Gold Medal Syndrome

Broadcaster Jim McKay spoke of “the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.” But the agony of victory is also a reality. In a viral video, championship golfer Scottie Scheffler recently said, “You get to number one in the world, and you’re like, ‘What’s the point?’ . . . Is it great to be able to win tournaments and accomplish the things I have? Yeah. But at the end of the day, it’s not fulfilling from the deepest places of your heart.” 

The agony of victory was experienced by NFL Champion Steve Weatherford. He said:  

The night we won the Super Bowl was one of the most depressing nights of my life. . . .  I actually had the greatest game of my life. I couldn’t have performed better. And we won 21-17. But after all the celebrations and parties were over, something came over me. I was sitting in my hotel room and a deep wave of depression came over me. All the early mornings, all the years of hard work, all the sacrifice and I didn’t feel different. 

It is so common for Olympic gold medal winners to suffer depression, anxiety, loneliness, and emptiness after winning that there is even a term for the condition: gold medal syndrome.  

Maybe more success would do the trick, not just in sports but in politics, government, and fame. Abd al-Rahman III, the caliph of Córdoba in tenth-century Spain, wrote, “I have now reigned above 50 years in victory or peace; beloved by my subjects, dreaded by my enemies, and respected by my allies. Riches and honors, power and pleasure, have waited on my call.” Despite his massive success, honors, riches, and pleasure, the caliph continued, “I have diligently numbered the days of pure and genuine happiness which have fallen to my lot. . . . They amount to 14.” 

What explains the fact that victory, even at the highest level, does not bring lasting satisfaction? 

One myth of modernity is that getting what you want will make you happy. Undoubtedly, Olympic champions wanted victory. They underwent taxing training, dietary restrictions, risk of permanent injury, and militaristic regimentation for years. These champions got what they wanted. They got the gold. And yet the arrival of victory did not bring them lasting joy. 

It is not the victors but the vanquished who can continue in the illusion that victory will bring lasting happiness. As Emily Dickinson wrote:

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of victory

As he defeated – dying –
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!

A consolation for the defeated is the hope that if they can just become victorious, then they will have lasting happiness. The victors realize they have been chasing the horizon. 

In his last book Ethics in the Conflicts of Modernity, the late great Alasdair MacIntyre problematizes desire. We don’t always know what we really want, and what we really want may or may not satisfy us. Moreover, even the satisfaction of desire may or may not be actually good for us. René Girard holds that “man is the creature who does not know what to desire, and he turns to others in order to make up his mind. We desire what others desire because we imitate their desires.” What we want—victory, fame, honor—is deeply shaped by what we think other people want. Mimetic desire shapes us. So, contrary to the claims of expressive individualism, what we want is not an expression of a radically autonomous “true self” but rather an echo of our communities. What alternatives are there for the restlessness of human desire? 

Channelling his inner Augustine, the NFL champion Steve Weatherford wrote,

I tried to fill the void inside of me with winning and success but all it did was leave me feeling empty. So let me be the first to warn you. No amount of success or achievement can fill the God-sized hole in you.

The lessons of Augustine’s Confessions can inform any human life, even a champion’s. What we need is not gold but God.