Tag: sport

The Wise Tadej Pogačar

Three weeks of watching the Tour from my sofa led me to one conclusion: Tadej Pogačar isn’t just a great cyclist. He’s becoming wise.

The Slovenian cyclist Tadej Pogačar, from the Alpine town of Komenda, has just won his fourth Tour de France out of six participations. In the two others, he finished second. Beyond his remarkable physical and physiological strength, this year he also revealed a new dimension: mental strength. I would argue that Pogačar has become wise.

Some background is helpful. Pogačar won his first Tour at just 21 years old, dramatically defeating fellow Slovenian Primož Roglič in the final time trial. That victory—young, bold, and unexpected—immediately thrust him into the spotlight. He won again the following year, but then lost the Tour in 2022, partly due to overconfidence, partly due to the rise of another extraordinary talent: Jonas Vingegaard. In 2023, an injury disrupted Pogačar’s preparation—a broken wrist—and he suffered another loss. Then, in 2024, he made a comeback. He was 25.

Psychology and Sports Performance

Psychology is a significant factor in determining performance in sports. It shapes how an athlete (and their team) prepare for, respond to, and recover from challenges. This year, Pogačar was mentally tested in new ways. He had to prove once again that he was the best. He lost his most crucial support rider, João Almeida, to a crash before the mountains. Then he was criticized for winning too much—and later, paradoxically, for not winning enough in the third week. “When you win, people start already to think about the next big win, or they say you’re winning too much,” he said. It echoed the Rolling Stones lyric: “You can’t always get what you want.”

Throughout the Tour, Pogačar responded with striking honesty—a rarity in a sporting world where athletes often say nothing or fall back on clichés about “good days” and “bad legs.” In interviews, he was introspective and emotionally open to the point of being vulnerable. This level of introspection is a key factor in his personal growth and is something the audience can relate to.

Early in the race, Pogačar was still his usual self—the young man who fears only one thing: not winning. In Stage 4, in Rouen, he earned his 100th careervictory. In the press room, he described it just like any of his other wins—with the intensity and drama you might expect from a manga hero: “There are so many good riders in the final, you are always a bit on the edge and nervous. You never know what is going to happen, and you never know until the final. Like today, you get this adrenaline and it is pure racing – I really enjoy it” (Cyclingnews).

Then came the Pyrenees. On the first day there, almost by accident, he sealed the Tour. At the foot of Hautacam, according to Carlos Arribas in El Pais, teammate Tim Wellens half-seriously suggested, “What if we do what we did in the Dauphiné and launch you from the bottom?” Another teammate, Jhonny Narváez, took it seriously and launched an attack. Pogačar, caught by surprise, had no choice but to follow—and in a moment of pure serendipity, he discovered that Vingegaard was struggling. The Dane cracked, losing 2 minutes and 14 seconds. Combined with earlier setbacks in the Caen time trial and on the Peyragudes climb, the Tour was effectively decided.

The younger, more aggressive Pogačar briefly reappeared on Peyresourde after his fourth stage win. As he put it in a post-stage interview: “I’m not here to make enemies, but it’s the Tour de France. You cannot just back off. The team pays you to win, not to give away. If there’s an opportunity, you go for it.” He added, “When I finish my career, I probably won’t talk to 99 percent of the peloton anyway. I’ll focus on my close friends and family” (Velo).

Could this be the first sign of wisdom?

Wisdom, Intelligence, and Intuition

Wisdom is not the same as intelligence. A person can be intelligent and still lack wisdom, especially if they use their intellect only to reinforce their own beliefs. True wisdom includes recognizing one’s own limitations—something Pogačar seemed to do during this Tour, while his rival Vingegaard often appeared to be convincing himself. Pogačar became more introspective—not robotically, as in Vingegaard’s stoic “It’s not over”—but in a way that felt alive, spontaneous. As if he were thinking out loud. You get the sense he’s actually reflecting—not performing a role.

Also, wisdom isn’t the same as intuition. It may draw on intuition, but it goes further: it adds critical thinking, emotional elasticity, and moral reflection. It’s a careful weighing—even of things that cannot be easily measured. As cognitive scientist John Vervaeke and others argue, wisdom blends two dimensions: cognitive and moral. It means being able to tolerate uncertainty, to grasp complexity, and to balance emotion with perspective. It involves putting the common good ahead of self-interest, knowing what can and can’t be changed, and remaining flexible—intellectually and emotionally. Above all, wisdom is not theoretical; it results in action.

And that’s what Pogačar did.

With the Tour essentially won, something shifted. He discovered the fear of losing it. A feeling not of youth, but of age. Young athletes—or young people in general—are rarely scared of losing, because they have little to lose. But this acknowledgment changed how he raced. On two stages, he rode defensively. Or wisely.

