Presence and Comparison

I postulate that our obsession with comparison distances us from the only authentic way of existing: presence to oneself. This presence is not a passive contemplative state but the sole condition of our real emancipation.

Comparison as a gilded cage

The system of social hierarchization in which we live pervades almost all human communities, with the notable exception of radical anarchist groups. The latter, contrary to popular belief, actually function in a far more egalitarian and harmonious manner. Isabelle Attard, in How I Became an Anarchist (2019), precisely documents these horizontal modes of organization where comparison loses its grip.

But for the vast majority of people, the comparative system conditions our self-image within hierarchies found everywhere: the grade in class, imaginary or real notoriety depending on one’s perspective, physical performance, the number of films watched, the number of books read, the amount of wealth, or whatever one likes. These criteria, which we believe construct our social position, are in fact the bars of a cage we build ourselves.

Does presence to oneself have anything to do with comparison? I maintain that it is its exact opposite. Presence constitutes, in my view, the only way of being, because if we are not present to ourselves—that is, if we are absent from ourselves—our life loses its meaning. Absence from oneself equals a disembodied existence, in which life unfolds without our ever truly inhabiting it.

The essence of presence

Presence represents the very essence of existence, of life itself. On both the spiritual and concrete levels, it determines whether we appreciate what we live, whether we unfold within it, whether we develop within it. Without it, we traverse our existence like ghosts, occupied but never inhabited.

Romain Graziani, in The Use of Emptiness (2019), opens up the central paradox of this presence: the most desirable states—sleep, creative inspiration, the recollection of a forgotten name, for example—only occur on the condition of not being sought. The mere fact of coveting them is enough to put them to flight. This observation, at the heart of Taoist thought, sheds new light on our relationship to presence: it cannot be commanded, it cannot be conquered by an effort of will. On the contrary, it requires what Graziani calls a “patient observation of the body’s dynamics and the different registers of consciousness”. Authentic presence is therefore not a state we could reach by force, but an availability that occurs when we cease trying to grasp it.

The philosopher Laurence Devillairs says that “human beings cannot live without ambition, because it is inherent to any will to act”. I think this observation confuses ambition with presence. What makes us act authentically is not the will to elevate ourselves above others, but the intensity of our presence to what we do.

Comparison, even comparison with oneself, the very idea of self-improvement, remains a hierarchization. It diverts us from presence. Romain Graziani, in The Use of Emptiness, explores this paradox of voluntary action which, poorly elucidated in Western philosophy, stands at the center of Taoist thought. Through the analysis of situations as diverse as sports practice, artistic creation, romantic seduction, or mathematical invention, he demonstrates that all these states elude any attempt to make them happen deliberately. What he calls “emptiness” is not an absence, but a radical opening: a space of availability that allows the unexpected to occur. The Taoist concept of non-action (wu wei) does not mean inaction, but the abandonment of tense, comparative, judgmental will. True presence thus allows us to live in an intention without comparison, creating the conditions for something far greater than ourselves to manifest, something we could never have foreseen or programmed.

The paradox of improvement

If we are not in presence but in comparison, we pass an a priori judgment on things that may occur. We thus completely prevent ourselves from receiving the new—namely, what we have not previously thought. Indeed, comparison and judgment can only exist by the measure of necessarily prior criteria. Thus, they lock us into what we already know.

Graziani demonstrates that this closure results from a fundamental error about the nature of effective action. Western representations of will and power rest on the illusion that we can force what we desire to happen. Yet experience shows the contrary: the more we want to fall asleep, the more sleep eludes us; the more we try to remember a name, the further it recedes; the more we attempt to seduce, the less we succeed. In all these cases, it is precisely our tense will, our comparative intention (to be better, to be more effective, to be more seductive) that blocks the realization of what we seek. Authentic presence therefore requires a renunciation of this tension, an acceptance of not controlling everything. It implies what Graziani calls different registers of consciousness, modes of being where we patiently observe rather than force, where we create conditions rather than seek to command results.

Comparison, while we believe it allows us to elevate ourselves by giving us models to attain, actually closes us off, blocks us, reduces us to our nullity, our incapacity. Why? Because we want to become more capable than we are today. This belief completely blocks us, closes all doors. It denies what we are now in favor of a fantasized future where we would finally be “good enough.”

Presence as true emancipation

Those who truly advance, those who rise in artistic creation, social space, remuneration, felt happiness, or whatever one likes—those who even accomplish what they say they want to accomplish—do not actually achieve this through comparison. Even if they believe that’s how they succeed, careful study shows they only succeed through presence to themselves, of which they are not necessarily fully aware. This presence manifests through openness to the new, to the absolutely unpredictable.

It is precisely this openness to the unpredictable that Graziani identifies as the “emptiness” of Taoist non-action. Emptiness is not a lack, but a space of possibility. When we stop projecting our preestablished criteria onto the future, when we abandon the comparison that dictates what success should be, we enter what Taoists call “doing without forcing” (wu wei).

The errors and illusions of our Western representations of effective action consist in believing that will and power are exercised through the intensity of effort, through tension toward a goal. Yet the true intelligence of action resides in this capacity to remain available, present to what occurs, without seeking to control everything. It is in this non-comparative availability that true discoveries emerge, real creations—those that surprise us ourselves because they exceed what we could have anticipated.

Comparison, the will to evolve based on external criteria—this is precisely what blocks all authentic evolution, what prevents us from truly emancipating ourselves. It is not an external, comparative, reductive, judgmental will that makes us grow. All of that only creates obstacles, contrary to popular belief. What allows us to emancipate ourselves is presence, the discovery of the unknown whose existence we didn’t even suspect—it is putting ourselves in the conditions of this openness.

Embodiment in the present moment

For those who have no comparative ambition, Epicurus offers precious wisdom: “having ambition leads to mortgaging our tranquility. In daily life, eating well, enjoying life, the small pleasures of each day—carpe diem, as he said—that is ultimately the priority for a human being.” This philosophy of the present rejoins my deep conviction.

The place of consciousness of evolution that we can have through our presence exists only in the present moment. Now, here, right now. The choice I make to work more, for example, to continue when I lack confidence and would rather tend to stop. But this is not at all a comparison—it is precisely an inscription in my presence, a leap into the unknown.

This continuity of self manifests through a desire, a decision that I live in the present. Decisions are embodied in the present, never in a hypothetical future or a bygone past. When I choose to continue despite doubt, I do not compare myself to a “better” version of myself that would exist tomorrow. I simply commit, now, to what I feel is right.

Comparative ambition may seem to advance society, but it is individuals’ presence to their work that truly creates the new, that makes humanity progress. Comparative ambition only reproduces what already exists by attempting to surpass it, in a purely quantitative manner.

Presence to oneself is not an absence of intention or contemplative passivity. It is the radical opening to what occurs, the necessary condition for welcoming the unpredictable and the new. By abandoning the comparison that locks us into preestablished criteria, we give ourselves the possibility of discovering dimensions of ourselves and the world that we could never have anticipated. This presence, embodied in each decision of the present moment, constitutes the only authentic path toward emancipation and the unfolding of our existence.