Measure Progress by Effort, Not Comparison
Measure progress by how much you try, not by how you compare. — James Baldwin
Reframing the Meaning of Progress
James Baldwin’s line begins by quietly redefining what “progress” is allowed to mean. Instead of treating growth as a rank on a social ladder, he points to effort as the truest unit of measurement—something personal, internal, and available to anyone regardless of circumstance. With that shift, improvement becomes less about public proof and more about private practice. From there, the quote invites a simpler question: did you show up and stretch your capacity today? By privileging trying over outperforming, Baldwin offers a standard that can survive setbacks, unequal starting points, and seasons when results arrive slowly.
Why Comparison Distorts the Self
Once progress is tied to other people, the mirror becomes warped. Comparison collapses complex realities—different resources, histories, health, and responsibilities—into a single number that pretends to be fair. Baldwin’s warning is implicit: when you compare, you often end up judging yourself by information you don’t actually have. Moreover, comparison doesn’t just make you feel behind; it can also make you chase the wrong goals. Instead of asking what you truly want to build, you start chasing what looks impressive on someone else, and your attention drifts from growth to performance.
Effort as the One Controllable Metric
By contrast, effort is both measurable and within reach. You may not control outcomes—grades, sales, applause, or timing—but you can control whether you practiced, revised, applied, trained, or asked for help. That practical insight echoes psychological research on “mastery orientation,” where learners focus on improving skills rather than proving ability; Carol Dweck’s work on mindsets (e.g., *Mindset*, 2006) describes how process-focused goals support resilience. Because effort is repeatable, it also turns progress into a habit rather than a verdict. Each attempt becomes a deposit in a long-term account, even when the short-term balance doesn’t yet show it.
The Quiet Courage of Trying
Baldwin’s emphasis on trying also honors the emotional cost of growth. To try is to risk failure in public or private, to be imperfect on purpose, and to live with uncertainty long enough to get better. In that sense, effort is not just a strategy but a form of courage—especially for people who have been taught that mistakes are shameful or dangerous. This perspective resonates with Baldwin’s broader moral seriousness: dignity isn’t granted by being superior, but by being honest and persistent in the work of becoming. Trying keeps you in relationship with your own potential, rather than your fear of judgment.
A Practical Way to Track Your Growth
If comparison is a noisy scoreboard, effort is a quieter journal. One useful practice is to record process markers: minutes practiced, drafts completed, outreach attempts, workouts done, or conversations initiated. Over time, these notes reveal a pattern of commitment that a single “win” or “loss” can’t capture. Then, when you do look outward—because learning from others can be valuable—you can treat it as information, not identity. Their path becomes a reference point, while your effort remains the main evidence of progress.
When Community Helps Without Competing
Finally, Baldwin’s idea doesn’t require isolation; it simply asks for a healthier relationship to other people. You can admire someone’s achievement and still measure your own progress by whether you tried with sincerity and consistency. In supportive communities—writers’ groups, athletic teams, study circles—people improve faster not because they are ranked, but because they are witnessed, coached, and encouraged. In the end, the quote offers a stabilizing ethic: let effort be your baseline and integrity your pace. When you do that, progress becomes something you can keep making, even when you are not the fastest person in the room.