He showed vulnerability again at the top of the Tourmalet, saying, “At one point, I got pretty scared descending. I could only see Sivakov wrapped in white fog. I couldn’t even see the road” (Cyclingnews). Later, reflecting on what it all meant, he added: “What’s the point of anything? … I built my life around the bike. I met my closest friends and my fiancée through cycling. You just have to enjoy the moment – not just the victories” (L’Équipe).

The confession deepened a week later, after the dreaded Col de la Loze.

“I’ve reached a point where I wonder why I’m still here…” he said aloud. “It’s three very long weeks. You just count the kilometres to Paris, and yes, I can’t wait for it to be over so I can do some other nice stuff in my life as well” (Velo).

Alongside his extraordinary physical and physiological gifts—and a relentless will to train, prepare, and sacrifice—Tadej Pogačar has become wise. Wisdom comes along with doubt and vulnerability that then becomes an existential strength. He places his performance within the context of his life. He asks himself, “How do I want to live?” 

Perhaps, without knowing it, he passes that question on to us—the fans. “How do you want to spend your life?” It makes me recall Annie Dillard, who once wrote: “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives” (The Writing Life).

Wisdom is not necessarily flashy or marketable. It is often quiet, grounded in patience and self-awareness. It culminates in action, not just analysis. And that’s what Pogačar showed: not just brilliance, but balance. Not just ambition, but depth. Becoming wise at 26 adds a philosophical layer to his sporting performance—one that makes it all the more authentic, difficult to beat, but still easy to admire.

First published in Psychology Today.

Sporten rummer muligheden for det umulige

“Dér var den igen. 

Den fornemmelse af, at det utrolige kunne lade sig gøre. At afstanden mellem forventning og forløsning kunne mindskes til ingenting. At utopien kunne glide ned over verden og blive til virkelighed. 

Ja, at drømmene kunne gå i opfyldelse. 

Og dér var den igen. 

Erkendelsen af, at sejren alene eksisterede i vores forestillinger. At ideerne splintrer i mødet med realiteterne, og det, der vækker længslen i så mange, endnu er uden for rækkevidde. 

Det er den type indre bevægelser, som danskerne har kunnet observere i dem selv i denne sportens sommer.

Under et tordenvejr røg det danske herrelandshold ud af Europamesterskabet i fodbold, da Tyskland vandt 2-0 i ottendedelsfinalen. Siden røg tennisstjernen Holger Rune ud ved den legendariske Wimbledon-turnering. Om cykelrytteren Jonas Vingegaard, der to år i træk har vundet Tour de France, også vil lykkes i år, afgøres først endeligt denne søndag. Senere på sommeren skal danske atleter dyste om olympiske medaljer og hæder i Paris. 

Spørgsmålet er, hvad det er, der rejser sig i os, inden virkelighedens kamp udspiller sig. Og hvad er det så for en sandhed, der røbes om danskerne i nederlagets øjeblik? 

Det første er let at svare på, men vanskeligt at formulere, mener sportsfilosof Finn Janning, der er forfatter og ph.d. i filosofi fra CBS. Sporten rummer muligheden for det usandsynlige, der går imod alle realistiske betragtninger. På den måde er der plads til de irrationelle følelser og håb, der ellers ikke levnes meget rum i det moderne samfund. 

Samtidig findes der også ofte en længsel i forventningen, mener Finn Janning. 

“Den hårde dom er, at vi mangler noget. Noget meningsfuldt, som vi mærker i fællesskabet. Måske det at give én, man ikke kender et knus. Og så længes vi efter at se lidt af det samme, som vi har set før eller hørt om fra andre. I så høj grad, at det kan opleves som en slags kosmisk orden, der alene kommer i balance, hvis Danmark vinder,” siger han. 

Forestillingen om sejren kan være utopisk og naiv, mener han. Men det er også i den, drømmen, at sporten overhovedet finder sin bestemmelse, i tilskuernes begejstring og skuffelse, og det ville være et nådesstød at være det foruden, understreger han. 

Forklaringen er simpel, forklarer Finn Janning: 

“Uden troen på det næsten umulige, ville det ganske enkelt blive for kedeligt at se sport.”

Når drømmen så ofte knuses under præstationerne af mægtigere sportsnationer, er det ikke kun et nederlag på banen, men også et angreb mod den enkeltes forestillinger om sig selv. Det sætter sig i kødet, siger Finn Janning. Nogle bliver mere aggressive, og ifølge statistikker er der mere vold efter et nederlag, forklarer han.” 

Skrevet af journalist Tobias Bondolo, bragt i Kristeligt Dagblad den 20. juli, 2024

Sport & What Makes a Life Worth Living

Sport is a fertile field for talking about what makes a life worth living.

For example, is a meaningful life also a valuable life? Or is it not rather that a meaningful life presupposes a distinction between more or less valuable ways of spending one’s time?

