Types of Envy: What Lies Behind Comparing Ourselves

Taras visits a friend’s exhibition and genuinely enjoys the work. But when visitors gather around Danylo and a curator mentions his next project, something tightens inside. Taras looks at a painting receiving praise and catches himself thinking, “Nothing special.” A minute later, he remembers wanting to try a similar approach himself only yesterday. Shame now joins envy, making the evening more complicated than he expected.

In conversation, this can easily be called “good” or “bad” envy. Yet two labels are not enough to understand what happened. Someone can simultaneously want another person’s opportunity, feel painfully overlooked, resent unequal circumstances and remain fond of their friend. The next action depends on which part of the experience becomes clearer.

Everyday descriptions often divide envy by its object: money, appearance, ability, relationships or success. Another distinction concerns the desired outcome: getting closer to what someone else has, or seeing them lose their advantage. These are different questions. The first helps identify what is missing; the second reveals the direction of an impulse.

In research by van de Ven and colleagues, the authors distinguished envy associated with improving one’s own position from envy associated with worsening someone else’s position. This distinction describes differences in experience and motivation. It does not establish someone’s character from one painful evening or make every effort to surpass others beneficial.

At first, Taras thinks the problem is Danylo’s new drawing tablet. He wants the same one. When he starts calculating the cost, he realises that his current tablet handles most of his tasks. Another purchase would bring a pleasant sense of renewal, but would do little to get his work exhibited.

What attracts him is Danylo’s time to develop a personal series while Taras completes small commissions. In this scene, the object has become a visible sign of freedom. A useful clarification is specific: “What could I do if I had this?” The answer may point towards equipment, training, income or a need for several protected hours. The first thing that catches the eye need not be the thing to buy.

Taras recalls the moment when the curator called Danylo’s work distinctive. That was when he wanted to object. Behind his harsh judgement of the painting, a personal wish emerges: to be noticed too, and associated with work he is proud of. A new tablet is not the main condition for that.

This wish may particularly affect someone accustomed to comparisons with a sibling, classmate or “more successful children.” Someone else remembers being held up as the example and fearing that they would stop meeting expectations. Such memories can help explore a present reaction when they are genuinely connected to it. Deriving the same childhood story from every experience of envy would be premature.

Danylo received a grant while Taras was paying for a move and taking on extra work. The difference in resources is real. Acknowledging it does not require proving that his friend lacks talent or is secretly unhappy. Danylo’s success may be deserved while the two people’s starting opportunities remain different.

It helps to separate what is known from what has been added. “He received three months of funding” is a fact. “Everything always comes easily to him” is a conclusion with insufficient evidence. Where a competition lacks transparency or an agreement has been broken, checking the rules and asking the organisers questions makes sense. Simply calming oneself may be insufficient when a specific injustice is involved.

If Taras later feels relief at a negative exhibition review, this can be examined as schadenfreude. It sometimes accompanies envy, but has a different trigger: another person’s setback. Brief relief gives Taras no additional working time and no automatic right to join harassment. This is discussed further in the article on schadenfreude.

Jealousy more often concerns a threat to an important bond: “Will someone else take your attention away from me?” Envy in this scene centres on an opportunity Taras wants for himself. Both experiences can coexist in daily life. A more precise name helps avoid trying to resolve a question about closeness through a purchase, or a lack of professional opportunities through demands for more love.

The next morning, Taras plans to complete a series, find a curator and attract more reviews than Danylo, all within a month. On paper, this looks like motivation. In his calendar, there is no room for sleep or paid commissions. Someone else’s achievement is already setting both the goal and the deadline, although his own circumstances have not disappeared.

In research by Lange and colleagues, the authors challenged the idea that envy aimed at raising oneself is always entirely constructive. In practice, specific actions matter: does the plan include a personal interest, can available resources sustain it, and does it involve harming others? Calling an emotion “good envy” does not answer those questions.

An EQ Emotional Intelligence Journal, or an ordinary notebook, can hold a description of the scene without a verdict on character: what happened, which thought appeared, what the body felt and what action became tempting. Two further questions can be added: what exactly do I want, and which facts about the other person’s opportunities do I actually know?

Taras writes: “Heard the praise. Wanted to belittle my friend’s work. Want people to see my series too.” A manageable step can follow: select six pieces and find out the conditions for one open call. Putting someone else’s page aside for the evening may also help if repeated viewing only deepens the pain. Neither buying a journal nor writing an accurate entry requires the feeling to disappear immediately.

Taras does not know whether his work will be accepted for the next exhibition. He can congratulate Danylo without pretending to admire every detail, while taking his own wish seriously. These actions do not conflict. If he has already hurt his friend or presented an unfounded judgement as fact, explaining his envy does not replace repairing what he has done.

At the next exhibition, that familiar pang may return. There is now a chance to notice earlier what has touched him and avoid spending the whole evening proving someone else undeserving. Attention can return to his own series, available time and next decision. This is more modest than never comparing himself with anyone again, but it is a result he can recognise in daily life.