What Good are Numbers?

The world revolves around numbers. The whole purpose of something so simple is to quantify progress, determine outcomes, and assign value to nearly every aspect of life. Without numbers, the world would lose every ounce of structure it ever had, therefore, numbers are important in every way possible. Numbers are treated as essential, reasonably so. I would like to disagree, yet I do not think I can.

From a young age, numbers are taught as a form of order. Children are taught to follow an expected basic schedule: wake up at a certain time, brush teeth at a certain time, eat at a certain time, and so on. Time and numbers, numbers build time. Soon after, school reinforces the dependence on numbers. First grade hits, you learn basic math, learn how to read a clock, and you get the first sweet taste of a perfect report card. Numbers now not only depict your schedule, but also your worth.

I once succeeded, considered the best-of-the-best, my report cards outshined my brother, I was the smart one. I would solve these numbers by myself only to get more numbers in return, an endless cycle of dependency. I could be left alone to do my own work, no help or attention, because my number determined I could be a successful child unworthy of attention, help, and support. My performance and numbers created an assumption: that I was capable on my own, that I did not need support. The numbers not only reflected my ability, they dictated how I was treated.

The numbers only continue to grow in complexity, importance, and the value it imposes on you. By eighth grade my numbers began to fail me (and I them), ironically in math. A predictable response: more tutoring, more work, more raising the numbers, less of adults realizing the real problem. The disgust and shame and the number that depicted me altered by perspective on myself. As the numbers consumed me, I consumed less of the numbers. Constant stares down below, looking at my own numbers. These numbers are better than trying to control the numbers on a piece of paper, I want to determine my own importance. I will be more than happy to see both numbers decrease if it means that I feel better. The not-so-little-girl still has been deemed worthy of no support, she is still “the smart one”, even if the numbers on the papers failed her as did those around her.

However, the world cannot exist without numbers. Time is needed, a quantitative measurement of progress is needed, certainly math is needed. I still cannot see the value given to them. I certainly cannot see the value of them placed onto young individuals. There has to be a depiction of value, but value is depicted by numbers. A failure is not wanted in the medical field, a doctor must have been of a high number and be good with numbers. It is a requirement for success to be good with numbers. I suppose where the numbers begin is where the downfall begins. Inevitably everyone is going to have some running in with the absurdity that is numbers. Afterall, they are something simply created, expressed with some simple lines 1, 2, 3, 4, …

I still can’t help but see the importance anymore, at least most of the time. Occasionally the overconsuming thoughts cloud my wandering mind and I retreat to the ways of the number obsessed little girl. It may not have been a long time since those compulsive ways of looking at numbers, but the numbers don't seem so bad anymore. My report card may not have been what it was in first grade, but I still succeeded in my own way. In a couple months, 125 days, I will be off to college. Numbers will lead me there, follow me there, surround me there, but I will be ok. The value of numbers, although they are values, are not of high value to me. Those simple lines inherently have no meaning, and rather than looking down, I would rather look up and pursue my goals (although I need “high” numbers).

At this point (694 words) I have come to the conclusion that there is none. Oh well. But seriously, what good are numbers? :/