Acting Man vs. Spectating Man

At the end of Lesson III: Goals and Dreams, U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt is quoted at length:

It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.

Criticism is something which must be confronted and tolerated by anyone who would do—perhaps—anything. As the saying goes “if you're not being criticized, you're probably not doing anything.”

If you have ever observed something as a spectator and then, been able to participate first hand in what you were spectating, you know full well that it is far easier to “point out how the strong man stumbles” or “where the doer of deeds could have done better” than to be the “man who is actually in the arena.”

Things are easier said than done. But it is only through doing (acting) that things may actually be accomplished.

If you have ever striven “valiantly,” or came “up short again and again,” you know full well that there is “no effort without error or shortcoming.” For all action holds the possibility of wrong action, but let this not discourage you, for all wrong action holds the possibility of right action, and through such a process you will learn and grow and come to know the “great enthusiasms,” and the “great devotions,” and spend yourself for a “worthy cause.” “In the end,” knowing the “triumph of high achievement,” and if not, never being with those “cold and timid” souls who knew neither “victory nor defeat.”

It is easy to come to believe that “winning” is the point. But it is through the process of wanting to win, through the process of striving, that we learn the most—whether or not we attain the “triumph of high achievement.” For this reason, it is not the “critic who counts,” but the “man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood.”