In his book This Life, the philosopher Martin Hägglund argues that the only thing we humans really have at our disposal is time. Our use of it gives rise to meaning. Those who spend a lot of time on sports, either as athletes, fans, or in connection with work, will no doubt find an abundance of different things meaningful in this regard. But often, people with no interest in sports will think or say that these “crazy sports people” are wasting their time, meaning, they are wasting their lives.

However, I believe that they overlook the fact that a good life is not so much about meaning as it is about value. There is not necessarily a normative element associated with something meaningful. Opinions depend on the desires of the individual, while the normative element is associated with what is valuable.

It is clear that there can be a coincidence between something meaningful and something valuable, but existentially, it is not about living meaningfully versus meaninglessly. Meaningful activities require some degree of autonomy, self-expression, and purpose, but such activities are not necessarily compassionate, generous, or loving.

Meaning is created. For example, by being a part of something, or establishing a relationship with something, meaning arises for the individual in regard to that. And the meaningful becomes valuable in itself is when that from which the meaning and value arises is not the egoistic self, i.e. “me”. A life gains meaning and value by connecting with others or something other than oneself.

I think a lot of people look to sports because they want to be a part of something meaningful, whether it is togetherness, joy, commitment, self-expression, competition, playfulness, etc. This search is both commendable and understandable, as it sometimes gives the individual insight into what really gives life value, that is, what makes life worth living.

In the world of sports, it is rarely the rigid division between winners and losers that is crucial, but the joy of being involved —as a player, fan, or researcher.

In addition, sports also cultivate our capacity to pay attention. For example, this can happen when a cyclist has to be vigilant so as not to crash, or when football fans are so deeply engrossed in a match, with such intensity and passion, that what happens to the players almost happens to them, too. Often, there is an immediate empathic response to the athletes’ suffering and joy—a recent example is when the Danish football player Cristian Eriksen suffered a cardiac arrest and 9 months later, returned.

What makes sport not only meaningful, but valuable is the fact that a game can never be played without the participation of others. We learn what is valuable from being a part of something bigger, than ourselves.

Finn Janning, PhD, is a philosopher who teaches in Sport Ethics, Sport Psychology and Sport Coaching at Geneva Business School and UIBS in Barcelona, Spain.

First published in The Sport Digest.

Unikt essay om filosofi og sport

Så er lektørudtalelsen kommet for Opmærksomhedens filosofi, der står blandt andet:

“Fremragende tankeprovokerende essay, som suverænt kobler sportens verden til filosofiens verden på en ny og forfriskende måde.”

“Helt unikt essay om filosofi og sport. Et filosofisk blik på fodbold finder du også her. Hvad vi tænker på når vi tænker på fodbold.”

“Guf for dig som er til livsfilosofiske bøger”

Du kan læse hele udtalelsen her.

Sportsfilosofi

Sportsfilosofi – når filosofi bliver en sport

Kære potentielle læser

Velkommen til Sportsfilosofi – et laboratorium om sporten i filosofien og filosofien i sporten.

Filosofien besidder en kærlig eller venskabelig tilgang til visdom. Dette kommer til udtryk i måden hvorpå filosofien bekymrer sig om, undersøger, udforsker, gransker og eksperimenterer med alle facetter af livet, idet livets visdom er en integreret del af verden. 

Filosofi er en kærlighedsaffære med livet – i al dets spraglede rigdom.

Sporten, der oprindeligt betyder “adspredelse”, “distraktion” eller “tidsfordriv” er en oplagt arena for filosofiske refleksioner, kritiske tanker og argumentation. Ikke kun fordi sporten er en del af verden på samme måde, som litteratur, politik og økonomi er det. Snarere fordi, at de få gange et menneske virkelig tænker, eller får en såkaldt “lys ide”, ødsler vedkommende gerne med sin tid. Det vil sige, at vedkommende er distraheret med hensyn til dagligdagens mange strategiske og opportunistiske gøremål. 

Det er klart, at sport også handler om konkurrence, ligesom sporten i stigende grad er blevet kapitaliseret. En vare. Ikke desto mindre er det sportens legende element, der fascinerer mig. Det er min klare overbevisning, at legen er frigørende, fordi den er et mål i sig selv. Modsat arbejde, der altid er et middel til noget andet: status, prestige, magt, rigdom. 

Sporten besidder altså en modstand, som kan være eksistentielt frigørende. 

Sportsfilosofi er for alle, der er interesseret i sport, men som gerne vil perspektivere, nuancere, kritisere eller erkende mere af dette bemærkelsesværdige fænomen: Sport. 

Eller Sportsfilosofi er for alle dem, der søger en mere sporty tilgang til filosofien. 

