Performing Whiplash

In my senior year of high school, I competed in Forensics. That’s the speech and debate flavor of Forensics, and not the (more interesting) crime investigation of dead bodies. I competed in the category of “storytelling.” I wrote my own stories, which, looking back, were probably my gateway drug to scriptwriting.

That year was a blast. The entire team bonded really well, the coaches were encouraging and focused on fun, and the judges were (mostly) instructive and supportive. I ended up taking first at every meet that year.

Then college hit—and everything changed.

I earned a scholarship to compete, but performance was everything. To keep your scholarship, you had to place consistently. Practices were high-stress, and the coaches were rarely satisfied. One judge’s feedback stuck with me: “Your performance was too silly. It doesn’t look like you’re serious enough to compete at this level.” That year didn’t go well, and before every meet, I would get panicky and nauseous. Eventually, I left the team.

Whether it’s speech or theater, there are a few different climates you can have:

Three Different Climates

The first is the ego climate. Out-performing others and winning is central. It’s highly competitive, and value is placed on your performance. Mistakes aren’t tolerated.

The second is the task climate. Effort, growth, and improvement matter most. Mistakes aren’t failures—they’re part of getting better.

The third is the caring climate. Everyone is valued, regardless of skill level. There’s mutual respect, and the group feels safe—not just because of leadership, but because of how members treat each other.

Climate Change

When there’s a combo of a task/caring climate, people report more positive theater experiences. They work harder because their contributions matter, whether they’re the lead or in the ensemble. They feel less anxiety and more confidence because they’re supported, not judged.

An ego climate, on the other hand, breeds stress. It chips away at confidence and motivation. The pressure doesn’t end when rehearsal does—it follows people home. They replay mistakes, dread the next practice, and slowly lose the joy that brought them there in the first place.

While some highly competitive individuals thrive in that environment, it doesn’t serve the group as a whole. What pushes one person to excel might wear another down. And no production succeeds because of one standout performer—it succeeds because everyone shows up and supports each other.

What You Get With Ego

The movie Whiplash is a quintessential picture of ego climate. Andrew Niemann wants to be the greatest jazz drummer in the world, and he gets into the best music school in the States. Everyone is clawing up the ladder to study under Terence Fletcher and join his studio band. Niemann makes it in, but at the first practice, Fletcher commands Niemann over and over to get his drumming right. But Niemann can’t, so Fletcher throws a chair at him and looks to replace him.

So Niemann practices for hours and hours, until his hands bleed. Throughout the movie, you see him devolve as he focuses solely on his drumming. His romantic relationship slips away, his relationship with his dad dulls, and everything he enjoys in life flatlines as drumming becomes his sole obsession. And he doesn’t even like that anymore.

By the end of the movie, he finally gains Fletcher’s approval, but at the cost of his health, his sanity, and his happiness.

That’s the cost of an ego climate.

You might get moments of brilliance. You might even get excellence. But at what price?

Wouldn’t you rather have a loyal cast who has each other’s backs? Wouldn’t you rather have actors you can get a drink with rather than a restraining order? A true theater experience is not just on stage, but backstage too.