredible experience.
After making my way to Stanford University, I was introduced to this brilliant individual who ended up becoming one of my closest friends. Almost instantly upon talking to each other for the first time, this friend thought I was brilliant as well. So brilliant in fact, that he went around introducing me to people as “the best software guy in Silicon Valley.”
I’ve always been aimed to be the best at something. In early primary school, I was the best at math. Late primary school, I was the fastest short distance runner. I then became the best at chess. Then the best at programming. And then the best at business.
But going to Silicon Valley and being introduced as the best software person made me felt uncomfortable. I brought up this issue with my friend once, and said that he was overselling me. He replied that he thought he was underselling me. I couldn’t argue with this. Eventually we settled and agreed that I would be introduced as “one of the best” instead of “the best.”
I’m extremely good at software architect. Although I can’t say I’m the best, I know I’m better than most. In fact, I haven’t met anybody who understands software architecture as deeply as I do. People consider me arrogant when I say this, so I’ll need to backtrack a little.
As soon as I got my first computer, I knew what I wanted to do. When I created my first graphical computer game at age 12, I knew programming was what I wanted to pursue as a career. I was lucky. I found my passion at an age when most people weren’t even thinking about careers. But after learning several programming languages before my 13th birthday, I knew, with absolute certainty, what I wanted to do with my life.
I was incredibly focused. And this is what most people seem to ignore. Although it could be argued that I had a natural gift for programming (which I argue against, by the way), I didn’t become good at it overnight. I became good at programming after spending thousands upon thousands of hours of repetitious practice.
This concept seems absurd to most. People don’t seem to be able to comprehend how I can claim to have hit the 10,000-hour mark within eight years. But honestly, I believe I’ve clocked many more hours than that – the number is probably closer to 15,000.
The reason I’m so good at programming, and the reason I understand software at such a deep level, is because I used to spend every waking moment programming. Literally. I didn’t have a social life. I woke up, I wrote code, I showered, I ate, I wrote more code, I went to school, I wrote code, I went home, I wrote code, I ate, I wrote code, I went to bed (dreaming about code). I repeated this cycle. On weekends, I did nothing but program. I didn’t go out. I wrote code instead. I used to wag school classes just so I could program. When I was pretending to do my legal studies assignment in class, I was actually writing code. I was obsessed.
And this is why I’m so good at software now. I’ve gone through university knowing more about software than not just my peers, but my lecturers also. I’ve met many great programmers during my time, but I’ve never met anyone who understands the art and beauty of software architecture like I do. This is not arrogance. It’s simply the truth.
Never have I claimed that I’m the best software architect there is. But I do claim that I haven’t yet met anyone as good as me. I’ve read about, and know of, software architects better than me, but have never met them in person.
I’ve never been afraid to show off my skills. It’s how careers are built. Naturally, I’m extremely competitive. But I’m always willing to admit when I don’t know something. I don’t believe a single individual, no matter how brilliant, can build a large corporation by themselves. This is why I seek other extraordinary people that compliment my skills. I know a lot, but I don’t know everything. This is why I build teams.
Another issue people seem to have about me is that they seem inferior in comparison. I’m always working on something big. I’ve failed a lot, and haven’t yet been successful at anything notable, but this ambition of mine puts distance between me and the rest of the world.
Do I think I’m superior to everyone? No, of course not. I’m just different to everyone else. I’m unconventional. I don’t follow the crowd. I make my own path.
My closest friend has told me I always see the good in people. I don’t like to make judgements based on what people have done in the past. I don’t care about what degrees people have. What I care about is what they’re capable to doing. This is why I build unconventional teams.
A close friend of mine told me that I’m extremely good at analysing people, but because of my pretension I don’t appear to listen to people.
Now I do consider myself to be a pretty important person. A lot of people depend on me. I’m attempting some huge undertakings. I’m so confident in my abilities that I have no doubt that I’ll succeed. Eventually. The possibility of failure doesn’t register with me. Failure just means to give up when something doesn’t go right. Things never seem to go right for me. But I don’t even know how to give up.
During my time in Silicon Valley, I’ve met some very arrogant people. Some of Peter Thiel’s 20 under 20 personnel come to mind. But I think to myself, why do I think these people are arrogant? I think they’re arrogant because they think they’re better than everyone else. But then I think, they are actually better. They’ve accomplished something great. They’ve done a lot more than I have at least, plus they’re younger.
So what is it about arrogance that people don’t like? Well, people hate to feel stupid. They hate to feel unimportant. Naturally, people hate anyone smarter or better than them. Jealousy is part of human nature.
The world is a unique place however. Everyone in this world has strengths and weaknesses. No one is perfect. No one is the best. There is something that you have that I don’t. There is also something that I have that you don’t. This doesn’t make either of us better than the other. It just makes us different.
Because of my own self-confidence, I don’t require anyone’s approval or praise. I already know I’m smart, and I already know I’m talented. I get little value out of someone complimenting me. When I hear, “you’re so smart!” I usually feel uncomfortable and don’t know how to respond. Usually I say nothing more than, “ok,” like it’s not a big deal. Unfortunately I’ve realised that this can be perceived as arrogance. People who lack confidence seem to feel a similar form of uncomfortableness, except they try to reject the compliment of someone noticing their intellect or talent. This is seen as modesty.
I still don’t know why some people seem to think I’m arrogant. Perhaps I am a little arrogant. I know I’m in a better position than most, and I know I’ll become more successful than most. If this is what’s considered as arrogance, then I guess I’m arrogant. I’m not going to hide away in a little corner where no one can see me and pretend not to be as smart as I really am.
I may not yet have accomplished anything world changing, but I will, soon enough. And if I have the evidence to back this up, will people still consider all of this to be arrogance?
