John Lennon is Dead

As the 35th anniversary of John Lennon's death approaches, I thought I would post something I wrote in the days after his shooting:

John Lennon is Dead

That the death of John Lennon would first reach my ears through the rasping medium of a Howard Cosell monologue is a droll footnote to a sad tale. I don't know why I was watching Monday Night Football. It was one of those evenings that shatter one's pretensions of self-discipline and purpose.  I had probably contemplated reading a good book but ended up giving in to the addiction of my youth.

It was the week before final exams, and Boston had grown very cold and subdued.  The initial gaiety of the post-Thanksgiving preparations for Christmas had already subsided and the city was caught in that funny period between the two holidays.  No matter how hard the merchants and admen try, they cannot obliterate that dead zone in early December.

But Monday Night Football was impervious to the subtleties of the season, and Howard and Dandy Don Meredith were still in their heyday.  When the announcement was made, it reached millions of people and its stunning effect swept across the country.

My first reaction was shock.  Assassination was not an end I could imagine for John Lennon.   Rock stars had not fared well in the 70's, but they generally died from drug overdoses and motorcycle accidents, which were more like a professional hazard.  Being stalked and gunned down by an assassin cast Lennon's death in a very different light.

The initial shock began to transform itself into focused emotions, the most striking of which was a deep aching melancholy. I began to phone friends, passing the grim news and sharing memories of a youth that seemed suddenly to have ended.

My earliest associations with music centered around the Beatles.  In 1964 I was ten years old.  My sister was an authentic screaming-teen-beatlemaniac. Every day after school she would drag me down into our basement and we would play Beatle 45s until Mom yelled down that it was time for dinner.

Sometimes we would dance and she would show me the latest moves - the monkey, the jerk, the watusi. And always we would memorize, song after song, verse upon verse.  I can still sing along with scores of Beatle songs, rarely missing a word.

After the Beatles' conquest of the U.S., I left the tutelage of my sister and forged my own relationship with the Fab Four. In school I was a recognized Beatle expert. I led the Beatles songs in the bus on field trips. Three friends and I joined together as a pretend Beatles group, and the girls in our class were willing to pretend right along with us, so powerful was the elixir of Beatlemania.

By the end of 1965 the album Rubber Soul had come, and with it a transition out of the cuteness and innocence of their early image.  I was horrified by their longer and disheveled hair and the unabashed display of smoking on the album cover.  But the new sound in their music enchanted me and soon I was growing and changing too, just a few paces behind the lads from Liverpool.

Junior high, with its painful initiation into the rites of social intercourse, was the time when music first became a solace to my oft-injured soul.  And though I did not understand the details of their own quest - their age and sophistication were well beyond my tender years - somehow the combination of rebellion and truth-seeking in the Beatles music was comprehensible and comforting to me. I was searching too.

By the time I reached high school and began grappling with the issues of war, civil rights and social justice, the Beatles were in the final stages of collapse as a group. I have never regretted their breakup.  The Beatles had been able to stay one step ahead of the "rock impressarios" up to that time, but it was inevitable that they would have become yet another big business band and a monument to self-parody had they continued.

I continued to listen to Beatle music through college and beyond.  Though my interest in rock music offered up other heroes it was never the same. Other groups might capture my feelings for a few months or even a few years, but the Beatles were like lifelong good friends.  We had learned about the world together and nothing would ever change that.

Those four British boys were uniquely gifted as a group, creating songs and a sound that were far greater than the sum of the parts.  Their solo efforts never came close.  There was plenty of individual talent, and a generous portion of charm and wit, but their incredible impact on this world was circumstantial - a perfect union of those mystical forces that create an historical moment.

The day after the shooting, I walked over to MIT and found that Lennon's death was the topic of every conversation.  All of my friends and co-workers were grieving in some fashion. Radio stations played nothing but Beatle music and stores were quickly sold out of every Beatle album. In a review session that I attended, an Iranian graduate student announced, with eyes glistening, that he was dedicating the session to the memory of John Lennon.

