Earlier I had written about rooting for the underdog, an American tradition that goes back to when the underdog colonists defeated the mighty British.  My point was that however much sympathy the underdog might engender in neutral observers, that alone does not entitle him to victory.

More often than not, the strong are strong and the weak are weak because they deserve to be.  Some members of a species are stronger than others.  This is unavoidable and probably necessary and desirable for life to flourish.  Whether it is unfair is a matter for philosophers and theologians, but an arbitrary presumption of unfairness motivates leftist political ideologues, officious humanitarians, and crusading journalists.  Admittedly there is something romantic about the weak beating the strong, even if the strong are benevolent and not bullies.  (To the Left, this is an oxymoron except in the one case that is an oxymoron to the Right, namely, when the government is strong.)

In golf, a handicap system is institutionalized in the rules, so that weaker players can have a sporting chance against stronger players.  But at the professional level and in other situations, like war, where "it's not just a game" and the stakes are significant, a handicap system is nonsensical.  Particularly in a struggle for survival, it is immoral for the stronger side to handicap itself in favor of a weaker opponent, because to do so arbitrarily causes human death for sport.  Since the days of the war in Vietnam, the toll of unnecessary deaths has mounted unconscionably because the United States fights with one hand tied behind its back.  This is not sporting, it's immoral and suicidal.  Those who favor the weaker over the stronger as a matter of course are the same people who incongruously, though enthusiastically and even blindly, embrace Darwinism even though one of Darwin's central tenets is that life depends on the survival of the fittest (strongest).  It's good for a society to look after its weakest members, but unless the strongest prevail to form the society, the weak will have no one to look after them.

When people participate in games, sports, wars, or contests of any kind where they have something of value at stake, e.g., their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor, they prefer such contests to be lopsided in their favor. Stakeholders can tolerate some uncertainty as long as they win.  Non-stakeholders will take interest if and only if the contest is entertaining.   Except in the sport of women's beach volleyball, uncertainty of outcome is the most important quality that attracts the attention of the otherwise disinterested and uninterested.  Close contests are simply more interesting than lopsided ones.  This is why well written novels compel readers to keep turning the pages to find out what happens next—and why people don't like it when the ending is "spoiled" by being revealed too early.

This is also why people who have no interest in football will stay tuned to the Super Bowl between commercials:  The pitting of the two strongest contenders usually makes the outcome uncertain and, therefore, potentially more entertaining than usual.  With money and a championship at stake for the players, their level of performance is usually inspired to higher levels of artistry anyway, but the commercial sponsors of the Super Bowl (or the World Series or the NBA finals) spend millions of dollars specifically to promote how closely the teams are matched (even if they're not, thus increasing the perception of uncertainty of the outcome) to attract as many viewers as possible.

One might say, so what?  As hinted above, promoting uncertainty has become an important business tactic of the mainstream media, and this has profound cultural consequences, which I will discuss next time.