Incomparable Comparisons The Origins of Conflict?

Gipcy — February 20, 2022

I think we can all agree on one thing: humans actually enjoy a good fight.

This constant search for conflict has already spilled a lot of ink—and it surely will spill much more.

Every topic becomes a battleground.

It’s almost as if peace can’t exist without a proper argument first.

Unable to let others live their lives as they wish, people observe, judge, and criticize—whether their opinion is asked for or not.

Ever since I was old enough to understand adult conversations, I’ve always heard people criticizing each other in one way or another.

In fishing, it’s practically a national sport.

We love criticizing the guy next to us.

It’s like it comes as part of the standard kit: cap, umbrella, and a few cans of beer…

I’m leaning on a cliché here, but as the saying goes, there’s no smoke without fire.

My fish is prettier than yours, so I must be the better angler.

All of these criticisms revolve around one core habit: comparison.

And yet, there’s an old saying: comparison is not reason.

Every comparison has its limits, and if there’s one field where objective comparison is nearly impossible, it’s fishing.

So how can we realistically measure results coming from an equation with so many variables?

Comparing physical performance? Sure, that makes sense—and the existence of countless competitions proves there’s something measurable there.

But when it comes to fishing, I struggle to see the pragmatic side of it.

Fishing competitions have always existed, but at the end of the day, does anyone truly come out as “better” than the others?

Let’s be rational. The winner was better that day—in those specific conditions, on that exact swim, with that particular weather.

The result also includes the mistakes made by others and dozens of other variables we don’t even need to list to understand the point.

Does that make him an undisputed champion? I don’t think so.

What about the guy who, on his lucky day, lands a giant fish in some forgotten bayou?

He caught a record fish. Great. Does that make him an exceptional angler?

So maybe it’s the angler who consistently delivers results across different waters—that must be the “super angler” everyone should admire?

Maybe.

But who says he’s the only one capable of doing that?

Is it the result of personal research, carefully gathered information, or external help?

Once again, too many variables come into play.

Spring 2011: unmatched means for unmatched results.

Different Profiles, Different Approaches

Can a competition angler be compared to a specimen hunter?

Does it make sense to compare a traveling angler to someone fishing locally on familiar waters?

Is a full-time angler truly “better” than someone who fishes occasionally?

Obviously not.

And even comparing anglers with similar profiles quickly becomes meaningless.

Yet at some point, most of us think:

“I’m going to do better than him.”

But that’s simply impossible—because conditions are never identical.

Several anglers have caught this fish. So who’s the best? The one who caught it first? The one who caught the biggest one? In the end, it doesn’t really make any sense.

Today’s Success Hides Tomorrow’s Failures

If there’s one thing fishing teaches me every day, it’s that nothing is ever guaranteed.

Humility should be the stake that supports this wild plant, constantly shifting direction with the sun.

Lose humility, and you risk getting lost—or worse, stopping your progression altogether.

Comparing the incomparable is just a waste of energy—energy that could be used to move forward—and time we can never get back.

I understand that others’ results can spark envy or even jealousy.

But when it turns into an endless competition that justifies a lack of respect or basic decency, that’s where I struggle.

Once again, it all comes down to ego.

The line between self-esteem and egocentrism is so thin that a few extra kilos of fish are enough to make many of us lose balance every year.

The Only Real Opponent

If there’s one opponent you can truly compare yourself to in fishing (aside from the fish), it’s yourself.

That’s the only meaningful comparison over time.

Measuring how you adapt to situations you’ve already encountered gives real insight into your learning and progression.

Catching more fish than the guy next door doesn’t really mean much.

It just feeds theories—often shaky ones—based on how we interpret events.

Sometimes, we witness moments that feel like absolute breakthroughs—those rare times when we think we’ve figured it out.

That’s where the danger lies.

That’s when you should simply enjoy the moment—because sooner or later, that “magic trick” becomes just another option among many.

One thing is certain: this tree couldn’t give a damn about all this bullshit.

Eternal Spectators

Even when we’re active participants, we remain spectators of a new play every time we go fishing.

Sometimes the actors and the setting stay the same—but the script always changes.

That’s what gives fishing its magic as an inexact science.

No matter how much we try to control every variable, the unexpected will always be part of the equation.

So what’s the point in claiming one angler is better than another when it can never truly be proven?

There are anglers with more or less experience, better or worse adaptability, more or less patience, determination, or luck—but no one is objectively “better.”

Everyone sets their own rules.

We all play on the same field, but each of us defines our own game.

That’s why comparing yourself to everyone else only leads to frustration.

No one ever truly wins—because the wheel never stops turning.

Questions That Remain

I keep coming back to the same questions:

What drives this need to compare?

What is our place in society?

Who are we, really?

Where do we stand—and for how long?

Do we live for ourselves, or for the image others have of us?

What’s left of our true motivations?

And most importantly…

Why do I fish?

Never forget the fucking luck factor.

Conclusion

This is only my perspective, but I believe that putting an end to this primitive need for comparison would erase many conflicts and maybe bring back a sense of harmony—something deeply missing in a practice that leans far more toward philosophy... than mathematics.

Soël

In the same vein, you might also enjoy:

• Why Do I Fish? A Carp Fishing Philosophy

  https://www.brakass.com/post/why-do-i-fish-a-carp-fishing-philosophy

  
  

• Cultivating Your Dreams in Carp Fishing

  https://www.brakass.com/post/why-do-i-fish-a-carp-fishing-philosophy