Throughout that day and the next few, I wrestled with my memories of the Beatles and tried to reconcile sentiment with reason. John Lennon, whatever his faults or vanities, had stubbornly spoken for the idealist in all of us.  Why can't we just give peace a chance?  Why can't we imagine a world without war or hatred?

On the Sunday following his death, a rally and candle vigil was held in downtown Boston at Copley Square - timed to coincide with a worldwide ten minutes of silence for the fallen legend. The day was brutally cold, but still thousands came.

The embers of the 60s had smoldered and glowed throughout the 70s. Many had hoped that the gentle integrity of Jimmy Carter might fan them into life again, but it was not to be. Then, suddenly, a reaction of cynical pragmatism gripped the nation. Dreams of social equality and international peace were abandoned in a frenzy of greed and nationalism.

The year 1980 rang the death knell for the innocent questing spirit of the 60s.  The Soviets were in Afghanistan, the hostages were in Iran, and a disgruntled public voted in Ronald Reagan as president a month before the death of John Lennon.

The Beatles had served as an alter-ego for our generation. And now, a part of them was dead, shot down as if to exclaim once and for all the absurdity of believing that love could change the world.

The cold and the wind forced the crowd to huddle together for the ten minutes of silence.  The closeness had an electric effect, and I could see many around me weeping, yet smiling through their tears. I felt those twin currents of hope and despair surging through the crowd, but somehow the mood was triumphant. It was the end of an era, but love would carry the day.

Vanity, Envy and Competition, Part 4

We have explored how our vanity and insecurity are the yin and yang of our praise addiction.  But how do envy and competition fit into this psychological constellation?

We are all familiar with envy – it is a reflex feeling almost as natural as breathing.  We envy the rich; we envy the famous; we envy the guy next door with the Tesla.  We envy our friends who take exotic vacations, or whose kids are going to better colleges.  We envy people who are taller, or thinner or smarter or more athletic.  We envy our classmates who have risen higher on the corporate ladder.  We envy the guy who gets the pretty girls, or the girl who gets the pretty guys!

Sometimes we are able to talk ourselves out of feeling envious.  Intellectually, we know that the rich are often not very happy, and that money and possessions are not the source of well-being.  But our culture celebrates wealth – the more the better – so our gut reaction is to be envious of those who have it.  And envying physical attributes is another lovely side effect of our cultural baggage.  Perfect bodies and faces stare out at us from every corner of the media and chip away at our self-image.

Is envy a character defect?  Are some people able to overcome the insidious urge to envy by strength of will and confidence in their own accomplishments and life situation?  I suspect that everyone falls prey to envy on a fairly routine basis.  In moments of weakness or uncertainty, at times of depression, at times when we feel that ache of regret for opportunities squandered or lacking, or even just in the routine of daily thought, the temptation to wish for something that others seem to have is poised to creep into our consciousness unsolicited, unwanted and even dreaded.  No one wants to be envious, but we are powerless in the face of so many stimuli that awaken the feeling.

Why is it so difficult for us to be satisfied with our lives? Most of us live like kings compared to much of the world.  We should feel triumphant in the amazing good fortune that has been thrust upon us.  Yet envy is always lurking, ready to poison our hearts in a weak moment.

But perhaps a certain amount of envy is a good thing?  Is envy a precursor to ambition?  Is it envy that seeds our competitive drive and enables us to strive for ever higher goals?  Is it indeed envy that is the engine for human progress?  Or is envy a weakness that corrupts our character and paralyzes us?

To investigate these questions we must go back once again to look at human activity and analyze its motivations.  Human beings are so incredibly diverse in their energy levels and drive.  Some people are in constant motion, with a seemingly inexhaustible ambition to accomplish things.  Others seem permanently lethargic with almost no discernible goal or interest.  Are these innate attributes, or are they the result of our interaction with the world and the way that our ego responds to it?

