Key Takeaways

  • Parr filters incoming requests for advice with one diagnostic question: “Where are you trying to be in 5 years?” Most founders cannot answer it.
  • Puri uses philosopher C. Thi Nguyen's thesis on games to argue that the game you pick dictates your desires and forces specific character traits on you.
  • In their twenties, Puri and Parr played to become multi-millionaires; in their thirties, they changed the scoreboard to family, personal balance, and sustainable businesses.
  • Toxic comparison occurs when founders measure their success against players who chose a completely different game.

You Become What Your Scoreboard Measures

Parr recently hired an executive coach after catching himself stuck in toxic comparison. He was judging his daily output against people whose businesses and daily routines he did not actually want. Puri pointed to philosopher C. Thi Nguyen's work on games to diagnose why founders trap themselves this way.

Nguyen argues that games take over your motivations. The moment you agree to play, the game selects your temporary goals and conditions your behavior. Puri summarized the mechanism: “If you decide to play a game the game decides what you want and who you need to be to get it.”

If you choose the venture-backed hypergrowth track, that game demands that you raise outside capital, expand headcount, work eighty hours a week, and accept dilution. You cannot play that game while expecting the low-stress schedule of a lifestyle business. The scoreboard dictates your character. Most founders drift into games by accident because they see peers chasing a specific metric, assume that metric equals winning, and adopt it without thinking. As Puri noted: “I don't think most people even are aware of what game they're playing in life.”

Parr noticed this same lack of direction when talking to other entrepreneurs. When peers ask him to brainstorm their problems, he stops them with a single question: "Where are you trying to be in 5 years?" Most founders admit they do not know. Without a target game, every piece of tactical advice is useless.

How to Stop Comparing Yourself to Peers

In their twenties, Parr and Puri had a simple, singular objective. Puri recalled: “When we were in our 20s, what was the game we were trying to play? If we're honest, it was trying to make it. And I think make it meant be a successful person, make money. You know, become a multi-millionaire was, I think, both of our goals.”

Chasing multi-millionaire status gave them clarity. It also demanded ruthless work habits and constant comparison against anyone with a higher net worth. In their thirties, both founders realized that winning that specific game came with diminishing returns. They shifted their focus toward family life, balance, and sustainable businesses that produce cash flow without consuming every waking hour.

Envy creeps back in when you change your goals but keep your old scoreboard. A founder who prioritized family time will see a peer close a massive funding round and instantly feel inadequate. The feeling is irrational because they do not want the eighty-hour work weeks required to sustain that valuation.

Puri outlined the only practical solution: “The only way to cope with it is to do two things. One, get comfortable in the game you're playing that, oh, I'm not playing the game that those guys are playing.” The moment you separate your game from theirs, their wins stop looking like your losses.

What to Do With This

Before taking your next advisory call or setting quarterly targets, write down your exact scoreboard on a single index card. Specify the outcome: a $20M liquidity event, or a thirty-hour work week with a profitable business and family dinners. When you notice envy towards a peer this week, name their game out loud, list the trade-offs they made to play it, and ask if you want their schedule.