some notes on coveting

I realised this morning, sat on the helpdesk at work, that there has not been one moment in my life where I have not wanted something I don’t have.

Currently, I am dissatisfied with my job and missing teaching. What I yearn for, in my heart, is to return to the classroom - which is funny, because the unbearable workload and pressures of teaching is what made me sign off with stress, and eventually leave the job completely. It doesn’t make sense that I am wanting back what I just recently couldn’t stand.

Since leaving, I’ve grown very familiar with the phrase the grass is always greener; it tends to be thrown in my direction a lot these days. It means we perceive what others have as better than what we have, but generally our judgement is proven to be wrong. I am especially susceptible to this way of thinking: I am inherently cynical of what I do have, and absolutely selfish in what I want; my initial doubts about leaving teaching were over someone else getting to take my job, my title. Even though I couldn’t stand teaching by the end, the feeling of someone else having it, and not me, was far worse.

Societally, we yearn for our lives to be wealthier, more powerful, and more autonomous. We look to celebrities and influencers for templates on which to build our lives; we try to replicate what they have, but never feel fully convinced that we’ve succeeded. I believe this is why trends exist: when it becomes clear to us that the latest TikTok marvel has not perfected our lives, or satisfied our covet, we look to another. The feeling of satisfaction becomes ever more fleeting and so the cycle of trends speeds up; it is self-sustaining.

I think it’s come to be commonly accepted that the feeling and act of wanting is a fundamental part of the human condition. It brings to mind what Hannibal Lecter says in The Silence of the Lambs: “We begin by coveting the things we see everyday.” It is a part of daily existence, an act that is automatic, like breathing.

It only makes sense, then, that gratitude practice is so commonly promoted in the West; we should always be mindful of the things we have. We’re reminded of just how easy and carefree our lives are, compared to those in far-off, removed places, such as in Ukraine or Palestine. I’ve even delivered a session on gratitude practice as a tutor. Our lives are so entrenched in coveting that we have to continuously check ourselves.

“The discipline of suffering, of great suffering … has been the sole cause of every enhancement in humanity so far.”

(Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil trans. Judith Norman, Section 225)

Nietzsche says that essentially, suffering is necessary for humanity to grow and better ourselves. Perhaps this is why we indulge so much in coveting; it keeps us on our toes, keeps us ambitious. I’m reminded of Sisyphus, pushing that boulder up the mountain, just to let it roll back down. By wanting, we are continuously reminded of our imperfections; it humbles us.

It makes me think of every great story; at the heart of it is suffering, and the triumph over suffering. An effective character arc is built on the character’s ability to overcome their suffering; without a cause of pain or hardship, there is no story to tell. Furthermore, the root of the character’s suffering is often wanting something they initially think they can’t have. Because, like Sisyphus, what is life if there is not something to strive for?

Correlating to the covet is the distinct pleasure of negativity. I do a lot of moaning, especially at work; I could be having an objectively good day, but will still fall into complaining about something relatively insignificant, like a task I have to do, or a request that was refused. There is nothing healthy about indulging in negativity, but there is no better feeling than it. We’re drawn to it, like moths to a flame; it is our fuel. That’s not to say we ever want the issue to be rectified; I am often disappointed when a situation is resolved, and I can no longer moan about it.

Of course I’m only speaking from my experience and those I have gotten to know in my life. What’s worth noting is the people I love and surround myself with have similar kinds of lives; we all work public-facing jobs, are from minority groups or disadvantaged backgrounds; we are distinctly affected by worsening pay conditions, a tanking economy and a political landscape that is endangering us more every day. Surely this means we are naturally inclined to complain more.

But perhaps I also need to break out of the echo chamber; maybe the bubble I am in has prevented me from viewing my life from a wider perspective - for all I know, my arc has hardly come close to its peak yet. As I get older, and my circumstances continue to adapt and change, there may come a time when I can rest easy in knowing that my life is good and objectively, I do have everything I could ever want. But until then, it feels nigh on impossible that I will ever feel happy, complete and satisfied.

I’m curious to know the cause of humanity’s impulsion to covet. I look to all the potential causes - the Marxist in me blames capitalism, specifically the concept of the upgrade: the latest iPhone model, the newest pair of trainers. It makes total sense that we should keep wanting things, when capital will always remind us of what is missing from our lives. With the upgrade, capital has found a way to keep us in a perpetual state of dissatisfaction.

I do feel there is something more, though; something that transcends material boundaries; something undefinable in what we long for. I, for one, have always been aware of a feeling that something fundamental is missing from my life, but I’ve never known what that is. Here I am, looking to my working life to try and solve that problem, when really, it could be something far bigger than I am capable of fixing.

In light of what Nietzsche says, perhaps it’s true that suffering keeps us in check; we do our best work when we are suffering. I recently asked my partner what his thoughts are on the meaning of the Sisyphus myth; he said humans will always need work - perhaps not work in the capitalistic sense, but projects, adventures, quests - to feel purposeful. We never truly want to complete the work, or at least if we do, we seek something just as laborious to fill the void.

The same can be said for coveting. The act of coveting keeps us trundling along. I’m tempted to say that it is inherently human to not want to be satisfied with what we have. Maybe it is an internal phenomenon, part of a semiconscious effort for self-improvement that never ceases. Maybe we are inherently selfish, allowing ourselves to be plagued by our desires time and time again. Or, it could be the result of a declining world, making us collectively worse off and longing for something else, though a lack of viable alternative means we are never able to define what that is.

But I’m still not convinced by any of this, and I don’t think I ever will be.

I simply want to end with Camus’ reflections on Sisyphus, who concludes:
“The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart.”