We observed previously that some part of our lives is focused on the banalities of daily existence – sleeping, eating, basic chores and so on - and some part on pleasurable activities.  A third part is comprised of the endeavors that set us in competition with our fellow human beings – work, sports, education, the arts and many others.

Some of the effort we expend for these activities is certainly motivated by the pure joy of doing them.  But we soon encounter the competitive aspect and our motivations become mixed.  And the more successful we are in these activities, the more the competitive urge dominates.

Are we competitive because we envy the success of others or is there a basic drive independent of envy?  We speak of the competitive urge as though it were an innate quality.  An athlete is a ‘real competitor’.  A successful businessman has ‘a strong competitive instinct’. 

We laud these qualities in our culture.  The more competitive the better.  We develop our children’s competitive nature from their earliest days in sports, games and school, then later in business.  Competition is so integrally bound with praise, vanity and envy that it is almost impossible to isolate the pure quality of competitiveness.

I was recently watching a PBS special on how the chemical elements were discovered.  In interviews or writings of each of the famous scientists it was edifying to note that their initial fascination and activity was prompted by intellectual curiosity, but that their later almost obsessive hard work and tenacity was characterized by a desire to become renowned, to make their mark on the world of chemistry and have their contribution acknowledged by one and all.

It is clear that competition is interwoven with vanity, envy and praise in the complex web of human endeavor.   But it may also be that we are driven to compete by some basic biological imperative for survival and propagation of the species.  Competition has been the engine of human progress, hasn’t it?

But competition also leaves much human misery and heartache in its wake.  Is that inevitable?  Is the world always to be populated by winners and losers?  Is competition necessary to prevent human beings from descending into sloth and indolence?  Or is there an evolutionary process toward cooperation and community that may one day replace competition as the primary motivation for humankind?

That is the question we shall explore in the final segment of Vanity, Envy and Competition.  Stay tuned!

On Refugees and Migrants

One of the profoundly unsettling consequences of global communication and social media is the way it shatters our illusions about how compassionate we are and shines a spotlight on our own selfishness and impotence.  The entire world was heartbroken at the sight of two drowned boys and a despairing father from Syria, but our despair seems to have no outlet, no path to right these horrible wrongs or to prevent them from happening over and over again.

We donate money to various aid organizations, but this tiny gesture seems sadly anemic in the face of the horrific political and military forces that shatter the lives of so many human beings.  Is it our fate to become inured to the misery that this world so often causes, to close off our hearts in an effort to shield ourselves from pangs of conscience?  Can we assuage our guilt with modest sympathetic declarations and monetary contributions?

It is particularly frustrating that years of economic development and steady improvement of living conditions can be wiped out in a few months by a despot or a rogue militia group.  The world looks on in helpless outrage, but short of sending in ground troops and undertaking major military operations – an operation that few are willing or able to undertake after the lessons of Iraq and Afghanistan – there is almost nothing to be done other than to try to be compassionate to the desperate souls who flee.

We try to distinguish between refugees and migrants, but I would argue that when we look deeply at the causes, these descriptions become a distinction without a difference.  In theory, a refugee is someone fleeing because it is no longer safe for them to remain in their country.  A migrant is someone who is ‘merely’ seeking a better life – migrating to a more prosperous country than the one they inhabited.

But both refugees and migrants are risking their lives and what little fortune they have managed to accumulate in the same desperate and dangerous voyage.  And they are both almost always the victims of corrupt political systems that have squandered the country’s economic resources, or of anarchic, civil war conditions that make normal commerce impossible to sustain.  Almost all of the significant migrations are in the end the result of politics and/or war – Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Somalia, Ethiopia, Mali, Sudan, even Mexico and Central America.

Is a migrant with no opportunity to improve his life so different from a refugee fleeing for his?  If you cannot put food on the table in your native land and have no hope for improvement because of years of political corruption or civil war, is your quest for a new life any less worthy than that of a person whose life is similarly devastated but perhaps in more immediate danger?

