The Preference Paradox: Perils of Likability and Capability in Writing
I have a long list of books to read, which is partially why I don’t buy new books often — also because I want to avoid the hype associated with a new book or new author (or returning) author, who’s apparently written a book everyone should read, that’s about the defining humanity, or will shake your core, or change your worldview, or however, it’s supposed to change your life. I recently read a book that’s been on my backburner list — one that was celebrated for its wit, heroism, and explanations of the conditions of humanity. This book came very celebrated, so I had high expectations when I first read it.
By the time I read this book, I had mediocre at best expectations. And the book still failed those.
I’m not going to name the book in case someone comes across this post and says, “That book was my rib in college, how dare you tear it apart,” and yes, I care about crafting a positive image on this platform. But I’m also not going to name it, because I don’t think it matters, and it’s really beside the point. Besides, we’ve all read books, watched movies, eaten foods, and hung out with people, who others hyped up, and then when we experienced found they weren’t all that, or super disappointing. So substitute this with whatever book came to you very decorated and dashed all your expectations.
In fact, please put that thing in the comment section, because I want to read them.
But I brought this up because I’ve thought a lot about my own journey with writing. I’ve written since I was a kid; primarily as an exercise to move through grief productively. What’s stopped me from publishing was the general consensus, that, while my writing is average at best (at least they didn’t say it was bad), I’ve generally heard feedback that I don’t write about things that other people care about. Or, they have that need met in their lives so they don’t (and won’t) relate to a protagonist suffering through those needs.
Of course, there’s a separate essay about what I suspect this means (readers will only read what reflects their worldview and reject everything else), but this would be a good topic to speak on. Besides, there are lots of things that others like that I don’t, and I will name those: sports, action movies, impromptu outings, long-form text messages, and solving people’s problems whom they don’t know too well for free.
There’s nothing wrong with what I mentioned, and I can see the value in them.
That’s easily explained in that so many others enjoy them, to the point where they’re staples in society today. But it did bring up an interesting point.
Does it matter if something or someone is likable? Or, if someone or something is competent?
Personal Likability and Dislikes
As mentioned before, there’s a lot I dislike in the world, but I don’t want to spout these off into a crowd, because I care about hurting someone’s feelings with my insensitive pontifications. And — well, being honest here, I get more out of not revealing this to others, to begin with. But it’s also because I don’t see likability to be at the heart of why I do or don’t do something.
I look at the world as it has a lot to experience, and constructing a world that’s simply about likes, restricts me from learning something new.
It’s also because likability is really about a series of preferences. It’s much more so about whether something or someone is preferred, and that’s due to a myriad of reasons; perhaps this thing or person brings a lot of value to someone because it’s conventionally beautiful, or because it brings people together; perhaps people get together and talk based on common interests, and they’re most invested in keeping contacts with people who are the same as them. Or maybe they connect based on a shared dislike, which I think draws people together because it’s about sharing alike.
I guess, whenever I think about likability and preferences, they can seem polarizing because it’s about a bias. This is all getting too theoretical so I’ll name a benign preference that I have. I prefer cats to dogs. I like both, but cats require less overall maintenance, stay indoors (perfect for the introvert in me), and are easier to deal with. I also prefer how cats look to dogs, although dogs are very cute to me as well.
Sidebar: I really want a dog as well. I take pictures of people’s dogs when I’m out running errands like some creeper.
I have a bias against dogs, and a preference for cats, but I don’t see either one as being more or less valuable. I just find that cats fit more into my personality. Most preferences are benign.
When does likability get in the way? Perhaps in the question of competence.
The Popularity Contest: Likability vs. Competence
In my twenties, I read Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People, because I struggle with so much social anxiety and negative feedback that I was an impossible person to like. This likability factor also influenced my sketchy work history. Since I worked at a lot of jobs where my likability was the primary factor of my success in those fields. For example, in my short stint in the nonprofit world, and my time teaching, my biggest issue was that I wasn’t well received by colleagues or students, and that banned me from any advancement, and often times, got me removed from those positions or from moving into stable employment within the company.
So likability has been pressing on my mind; if others perceived me to be not likable, it served as a real threat, because it meant a loss of something important, whether it be a job, a circle of friends, or various opportunities. Even though I was reasonably competent at my jobs, the biggest issue was being perceived as “weird,” “different,” and “from another planet.” Yes, I’ve received these comments in a professional setting.
My closest guess as to what happened was that I’m quite a private person. Most of my hobbies and interests are very solitary or very niche, and I don’t want to put the expectation on others to have those as common interests because I don’t need them to. But disliking, and at times, avoiding socializing based on a shared interest, means that I won’t come across as being engaged, or approachable.
And often I’ve said the wrong things at the wrong times. While they’ve seemed innocuous to me, I’ve hurt a lot of people’s feelings, annoyed them, and then we have to talk about how weird I am. Hence, why I read that book in my 20s.
I won’t say that likability, and meeting a series of preferences is somehow useless or has no value because it does. Otherwise, why would so many pursue it? Likability is often about popularity contests; one where someone has developed the social skills and grace to craft a very careful and positive image; a certain warmth and wit are required, as well as being personable.
Popularity is imperative in controlling a public image and gathering a following. And in the insta age, we all have to be competent at that.
What popularity doesn’t measure is character. So where does that come from?
The Capability Paradox: Needed or Liked
I’m not the type of person who could put up a post that’ll garner a bunch of likes. In fact, I’m sure I’m not remembered by colleagues in high school; but I am the type of person others reach out to when they need something. Usually not money, but a lending ear, a fresh perspective, and emotional support.
That’s because likability is about a set of preferences, and what’s confusing is when we equate liking something to needing it.
Likability has its value, but it’s really the sparkle behind the substance. Capability, however, is about need.
We need others with good character in our lives, but if they’re deemed unlikable or unpopular, then we’re less likely to value them until a very strong need for them comes up.
Capability is difficult because it’s centered around a lack (so, needing something) as opposed to abundance (so, liking something). It means taking someone even at their scruffiest, but it also represents the safety in the presence of another. It means assessing someone’s vulnerabilities and offering ourselves as opposed to taking from them. But it also reminds others of their weaknesses or deficiencies and can be taken for granted and discarded.
The Preference: To be Needed, or to be Liked, is the Question
In my youth, I thought likability would open all sorts of doors for me, and when I was constantly reminded of how unlikability I was, it reminded me of how not good enough I felt. Now, I see likability as a nice-to-have, rather than a must-have, because it’s not how I’m going to bring value into the world. For those who are likable — I admire you because it requires a lot of smoke and mirrors to convince others that something is how it isn’t. Or something will be what it’s not. And I envy it because many assume there’s more value in being likable than in capability.
It also depends on the person. Like the book I mentioned earlier, it was so valuable that the book (and the author) received lots of awards. So there’s value to someone, just not to me. But the capability is more about providing a need that’s either tangible, or intangible, and that’s what others cannot live without.
So to that I say, be capable. Provide value in the best way for you. Be indispensable to others, because that’s where longevity and character live. And as well, it’s okay to not be liked, and not preferred, because there’s someone or something who will prefer you.
