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Key points
- The evolutionary urge to pursue status often leads us astray in the modern world.
- Even if a person's pursuit of fame and fortune succeeds, they might not be happy and instead become suspicious and bitter.
- Most people will not achieve a high level of status, fame, or wealth, even if they pursue it, and will need to find contentment in other places.
Beware of what you wish for
“Beware of what you wish for; you might get it” may be the ultimate evolutionary insight. Modern society presents us with tempting but often disappointing options. So, for example, we learn, eventually, ruefully, after chasing it, that “money can’t buy happiness.”
The truth is that humans weren’t designed for either money or happiness. We were designed by evolution to pursue status, but this drive, vital to the survival of our ancestors, often leads us astray in today’s world. Here are a couple of examples.
The "loser"
A friend of mine has a problem with status. He wants some, to be sure, just like everyone else. But he doesn’t like pursuing it in the ways that are most rewarded in our society. He is suspicious of money, and he dislikes hierarchy so much that he has never sought a high position in any organization. He is modest and unwilling to promote himself, so still another avenue to status—fame—has thus far eluded him.
My friend is smart, hard-working, and reliable. In addition, he’s an accomplished artist and a fine musician. He feels that his skills and achievements should be acknowledged, and they are, by his family and friends. But the larger world doesn’t know who he is, which bothers him and makes him bitter at times.
As is well-known, the drive for status antedates the human species by millions of years; it’s deeply embedded in our genes. Status gave our primate ancestors better access to food and gave high-status males and females more opportunities to mate and pass on their genes.
Our hunter-gatherer ancestors didn’t have the status problem my friend has, for the members of a foraging band knew that status was acquired by doing things that benefited the group. In large societies, it’s possible to get lots of status without doing anything to benefit any group. So, many of us feel uneasy about the behavior that does bring people status these days.
A lot of people are like my friend. We can’t help wanting status, but we either can’t or don’t want to compete for it. We know we can’t be sports stars like Lebron James, captains of industry like Jeff Bezos, or the president of the United States, and mostly we don’t want to be. But we wonder what so much status would feel like.
What must it be like to hit the winning 3-pointer at the buzzer and hear the cheers of thousands of fans—for you? We feel smaller and weaker when we contemplate the gap between the status we have and the big time. At other times, we’re glad we’re not in the rat race.
For some people, the conflict between their drive to obtain status and the cultural definitions of high status is profound. They sense that there is an enormous gulf between who they are and who the best people are. They berate themselves for not trying hard enough, or they feel cowardly for not being more ambitious. They give up, or they drive themselves mercilessly.
Others make peace with the status gulf by finding sufficient acknowledgment and recognition in smaller communities, in organizations, clubs, teams, groups of friends, and family. But in our society, even those who get status in smaller communities often feel, on some level, that they’ve settled. In spite of the peace they’ve made, they say to themselves at times, “I coulda been a contender.” And they’re plagued by that niggling uncertainty right into old age.
The “winner”
In today’s world, having status can play nasty tricks on us. Joe DiMaggio’s 1941 hitting streak of 56 games was the longest in baseball history and remains one of the most revered records in sports. DiMaggio had a great career after 1941, and one could say that his streak of fame continued after he retired. He was honored as “baseball’s greatest living player,” and, being a high-status male primate, he got to marry Marilyn Monroe. But his later years demonstrate the perils of living in an environment the human genes weren’t designed to cope with.
According to biographer Richard Ben Cramer in Joe DiMaggio: The Hero’s Life (2000), his money and fame brought him little pleasure. Instead of surrounding himself with friends and admirers, he became increasingly suspicious. He used his presence as currency; if you wanted to be around him, you had to give him stuff or do him favors. He gave nothing in return. He would never pick up the check.
This behavior cut him off from his family and his old friends; Marilyn Monroe, who had her own problems with fame, divorced him. The only people who could tolerate his arrogance were a few hangers-on for whom basking in reflected glory was enough. And he became a miser; he stashed hundreds of thousands of dollars in garbage bags and safe deposit boxes. Fame failed him. Money failed him. He had too much of it all, and he couldn’t handle it.
Beware of what you wish for. If your pursuit of wealth and fame fails, you might end up embittered. If it succeeds, you could end up isolated behind walls built of suspicion and megalomania.
References
Cramer, Richard Ben. (2000). The Hero's Life. New York: Touchstone.