The statue of liberty and Ellis Island stand as symbols of America’s long history of accepting immigrants and transforming them into the engine of the U.S. economy.  But these immigrants were never really ‘welcomed’, were they?  Every immigrant group that came to these shores suffered tremendous hardship and prejudice – the Irish, the Germans, the Jews, the Italians, the Chinese and so on.  There were always concerns that the ‘pure’ nature of American society would somehow be diminished by these ‘hordes’ of new citizens. Yet we prospered by the infusion, and still do.

As long as the gulf in this world between rich and poor nations is so large and the incidence of mayhem and war so great, there will be large movements of people willing or forced to risk all to find a better life.  And it is only human that those who are already enjoying the peace and prosperity of a favored land will jealously guard their treasure and good fortune from new aspirants.

But sadly, this refugee and migrant crisis is now even more complex because of an increasing skepticism by many that assimilation is not really occurring for many ethnic and religious groups, and that countries willing to host them are taking a risk for future conflict and possible terrorism within their borders.

Germany has been the rare example of a courageous voice for setting aside suspicions and reservations to do the right thing.  It is an historical irony, but an inspiring one, that the country whose past was the very essence of ethnic purity and intolerance is now the leading advocate for humane and charitable treatment of the many different groups looking toward it as a beacon of hope.

In the end we must all overcome our fears and doubts and welcome the stranger if we aspire to our better natures and a better world.  For we are the fortunate ones who won the random lottery of birth and circumstance.  In no situation it is more accurately stated: there but for the grace of God go I.  But it will require all of the humanity that we can muster to embrace the spirit of the poem that adorns our Statue of Liberty: 

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Vanity, Envy and Competition Part 3

We have talked about how vanity and insecurity are the poles of our daily wrestling with our ego, and about how our unquenchable thirst for praise drives it all.  We are creatures that need to be loved, and we can only imagine being loved if we are praiseworthy.

But what about unconditional love?  Doesn’t almost every religion and every self-help philosophy stress the concept of unconditional love or self-worth?  Aren’t we told that we are beautiful creatures who deserve to be loved regardless of our faults and weaknesses, independent of our achievements, wealth and fame?  Of course we are, but do we believe it?

How can we possibly believe it when we are assaulted on every front by the merciless score keeping of the culture around us?  Intellectually and rationally we may convince ourselves in a quiet moment that the world’s values are wrong, that we should be content with our lives and ourselves, that God loves us equally.  But the reassuring tranquility of that moment vanishes in a heartbeat when the long-cultivated habits of our striving are awakened by a simple pretentious comment from an acquaintance or a quick perusal of one’s class notes in a college alumni magazine.

Expressing one’s vanity is sometimes viewed very positively.  We call it self-confidence.  But there is a fine line between self-confidence and arrogance.  An athlete can be a little bit ‘cocky’, but too much is considered bad form.  The line has been drawn ever farther on the side of cockiness since Muhammad Ali declared to anyone who would listen (and isn’t it amazing how we all did!) that he was the greatest.  I remember the old bromide ‘no brag just fact’, which supposedly justified bragging when one was truly capable.  But why brag even then?  Who really cares and what is one accomplishing?

Expressions of cockiness and other less attractive forms of braggadocio seem mostly to reek of insecurity and a desperate need for praise.  In our society bragging has been elevated to an art form, often best described as pretentiousness.  Its subtleties are mastered over a lifetime, though it is a skill that in the end gives only the most tenuous of pleasures and often leaves one feeling disgusted with oneself.

But we also prize humility, which is in itself a very elusive quality.  The minute we seek humility, it often eludes us.  For in seeking humility we may succumb to the temptation of feeling superior to others who are not so humble!  One of my favorite joke-illustrations is the story of the two priests praying at the altar in the church.  The senior priest prays out loud ‘Have mercy upon me, Lord, I am nothing . . .’.  The younger priest, much affected by the older priest’s humility cries out ‘And have mercy upon me, Lord, for I too am nothing’.  In the back of the church, a janitor who has witnessed the prayers of these great men of God falls to his knees and joins in ‘And upon me, Lord, for I am also nothing.’   The younger Priest looks at the older Priest, rolling his eyes and says ‘Look who thinks he’s nothing!’

