Nothing makes me cringe quite like people who say they “don’t believe in luck.”
Well, unless it’s those who insist, smugly, that they “make their own.”
Please don’t misunderstand; we can all do things that improve the likelihood of success in our endeavors — or diminish it.
But to deny luck (both good and bad) is to say that everyone ultimately gets what they deserve in life.
And if you believe that, you are saying that billions of people living (and dying) on less than $1 a day somehow deserve their station.
And if you believe that, you’re an asshole.
They were born where they were born, facing the obstacles they face, owing solely to the randomness of life, combined with historical, geopolitical realities that have made some nations richer and others poorer.
And your life has been similarly impacted by random chance and political and economic realities set in motion before you were even born.
But of all these, randomness is the most difficult to face.
At least with the others — like economic policy, racial discrimination, colonialism, and war — we feel some level of agency to influence or actively change them.
But luck typically feels beyond our control. Admitting it plays a role in our lives is scary. Because if your luck has been good up to now, it can always go sideways tomorrow.
I get it. It feels better to hold on to the idea that you are the captain of your own ship than to admit you may be tossed about the waters by happenstance.
But acknowledging luck is essential for two reasons.
First, once we face it, we can be genuinely grateful for whatever we’ve accomplished because we can recognize how easily it might have gone differently. We can let go of unhealthy conceit, hubris, and ego and realize that wherever we are is not all (or even primarily) about us.
Second, admitting the role of luck makes it more likely we’ll be gracious towards others who are struggling. Not just personally, but in the sense of supporting public policy efforts to improve opportunity for everyone.
After all, if we know we could have been them (and they, us), it makes it more difficult to look down on those beneath us on the ladder.
And once we stop judging such persons, it becomes easier to support policies that ensure greater equity.
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Thinking about my own life proves how important luck can be.
For those who don’t know, I’m an author and lecturer who has done anti-racism work for 30-plus years. I’ve written nine books and spoken in all 50 states of the U.S.(and internationally), to over 1500 college campuses, hundreds of conferences, and dozens of companies and community groups.
In my first book, White Like Me, I reflected on how being white had provided me certain systemic advantages having nothing to do with talent and effort. It’s an important truth, and I’ve discussed it openly for three decades.
But another key to my success is luck.
I gained recognition for my activism and ended up on the lecture circuit because I had worked in a very high-profile campaign against neo-Nazi David Duke when he ran for U.S. Senate and Governor of Louisiana in 1990 and ‘91.
But the only reason I had that experience is that I had been offered a job with the main anti-Duke organization by two men I knew. One had been a History professor of mine at Tulane University, and the other was a graduate student there and a friend.
And the only reason I knew them was that I had gone to Tulane. If I had gone anywhere else for college, I wouldn’t have met them and been in a position to get that job.
But the only reason I went to Tulane is that I was chasing a girl — specifically, a young woman who was headed to Louisiana State.
And the only reason I knew her was because we had both been competitive debaters in high school — me in Tennessee and she in Louisiana — and had met at a summer debate camp in Washington D.C.
Although I’d never thought about Tulane — I was planning on going to Emory — I was 17 and blinded by teenage love. So six months later, when Monica said Atlanta was too far from Baton Rouge, I naturally changed my entire life plan to accommodate the relationship.
And although we would break up after freshman year, I’m lucky to have dated her because it put me in the right place at the right time to meet the men who would give me the opportunity that set me on my path.
But there’s more.
The only reason I met Monica was that I had been a debater. And the only reason I became one was that, despite being an excellent baseball player in my youth, I managed to have a horrific tryout for my high school team, after which disaster, I was cut.
Once my baseball dreams died — dreams I’d nurtured since I was 12 and had college recruiters coming around to watch me — I was forced to find a different skill to develop.
Next to breaking a 2-foot curveball, arguing was the only other one I had.
So not only does luck exist, but even bad luck, which getting cut was, can open up new opportunities (thanks, Coach Cantrell!)
Actually, it goes deeper than that.
Now I have a family I love, and that too is essentially about luck.
I met my wife because I moved back to Nashville (where I’m from) in August 1996, and when looking for a place to live, I happened upon an ad in the paper placed by two women looking for a roommate.
I answered the ad, secured the room, and a few months later, was introduced to the woman who became my wife by one of those roommates.
If I hadn’t moved back to Nashville at that precise moment, someone else responds to that ad and gets that room, in which case I’m not likely to meet my wife.
And the only reason I moved when I did is that I had the flexibility to do so. Not tied to a regular job — I was already out lecturing and could do that from anywhere — I was free to make that decision.
So even the moving and meeting my wife was connected to the work I do, which, as we’ve already determined, was tied to luck.
And I know it’s romantic to talk about fate and how my wife and I would have met anyway because it was “meant to be.” And it’s tempting to believe that, especially considering that we had met before, as children, because our parents knew each other.
But to think fate is why we ended up together means fate must rule everything, and that gets us back to those billions of impoverished people I mentioned (whose “fate” must be that?), in which case we’re flirting dangerously with asshole territory again.
No, it wasn’t fate. Despite having met her as a child, I hadn’t seen my wife since we were two. And I had neither remembered nor thought of her since. If I don’t get that room in the house with those two women, I’m not likely to meet her again.
This, in turn, means our amazing daughters don’t exist — because luck is the gift that keeps on giving, even across generations.
***
Bottom line: Luck happens, sometimes good and sometimes bad, and it’s unrelated to our efforts or lack thereof.
Oh sure, we can either take advantage of luck or not — so in that regard, it’s not as if we have no agency in our lives — but without luck, our choices and decisions would be taking place against a very different backdrop of opportunities.
Admitting this and embracing the humility it can afford is vital to building a more decent society. It can keep us from becoming too haughty in our victories or self-loathing in our defeats.
What’s more, it can inspire us to remember that just as we’ve had luck before — the teacher, mentor, or coach who came into our lives at just the right time and believed in us when we didn’t — we can now choose to be the luck for others.
And to work towards creating a society where even when folks have the wrong kind of luck, there are real and substantial safety nets to catch them and lift them back up again.
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This post was previously published on Medium.
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