熱意と内巻きを区別できないし、もう区別しようとは思わない

Jiaomen Original, any similarity is purely coincidental

A long time ago I saw people debating what involution is.

At that time a computer novice was distressed about his direction, and a guru immediately stepped in to share his learning experience. The reason the person is called a guru is that his skills are naturally outstanding, and his various experiences are beyond what ordinary people can achieve.

When he spoke passionately, it was a battlefield full of scars, roars, and intertwining blood and fire, and countless netizens listening couldn’t help but feel tears well up.

Another person’s question in that situation was completely out of place: “You’re so competitive, why bother?”
Netizens immediately attacked: “He really loves it, what are you, a monster?” The guru then engaged that person in deep technical discussion, finally silencing him.

I, however, can’t figure out how to distinguish involution from passion in this society. Involution may have become a common consensus, but what about passion?
How do I know whether what drives others is anxiety or love—maybe they themselves aren’t sure either? How can us mere mortals understand the workings of the heart? This question has troubled me for nearly three years.

Today perhaps my spirit is clear, so I write something for fellow members to read and comment on.

What Involution Brings

This paragraph was added haphazardly after I finished the whole text, without solid reference data, purely personal speculation. If there are errors, please correct me, dear members :smile_cat:

We can all see the astonishing involution in today’s society: some former top influencers have now become the norm. Papers, top conferences, open courses, various technologies, projects, algorithms, open‑source experiences, etc., have become the “fashion items” of computer employment.

The development of industry and science fails to improve quality of life; it only cultivates a battery that is one cell stronger than six. People swarm every industry like locusts, leaving no residue behind.

I do not intend to completely deny the hardworking spirit of my peers, but at best that spirit can only be called tragic.

Involution vs. Passion, Is It Necessary to Distinguish?

Imagine you are watching a movie in a theater, and the person in front stands up; then the people behind have to stand up too to see the screen—let’s call that involution.

Do you care about the purpose of the person in front? Whether they love the movie too much or are filming a bootleg for profit, does that relate to your forced standing?

Perhaps passion is a level above forced involution, yet the result is the same. When someone stands up in the name of passion, they forget that they are also involuting others.

I don’t know the standard answer to the question; I only know I still can’t step outside the three realms or the five elements. I know what I’m doing isn’t great, but I’m doing my best, rolling together with everyone, dreaming that one day I can leave and do something meaningful.

Because OP is also part of the involution army, and among those who haven’t succeeded, he dares not face the gurus and can only vent his emotions in the corners of the internet.

He witnessed these tragedies, and as the old man was buried, he buried the last tear of sympathy within himself. Determined to challenge society, he said, “Now let’s duel!” Then he went to dinner with Mrs. Newchin‑Gen.

Cosmic Safety Statement

All of the above is a sour piece I wrote after seeing others’ overwhelming success, without any economic or market foundation, to the point that I don’t even know what I’m writing anymore. Stop laughing, don’t overthink it :face_with_thermometer:

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Knowing what you want is more important than achieving great accomplishments, but the vast majority of people in this world don’t know what they want.

I despise the rat race; I just want to live well, calmly and simply. The graduate recommendation scholarship has little to do with me. I think the so‑called “bai ge” (摆哥) attitude is actually

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The core of involution is a single pattern, and it has nothing to do with whether one strives.
The reference metric should be the risk‑free interest rate level rather than the intensity of striving.

In this era, passion is no different from involution; I hate using passion to conceal the fact of involution.

That sounds a bit too bitter and vengeful… While there’s no easy success, pushing so hard seems likely to leave some negative psychological or personality effects after achieving it. My understanding of passion isn’t like that; it can be tiring, sometimes discouraging or annoying, but overall it should be enjoyable. No one truly likes a battlefield, just as no one truly likes war. If you have to describe your personal effort process as a battlefield, I feel you’re only fond of the glamorous result.

I’ve felt this a bit too, and it doesn’t feel good. More and more people are completing these things, not because they like them, but because they need to—definitely a case of involuntary competition. After all, even a gray‑market for farming GitHub stars has emerged; it’s truly boring.

I think the sentence itself isn’t problematic, but placing it under the topic “people who love what they do also compete against others” isn’t very rigorous. Can work be something fun? If more people consider work enjoyable, the skill level and entry barrier should rise; but if more people derive satisfaction from work, does that also mean more people have found a part of life they pursue?

There are also some analogies, like Copenhagen during the “miracle year” of physics, where competition among peers was extremely fierce. In the same era, Einstein was even “rolled” to the point that he couldn’t find an academic position and ended up as a low‑level clerk at the patent office. Is that involuntary competition? For someone who loves quantum physics, is it better to be born in the miracle year or today? It’s too complex; a few words can’t capture it.

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