The quality of true humility must be almost an unconscious attribute, or at least one must be exceedingly careful in adorning oneself with it.  Vanity often cloaks itself with humility.  If the quest for humility is to avoid the endless sparring of social bragging and to pull away from all the nonsense of comparisons, then it is indeed a ‘consolation devoutly to be wished’.  But beware, soon your friends will be describing you as humble.  Then you may find that you are inwardly thrilled to be praised in such a manner and make the sad discovery that your humility has fled!

Demagoguery, Anger and Politics

I have often wondered what it was like to live in Germany during the late 1920’s and early 1930’s, to see the tentacles of Nazism wrap themselves around daily life and begin to control all social and political discourse.  We see Hitler and his henchmen as such evil and detestable characters today that it is difficult for us to imagine how they could have seized power in one of the most educated and sophisticated countries in the world.

Was Hitler a ridiculous figure at first to most people?  Did everyone find his ravings amusing and good fodder for parody?  At what point did people become aware that his following was growing rapidly and that his brown shirts were a real and terrifying force?  Did ordinary people shrug their shoulders and acknowledge that Hitler had tapped into a deep anger and frustration, never thinking that he might actually force his way into the halls of power?  At what point did they begin to realize that this was not just humorous political theater?

Donald Trump leads the polls for the Republican nomination.  When he announced his candidacy, politicians on the left and right smiled patronizingly and predicted that he would provide good entertainment, but certainly no serious threat.  Recently, Jeb Bush acknowledged that Trump was ‘tapping into anti-establishment anger’, but his campaign staff is apparently delighted by Trump’s strong showing, believing that the more successful and poisonous Trump is, the more Jeb will be cast as the ‘serious’ antidote candidate.

What is all this anger about anyway?  Political issues have always sparked emotional responses, but the anger and the paranoia these days seem to be at fever pitch.  Are people angry about the economy, about slow job growth?  Well, certainly the economy could be better and there are not enough middle class jobs, but the economy doesn’t seem to be in the kind of horrible shape that would cause deep anger.  Is the anger all about our foreign affairs?  Does anyone think there are easy answers to the morass of international issues any administration faces?  Perhaps the anger is about social issues - gay rights, promiscuity, religion or abortion?  Or perhaps about the changing face of America – the immigration of Hispanic, Asian and African people, legal or illegal.  But all of this seems manageable, not justifying the very visceral anger that seems to lurk under the surface across America.

It is almost as though people enjoy being angry, even about issues that are abstractions and far removed from their daily lives and pleasures; that there is an insidious temptation to look for the dark side and revel in rumors of plots, conspiracies and apocalyptic events.  I have seen blogs and comments that indicate an unfeigned joy at the thought of armed struggle in the United States.  Over what?!!

I suspect that identifying with a demagogue and his or her associated causes is a way to find meaning in an otherwise banal and uneventful life.  It is a means to deflect self-hatred or regret and to aim this energy and fury at perceived enemies.   It is also a way to escape the relentless change that our society is undergoing and the huge effort required, both intellectual and emotional, for people to adjust – the change in our cultural identity, the change in technology, the change in sexual mores, the change in employment models, etc. etc.

It seems alarmist to worry about a Nazi type of demagoguery and anger taking hold in the U.S. today.  We have a long history of peaceful political dialogue that resists violence even when tempers and passions are at meter pegging levels.  But is it really that far-fetched?  It is difficult to discern whether Donald Trump is a harmless buffoon or a dangerous megalomaniac.  People who are so certain of themselves and so unwilling to accept ambiguity and nuance in the world are unpredictable.

