The fat man at the gym
It’s easy to make fun of the fat man at the gym. It’s something innate to human psychology, to put someone down so we can feel better about ourselves. It’s rarely done out loud, because its rude to publicly insult someone, but often these remarks will cross people’s minds without them realizing. Even if the thought isn’t conscious, it’s easy to put the muscled folks lifting weights on a pedestal, and mentally belittle those who are still working on gaining that muscle.
Of course, making fun of the fat man at the gym is a terrible thing; not simply because it’s hurtful and prejudiced, but also because the fat man is working on becoming healthier at the gym. No matter how slovenly his actions, how selfish his rack usage, or how sweaty his bench, he is actively working hard to become a better version of himself. It’s doubly bad because there’s no way he can become fit man without being a fat man at the gym first. Most people with any sense of empathy and two brain cells to rub together know not to make fun of the fat (or skinny) man (or woman) at the gym. For the most part, they don’t even think negatively of them.
This principle is generally well-known among gym-goers and most other people. There is perhaps more encouragement and less fat-shaming at the gym than anywhere else because of this very reason. However, for people who aren’t obviously fat, doing things that aren’t clearly lifting weights, this amount of consideration might not be provided. For any interest or hobby, there is a learning stage. The novice skateboarder skates and ollies before they grind and kickflip. The new cook chops and fries before they julienne and torch. The inexperienced reader reads Bukowski and Murakami before they read real literature. I don’t read real literature yet, so I’ll complete the parallelism when I get there.
In the same spirit as making fun of the fat man at the gym, it’s easy to make fun of these beginners. If a skateboarder attempts an ollie and fails to land it, it’s common for passerby to think that they were trying to show off and were bad at boarding. A cook who fails to catch the contents of their wok after they toss it is seen as adding unnecessary flair to their meal preparation instead of being someone who is working on an important stir-fry technique. A reader who talks incessantly about Salinger past high school is perceived as a poseur and a pseudo-intellectual instead of someone who is just restarting their journey as a reader.
Some might argue that this analogy fails because gym-going is necessarily a public activity, whereas skateboarding, cooking, and reading can be practiced privately. Those who flaunt in view of others are simply asking for judgement and should be open to such. I suggest that most activities are public to an extent, and certainly benefit from a degree of socialization. What is a skater without their community? Can a cook who only cooks for themselves really produce good food? Aren’t the insights derived from debate and discussion myriad compared to those from those atop an ivory tower?
Of course, I would be remiss to deny that people love to posture and to showboat. Differentiating the beginner with genuine questions from the braggart is a subtle art. One differentiator that never fails is intention. Is the trick performed because the skater enjoys the thrill of it? Or is the skater trying to win the attention of the good-looking passerby? Does the cook flambé the snapper because it takes off the fishiness? Or is the chef trying to add flair to an otherwise tired menu? Does the reader bring up a literary reference because it is apropos? Or is the reader trying to daunt others with an apparent wealth of knowledge? Sometimes, the differentiation can be thin. A genuine question can be misconstrued as a humblebrag, a necessary action seen as a flourish.
This presents a challenge. Even more innate to human nature than making fun of the fat man at the gym is finding someone marginally less impressive in any regard, and then utterly crushing them in competition. I can’t dunk, but I imagine it’d be fun to dunk on a similarly-sized rival. Dunking on a someone who doesn’t play much basketball on the other hand, is cruel and unsatisfying. Equally as rewarding is dunking on someone who has a big mouth, but plays a small game. Someone who’s all talk, but whose body can’t cash the checks their mouth is writing. However, if this person doesn’t talk but instead simply dribbles a lot, makes elaborate passes, chucks the ball, and wears high-performance gear, it’s difficult to differentiate if they’re trying to get good at dribbling, passing, and dressing, or showing off.
All these questions lead to the need to distinguish an equal from a braggart from a learner. It’s not always as obvious as the “how do you like’em apples scene”. And the cost is high for someone with any empathy, as well as accidentally discouraging someone from joining their hobby. Perhaps the best approach is to simply be nicer to everyone: to stop one-upmanship, to pay genuine attention to other people’s ideas. If a pretentious jerk is met without resistance, they will continue to condescend until it’s obvious what they are. Instead of competing, seek to learn and elevate everyone’s abilities.
Humans are sensitive creatures. Silence or even lip service aren’t enough if there is a smirk of mockery playing across others’ faces. To welcome newcomers, it’s important to believe that everyone needs to start somewhere, and genuinely encourage those who are trying in good faith. Withhold judgement until someone shows themselves to be an obnoxious showoff, or better yet, reserve judgement entirely. Keep score only when necessary, and display knowledge gracefully, like a lion not concerning themselves with the opinions of sheep.
It’s easy to make fun of the fat man at the gym, but it’s clearly very wrong. It’s easier to dishearten any other beginner doing anything else, equally as damaging, and also easier to do accidentally. So, when discussing someone’s performance or abilities, take a moment to consider whether they’re made in good faith or for a laugh only, whether they’re constructive or vindictive. Remember that everyone starts from somewhere, even though it might not be apparent. It’s okay to dunk on the big talker, but don’t make fun of the fat man at the gym.
