Why average is more than enough

Thomas Gray said in Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard in praise of the poor and mediocre as against the grandeur and ambition: Let not ambition mock their useful toil/ Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile/The short and simple annals of the poor.

The world is full of mediocrities and also-rans, without whom there are no Olympic competitions, Nobel nominees, university toppers, or Oscar winners. You need the bulk of averages to measure who is on top. Ironical, but a fact of reality.

And the averages are the backbone of civilisation and society. When you spill a bag of beans on the floor, the bulk is at your feet, and a few escape to yonder, which statisticians call Six Sigma. Mean, median, and average reflect the group strength.

And how can society look down upon the averages, who are the bulk of doers, always lost in oblivion in front of the dazzling few. They expect less, are easily satisfied, and are innocently ready to praise the winners. In my own family, amongst the six siblings, one was a stalwart and university topper, the others quietly praising him without jealousy and shouldering the big family as well, not a bit less than him.

You will also see in social, spiritual, and groups of non-government organisations that silent workers are the first to come, last to go, and shy away from taking the centre stage or the mike.

Many world-class universities have dispensed with academic rankings, which put undue pressure on individuals; they instead give enormous credit for social networking and interaction with juniors and fresh entrants.

Eminent writers like R K Narayan and P G Wodehouse chose average characters as heroes, not the ones with superhero powers as you see on the celluloid. The common man is able to identify himself with such ordinary people like Vendor of Sweets by Narayan or the character of Bertram Wooster in Wodehouse.

In 1961 the famous Dr. Mu.Va. wrote a Sahitya Academy-winning book, Agal Vilakku—the clay lamp, which was translated into several languages. The book made an indelible impression on me in my teenage years. It’s about two friends, Chandran the glamorous in every sense, who gained everything and lost all, including life, in contrast to Velaiyyan, less conspicuous, very average even in looks, but helped his friend ever and finally survived, more like a quiet clay lamp that gives enough light but stays longer than a bonfire and may be more useful.