I take comfort in the fact that most likely Donald Trump will self-destruct in the coming months and be recognized by the good American people for the blowhard that he is.  But there is just enough charisma in the man and just enough wingnuts in the land to make one wonder whether this could be the beginning of a very strange and very frightening odyssey.

Vanity, Envy and Competition Part 2

Freud introduced a model of the psyche that was based on concepts of the id, ego and super-ego.  The id is defined as the primal, instinctual desires and impulses that every human being has.  The ego acts to mediate between the id and reality.  Freud said the ego is like a man on horseback, controlling the superior power of the id based on real circumstances and needs.  The super-ego is similar to conscience, an internalization of cultural rules and standards that is developed over time. The ego must balance the id and super-ego, thus careening from passion to guilt to joy to sorrow.

When we speak of egotism, we recognize that in our most primitive state we are focused on our own needs and desires.  Even with the modifying influences of the super-ego and the social contract that our environment imposes, we cannot help but be egotistical to some degree.  But why does this egotism so often express itself in competition or comparison to others, and why do our self-image and contentment become so entangled in those comparisons?

As infants we are trained to seek approval and affirmation.  We squeal in delight as our parents lavish praise upon us – ‘What a good baby!’, ‘What a smart baby!’, ‘Look at you crawling!’, ‘Look at you talking!’ and on and on.  We learn to equate praise with love.  To be loved is to be happy, therefore to be praised is to be happy. And so it begins.

At first, this praise is focused on individual achievement that is unrelated to other human beings.  But soon enough our parents, teachers, coaches and others begin to praise us for being better than someone else – the best grade in the class, the best time in the 100m freestyle, the one who scored the goal, the one who solved the puzzle, the pretty one, the sexy one (well, that comes a little later one would hope!)

Eventually, the pleasure of praise becomes an addiction.  When this praise is not as fluidly forthcoming as it was in early childhood, our ego seeks out implicit praise by establishing our own internal evaluations that we must constantly validate.  Even if we are not explicitly praised by others, we assume that they are praising us if we are smarter, faster, better looking, have better clothes, have a nicer car, have a higher paying job, go to a better school.

Our culture heaps praise on the winners.  Even once we are beyond the tender, innocent praise of our parents, the monster of our addiction grows unfettered as every facet of our lives is weighed in the scale of cultural significance and we are assigned our rank.

Where our parents’ guileless indoctrination leaves off, the media and the culture take over.  Every magazine, movie and television image tempts us with comparisons – do we have the right clothes, the right car, the right house?  Do we eat at the best restaurants, do we vacation at the best locations, are our careers noteworthy? 

Most of consumer advertising is based on producing a feeling of inadequacy that must be transformed into contentment by the acquisition of various material items.  But even non-advertising media tend to reinforce society’s valuation of people based on comparisons.

As infants, we strive to grow and learn from instinct and a native curiosity.  But as we grow older, our efforts become more goal driven, and often that goal is to garner accolades from some quarter or to attain some measure of status.  We may play a sport because we love the game, but once success comes, the relentless practice and ambition is certainly motivated in part by a desire for renown and praise. 

In many of our endeavors, it is difficult to separate our own joy in an activity from the desire to be acclaimed for our efforts.  And the more acclaim we receive the more we need it.  It is truly an addiction.  We see it again and again with the most successful and famous.  Does Donald Trump want to become President because of an altruistic desire to help the nation?  Don’t make me laugh!  His vanity compels him!  He is not content to be one of the richest men on earth because the addiction he has is even larger than his wealth.

Vanity is defined by Webster as excessive pride in one’s appearance, qualities, abilities or achievements.  I would modify this definition by taking out the word excessive.  All pride for oneself is vanity.  Being happy or content with one’s appearance, achievements, etc. is fine. But to me the word pride implies a comparison with others.  And once that act of comparison begins, where does it end?

Our vanity is not just a pleasure-seeking mechanism.  It is also a futile attempt to avoid the discomfort of our insecurity.  Vanity and insecurity are the ying and yang of our daily social interactions and internal struggles.  We are locked in an unending pendulum swing from one to the other.