Sportsfilosofi har reelt været på banen længe, men tog sin form i forbindelse med coronakrisen. Det er ideen, at indlæggene vil udkomme relativt struktureret, hvilket vil sige med et indlæg cirka hver anden eller tredje uge. Om der er tale om et COVID19-projekt, hvilket vil sige, hvorvidt jeg lukker ned, når samfundet lukker op, er endnu uvist. 

Tænk med her!

Mind Games

For some, sports is a field with very little on the mind. For others, it’s completely different.

Annie Vernon, a former Olympic rower and now a sports journalist, has written a book about what takes place between the ears of elite athletes. Called Mind Games, it has a clear premise: “Everyone has the physical tools—it’s the mental tools that separate the good from the great.” 

The book is not a practical guide on how to train or toughen your mind, nor is it an academic contribution to the field of sport psychology. Instead, it is like being inside a locker room, full of anecdotes from professional athletes, coaches, and sports psychologists. The book’s methods resemble William S. Burroughs’s cut-up technique, in which the author cut up stories and interviews. But unlike Burroughs, Vernon arranges them in order. 

Readers get access to experiences and reflections from triathletes, rowers, boxers, football players, etc., whose comments are often put into perspective by sports psychologists. 

Mind Games is a book aimed at other athletes, or perhaps people who are new to the field of sport psychology. The book’s writing style is both personal and jovial. For instance, the author is funny and self-ironic, especially in her self-referential footnotes. This can be appealing or the opposite, depending on the reader. Personally, I felt that it took out some of the intensity from the ideas’ presentation; I was in the locker room with all of these amazing athletes but without the sweat and nerves. 

 The book can also be read as a collage of locker room idioms such as “You’re either that person who wants to be best or you’re not. You’re either a chicken or a pig”—“In sport there is no hidden places”—“Being prepared is the best psychological weapon you can have.” 

Vernon succeeds in showing the relevance of these expressions while also stressing, several times, that there is no one way to play the mind game. It depends on your personality. 

Still, since “our mind dominates our body,” what matters is how you move from being involved in your sport to being committed. The thread throughout Vernon’s organization of these personal stories goes something like this: Many athletes have a clear experience of when “the penny’s got the drop,” and they just know when this is it. That is, this is where they move from being involved to being committed. Like a love affair. 

Another common characteristic for athletes—the thing that probably helps the penny to drop—is their competitiveness. Some are competitive in all aspects of life, while some only when it comes to performing in their desired discipline. However, most are competitive in all aspects, even when playing Trivial Pursuit. This drive to win is also what sets the less committed apart from those who are (see also my essay Lance Armstrong as Teacher on will, strength, performance enhancing drugs and ethics).

The really committed also know how to say no to other activities. They know how to stay focused. They know this because they are both intrinsically and extrinsically motivated. That is, they compete with themselves and against others. A lovely quote from the book says: “Of course it’s amazing to be the favorite. Because it means you’re better than anyone else to date.” 

Vernon suggests that elite athletes are a little odd. They have to live like monks: accepting many boring routines, keeping their minds inclined toward positivity even when there are setbacks, and being mindful and self-aware. “Becoming good at learning how to do the process comes from years of reflection and self-awareness,” she writes.

 Lastly, one of the great mental challenges is how to gain confidence. Training is one way: practice, practice, practice. As Vernon writes: “The kind of people who become elite athletes will have a world-class work ethic.” Another element is a positive mind that is capable of boosting yourself up, almost to the level of self-deception, and always seeing problems as fixable challenges. 

All of these steps lead to a greater likelihood of performance excellence, when one has to perform. 

If you’re new to the field of coaching or sport psychology, the book can be read as a light buffet of ideas. And if you’re an ambitious athlete, you will probably find it inspiring.  

Finn Janning, PhD, philosopher and writer. The review was first published in Metapsychology, Volume 23, Issue 29.

Om Den gavmilde digter

Der har været lidt, men meget positiv omtale af Den gavmilde digter.

Bibliotekernes lektørudtalelse skriver, at “Finn Janning skriver utrolig godt, finurligt og nærværende om det at leve og livsvalg.” Læs mere her

På Litteratursiden.dk kan man læse, at bogen er “indsigtsfuld, uddybende, klog og munter – og det er meget givende både i forhold til Leth som til tilværelsen selv at følges det stykke vej med Janning. En original og givende indgang til Jørgen Leth. Afgjort et godt sted at starte.” Læs mere her.

Bogsyn.dk skriver: “Det er en helt særlig bog, et essay om en gavmild digter, som lærer os at smage på det enorme udbud, vi har foran os af alting … Et fremragende værk.” Læs mere her.

Den gavmilde digter kan også fås som e-bog og (snart) lydbog. Se mere her.

God læselyst.

VM i moral

Jeg har skrevet en kronik. Den fortæller nogle af de moralske historier, som VM i fodbold er fuld af. Læs mere her.

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