About 30 years ago, I cut an article out of a newspaper. Yes, there used to be these things called newspapers—physical sheets of paper with stories and articles printed on them. The ink, often slightly rubbery, would smudge your fingers, leaving behind a scent of mineral spirits or whatever compounds were mixed with it. It was tangible and memorable, a far cry from the digital world we live in today.
That particular article, though now faded from my memory in terms of title and author, remained taped to my desk for years, until the non-archival newsprint yellowed, the ink dried, and it eventually found its way into the trash. Yet, while the article itself has been lost to time, its principle lingers with me still: If we allow ‘average’ to be our goal, then the average will always decline.
In a world governed by percentages, aiming for the mean as our target creates a dangerous dynamic. The mean itself will, over time, represent less and less, because when mediocrity is accepted as a goal, it inevitably leads to a lowering of standards. This idea has permeated how I view many things in life, particularly how I approach scoping for audits, how I interpret school scoring systems, and how I set my personal goals.
This principle has broader societal implications as well. Every generation of the middle class, for example, has found itself slipping further behind the wealthiest. The relentless pursuit of the average has contributed to the rise of a despotic few while pushing a horde of the less fortunate further behind. By setting our sights on mere mediocrity, we inadvertently contribute to widening gaps in wealth and opportunity.
Consider the damage done when we target the average without considering what is truly required. When we say a “C” grade is enough to graduate, when we settle for “Charlie Out” (the term for choosing the most average answer), we encounter the dark side of aiming for mediocrity. This mindset creates a spiral—one where “good enough” is redefined downward, and true excellence becomes a rare aberration rather than an expectation.
In business, this manifests in how we scope for audits. Adversaries do not care about the scope of an audit. They care about vulnerabilities. Yet, too often, we focus on meeting minimum standards, thinking that passing an audit is sufficient protection. Similarly, in education, settling for “average” means we fail to push our students or ourselves to their fullest potential.
The poison of the mean as a goal is that it quietly erodes ambition. When we normalize mediocrity, it becomes the new baseline. The result is not just stagnation but a gradual, inevitable decline. It’s not just a consumption issue; it’s a satisfaction issue—being content with not only “just enough” but “just good enough.” And in doing so, we collectively accept a world that is increasingly less than what it could be.
The consequences are more than theoretical. We see them in everyday life. The success of a few becomes an anomaly, a statistical outlier, while the failures of many are shrugged off as inevitable. We celebrate the exceptions, rather than elevating the baseline.
Someday, I may come across that long-forgotten article again. But the lesson it taught me remains as clear as ever: I set my goals to climb mountains, not to rest idly on their shoulders, content with a mediocre view. Life, work, and ambition are about striving for more, not settling for what is easy or average. True growth comes from pushing beyond the mean, from rejecting the spiral of mediocrity and reaching for something greate