Good game

Why sore losers never think they are sore losers

I played sports when I was a kid, and we were taught that no matter how badly we lost, we needed to show good sportsmanship and congratulate the girls on the opposing team after the game. Low fives, the defeated team in a line snaking next to the winners going the opposite direction. “Good game” we would say over and over, “good game.”

Often we didn’t mean it at all. But we did it, slapping an open palm with the muttered “good game” to the girl who elbowed us in the back under the basket or slide tackled us in front of the soccer goal. I might have all sorts of feelings later when I peeled off my shin guards after a stint on defense and saw the deep bruises mottling my legs. But I would still say good game to the teenager who painted my legs with those injuries.

There have always been sore losers, which is why the phrase sore loser feels outdated. But there’s an edge to it now which feels new, more virulent. It’s not just in politics, I see it at work, in personal lives and community. Losing is more often seen as a personal attack, a violation, a kind of erasure that threatens at an existential level. “Win some, lose some” has been replaced by “give me victory or give me death” – as if the denial of victory is a kind of annihilation.

As I’ve written about before, being in community is touted as the antidote to the political maelstrom in which we live, which is partly true. The other part we don’t always name is even the most positive, intentional, spiritually focused communities are impacted by culture. Which means the sore losers, the outraged, the conspiracy theorists, the professionally aggrieved, show up in bowling leagues, Bible studies and book clubs too.

And there are some sore fucking losers out there.

Any regular gathering of people has group agreements. And the group agreements, formal or informal, address how decisions are made. A book club may take an informal poll to decide the next selection to read, with the majority vote deciding the upcoming book. The Bible study topics may be decided by a pastor. A community group may use Robert’s Rules of Order in a more structured process to decide what political action they are going to take.

Whatever the approach, there will be times when members do not get their way. Conflict may arise, pushing against the group agreements. Heated debate may fray nerves or bring new insight and strength to the group as they work through difficult topics. Or maybe nerves are frayed at the same time the group gets stronger by learning how to harness the creative power of disagreement.

Ideally, any group, whether it’s a parent group at school or a work team, can learn from the conflict. Hopefully, the people who did not get their way will metabolize their frustration or disappointment and move on. They will lose gracefully.

Unless they don’t. When you are faced with a sore loser, what can you do?

How to spot a sore loser

Here’s a clue. Sore losers never think they are sore losers. In their story, they alone know what is best for the organization. They are the only ones who see the truth, or the future, or whatever they think they are seeing that the rest of the group is missing. The ones who say they are fighting for a principle are often the hardest to deal with, even if the principle is clearly just an excuse for them to let their ego run the show.

This happens on both sides of the political aisle. Trump voters cry foul when they are challenged in their beliefs, often citing conspiracies, but so-called progressives can be just as shrill and destructive when they are thwarted. Both will stand on principle and say they are on the side of right vs wrong, good vs bad. Implicit in this approach is their assumption that there are clear cut binaries and that they are the sole arbiters of right and wrong.

Often, sore losers have lots of privilege and are not used to hearing no. And they don’t want to admit they have privilege, so they wrap themselves in the banner of victim. Frequently, they know this, and it makes them even more defensive, especially if anyone points out their privilege in discussion of the matter at hand.

Sore losers are often emotionally immature and have difficulty processing their emotions. Whether because of unexamined trauma, mental illness or just lack of skill, they are unaware of their impact on others and have unrealistic expectations of the people around them. They can’t hear no.

The recognized list of third rail topics like religion and politics has expanded. Any issue that deals, however tangentially, with diversity, gender, gender identity and welcoming is now fraught. But so are issues about money, employment and financial security. Often people have their own anxieties or fears around these issues. If they don’t do their own work on those fears they are more likely to project them into group dynamics. The fight about is not about the surface issue, and usually an eruption of deeper fears.