The irony of vanity is that from a rational point of view it makes almost no sense.  What we are praising and seeking and feeling is for the most part a purely random act of nature.  Have you ever noticed that one of the highest forms of praise is:  ‘He got an A on that test and he didn’t even have to study!’, or ‘He is an incredible natural athlete!’  How absurd!!  If he didn’t study, then his achievement is solely on the basis of his native intelligence, which was an accident of birth.  The same is true of the natural athlete.  We are celebrating luck!  There is no merit here, only a fact of genetics.

So much of our vanity centers on natural endowment – beauty, intelligence, athleticism. Even such traits as energy, ambition, and drive are probably heavily influenced by our genetic makeup.  Yet we celebrate them and seek acknowledgement of our good fortune in the thousand interactions where we subtly or explicitly proclaim our accomplishments.

Is there human activity that is not sullied by the curse of vanity?  Of course!  Fortunately, there are many moments where we are liberated from this vicious cycle and can revel in the joys of this world.  But sadly the effects are prone to hang over us like a dark cloud and plague us in the quiet moments when we contemplate our life’s value and meaning.

Vanity, Envy and Competition - Part 1

“I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind.” 

This verse from Ecclesiastes, ostensibly written by King Solomon, is a pretty complete dismissal of mankind’s striving.  The fact that Solomon, who had achieved so much in his life, was so cynical about human effort, is pretty sobering.

Not long after I started college something focused my attention on the large role that vanity plays in our lives and I have been in equal parts fascinated and horrified by it ever since.

In writing this little piece of analysis, I am somewhat fearful of exposing myself as a terribly vain and insecure person, but I am fairly certain that I am not unusual in this regard, so I will take the risk.  After all, Solomon is pretty good company!

I had grown up in the heart of the 60’s and my high school years were a far cry from today’s cauldron of competition and egomania.  Few of my classmates worried about grades and we certainly didn’t talk about them. Even the dreaded SAT’s were fairly low key.  We were more worried about the Vietnam War than getting into college and we focused much of our energy and thoughts on the social changes around us.

Now of course no adolescence is complete without the ‘thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to’ during this period – the social hierarchy and posturing, the gain and loss of friends, the athletic competition and so on.  But I do believe my generation’s experience, particularly in the realm of competition and pressure, is a cakewalk in comparison with the gauntlet that today’s youth must run.

However, when I went off to Stanford (okay, already a pretentious remark – this is, after all, a piece about vanity!) in 1972 I soon encountered a much more obvious strain of vanity than I had experienced before.  And I say this believing strongly that the Stanford of my day cannot hold a candle to the super citadel of ego that Stanford is today (see my blog entry on Stepford University - http://www.rvgeiger.blogspot.com/2014/11/stepford-university.html - for more on that!).

My classmates were subtly (and occasionally, quite brazenly) probing one another for details on SAT scores, family wealth, travel experiences and a host of other scoring factors to determine the relative pecking order.  Even drug experiences and joint-rolling prowess could potentially establish one’s superiority or uniqueness in a group that was filled with super achievers.

This is not to say that we spent all of our time engaging in such nonsense.  But it happened often enough that it made an impression on me.  I found myself envying some of my fellow students their wealth or social position.  Some could speak foreign languages and I soon felt inadequate in this arena.  I was repulsed by the posturing whenever I encountered it, but I found that I was not above subtly bragging when the opportunity came my way. 

Yet the irony was that bragging and pretension did not produce a positive feeling in either the bragger or the reluctant recipient.  Why then, were we so apt to engage in it? What possible benefit were we deriving?  What horrible psychological problem was at the root of it all?

And thus began my investigation into the complex web of vanity, envy and competition that is both the curse and the driving force for much of human endeavor.  I am not quite vain enough to believe that I have anything unique or definitive to say on the subject, but I have done enough thinking in this area to pose some interesting questions for my readers to ponder.  More to come.