One volunteer organization I was part of had an ongoing fight about reimbursing group members for necessary travel. The affluent white members thought we shouldn’t reimburse anyone for mileage so more money could go to the group’s work. Other members argued that people with less money would be unable to participate in the work of the group if they were not reimbursed, and if we wanted a more economically diverse community, we should offer subsidies, so group activities were available to all. A huge battle ensued. I’ve seen this dynamic multiple times.

Apparently, if you point out to rich people that not everyone is rich they act like you just burned their house to the ground.

Leaders who are seen as the ones who brought about the loss are often vilified. Even if they are not responsible for it. Which can be a bummer if you’re the coordinator of the book club, but a sore loser sees you as the destroyer of the social fabric because you sent out the email about a book recommendation the loser voted against.

How to deal with sore losers

Sore losers aren’t going to listen to reason. I generally try to set any necessary boundaries and disengage as quickly as possible. If you are in a group that uses any kind of majority vote, you can lean on the vote. “I understand you are disappointed with the outcome but the vote was 6 for and 7 against, which means it did not pass.”

A boundary might be to end a conversation, or clarify the next opportunity to discuss the topic. “Since the vote decided the matter I’m not going to continue to engage with you about it, but if you are still concerned you can bring it up in our quarterly planning meeting in April.”

Often, sore losers are bullies. Don’t get sucked in. Threats to go over your head, general insults to you as a leader or community member, threats to quit the organization and take others along may be bandied about, but if you followed the group agreements on making a decision, you should let the sore loser do whatever they want.

Otherwise, you are teaching sore losers that they can use threats to get their way, even if it runs counter to the group decision making agreements. And any organization is better off without sore losers, who are often difficult in other ways even when they don’t lose.

How can we be good losers?

What if we are the one who loses? Feel the fuck out of your feelings, but metabolize them outside of the group. I hate losing, and I’ve felt bitterly disappointed when my opinion or idea or initiative didn’t carry the day. The key is to process your bitterness in the appropriate place – which is not the workplace or community where you lost. It is with your friends, family, therapist or on a long run or in scrawled journal pages.

Tell yourself you might be right and time will tell. Then let time pass. I have fought for a principle, stood up for what I believed was right, or tried to influence a decision based on my considerable experience. And still I’ve lost.

Often, as time passed, I was proven correct. Especially in business matters, many of the dire warnings I gave which were disregarded came true in the end. The thing I said would happen actually did happen and those companies don’t exist anymore. Business karma is a bitch, and it is deeply satisfying to me to know I was right and they were wrong. I can’t tell anyone I told you so, but it feels good to be right nonetheless.

Humility helps.

There have also been plenty of times where I lost and it turned out well in the end. I was, in fact, wrong. Keeping that in mind helps. This is especially useful in communities where we gather with some kind of intention. I try to hope that our shared intentions can manifest in a collective wisdom over time. I have seen that happen.

I try to remember why we are gathered. If you’re part of an organization trying to save endangered bird habitats and you burn up hours of the group’s time fighting over a motion that you disagreed with that passed anyway, those are hours, time and energy sucked into infighting and not focused on the birds you are trying to help.

When I lose, I try to give myself time to process the feelings, and avoid any sudden movements. No emails, texts, or group level harangues. I try to present an equanimity I often lack, just as I would still slap the palm of the girls who beat me up on the soccer field and then go home and check out the bruises.

And yes, this is inspired by real life events. I spent way too much time this weekend dealing with a sore loser and the communal brouhaha that ensued. I restated the obvious: this was the vote and your side lost. I set boundaries: we’re done with this discussion; you can bring it up again in our next gathering according to the group agreements.

The response was more rage, more accusations and lots of trash talked about me, even though the decision was not mine. Which is a drag. Especially in a volunteer organization. I don’t get paid for this shit.

Which is, ultimately, what I keep in mind when I lose. Who do I want to be? The sore loser who yells at other volunteers because I didn’t get my way and burns up limited time and energy? Or the one who steps back graciously, accepts defeat, processes their emotions appropriately and walks towards the winner in the spirit of sportsmanship and says, again, good game. Good game.