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Getting Past the Velvet Ropes: Status Anxiety in Neptune

William Irwin

If a visitor from a long time ago or from a culture far, far away dropped into Neptune, that visitor would be amazed by the great wealth not just of the Kanes, Echolls, and Casablancas, but also of the Navarros, Mars, and Fennels. They all have more than enough to eat, plenty of clothes, climate-controlled dwelling places with indoor plumbing, and cars and motorcycles to take them wherever they want to go. But it wouldn’t take our visitor long to see that, despite the incredible base level of wealth, not everyone is considered the same. There are differences in status, in one’s standing in society. Some are at the top, some are at the bottom, and, despite Veronica’s description of Neptune as “a town without a middle class,” some are in the middle.

These differences would likely seem silly to our visitor, who would consider all the Neptunians wildly wealthy. After just a little time in town, though, our visitor would be able to identify the problem plaguing Neptune: status anxiety. Everyone is worried about where he or she fits on the hierarchy of standing and importance. Our visitor wouldn’t necessarily have to be human to grasp the importance of status. Some lower primates sort themselves, with alpha males beating their chests, feeding first, and claiming privileged mating rights. We humans would like to think we are above such vulgar displays, yet a quick glance at Neptune or at our own town reveals that we may be more subtle, but only a little.

Backup

Where we fit in, what our status is, matters. It matters to the way others treat us, but, maybe more importantly, it matters to the way we think of ourselves. And the two are linked. The way others treat us influences the way we think of ourselves. In his book Status Anxiety, Alain de Botton discusses both the causes of and the solutions to the problem.1 Most impressive among the solutions are philosophy and art.

The phrase “be philosophical about it” virtually identifies philosophy with Stoicism, the philosophy that counsels us to determine our own feelings and state of mind without regard to what others think, believe, say, or do. Epictetus (55–135 ce), one of the leading Stoic philosophers, counseled:

Remember that the insult does not come from the person who abuses you or hits you, but from your judgement that such people are insulting you. Therefore, whenever someone provokes you, be aware that it is your own opinion that provokes you. Try, therefore, in the first place, not to be carried away by your impressions, for if you can gain time and delay, you will more easily control yourself.2

Seeming to speak directly to Veronica on the eve of Shelly Pomeroy’s party, Epictetus says:

[I]f you have not been invited to someone’s party that is because you have not paid them the price for which an invitation is sold. They sell it for praise; they sell it for flattery. Pay the price, then, for which it is sold, if you think this will be to your advantage. But if at the same time you do not want to pay the one, yet wish to receive the other, you are insatiable and foolish. Do you have nothing, then, in place of the invitation? You have this—you have not had to praise the person you did not want to praise, and you have not had to bear the insolence of their doorkeepers.3

Epictetus believed that one’s dignity and self-respect were far more important than one’s status. That might seem an easy thing for him to say, though. After all, Epictetus had been a slave and had a crippled leg. He had no real chance of achieving status, and so it was easy for him to think that status doesn’t matter. Yuck, those grapes you can’t reach must be sour—right, Epictetus? Maybe not.

Another leading Stoic philosopher of antiquity was Marcus Aurelius (121–180 ce). You may have heard of him, especially if you saw Gladiator—he was portrayed in that one. Russell Crowe beat out Aaron Echolls for the title role. (I forget who played Marcus Aurelius—it was a small part.4) Marcus Aurelius was the emperor of Rome, the most powerful man in the world at the time. People like Jake Kane bowed before him. And yet he was a Stoic. After his death, the private journal of Marcus Aurelius was published as a work of Stoic philosophy, under the title Meditations. What did the most powerful man in the world have to worry about? Plenty. There were threats from barbarian tribes; but, more seriously, there were plots against him among his own people, including his own “friends.” Even closer to home, his wife was having affairs. Marcus Aurelius could have gotten very upset and could have turned brutal and vindictive, but instead he turned philosophical, saying: “Will any man despise me? Let him see to it. But I will see to it that I may not be found doing or saying anything that deserves to be despised.”5 The Stoic emperor realized and accepted that the thoughts and actions of other people were beyond his direct control. At most he could influence them, and all attempts to have an influence would come at a price, often to be paid with his own serenity.

So two of the most important Stoics of the ancient world were a slave and an emperor. This gives us some hope that Stoicism could work in Neptune. But it leaves us wondering how it would work for someone like Keith Mars, who is neither a PCH-er nor an 09-er. Happiness is an inside job, that’s the Stoic message. Virtue is its own reward, they would say. Through practice and effort you can develop your good character traits, your virtues, and no one can take those away from you, no matter what they say or do. Neptune society can kick Keith Mars out of office and label him a liar and a loser, but it can’t take away his virtue and his dignity. He knows that he’s honest, truth seeking, diligent, and intelligent. And he doggedly pursues the truth about Lilly Kane despite costs in status.

Keith is a mere mortal, though, and not exempt from feeling some status anxiety, especially on behalf of his daughter. Members of the Mars family have had to scale back their lifestyle, and Veronica has been ostracized by the 09-er crowd. Thankfully, like her father, Veronica has backup—no, not Backup the dog, but backup in the form of other things to make her feel good about herself. Sure she would like to have the approval and endorsement of the 09-er crowd. Who wouldn’t? But Veronica finds that she can derive self-worth and happiness from many of the same virtues her father has: honesty, a dedication to the truth, diligence, and intelligence. And the approval of her father and of friends like Wallace and Mac is all she needs. As Botton says: “A mature solution to status anxiety may be said to begin with the recognition that status is available from, and awarded by a variety of different audiences … and that our choice among them may be free and willed.”6

The Computer Geek and the Snitch

Let’s face it, though, Veronica has one major advantage over her father. She’s cute as a button, and not in some dumb-blonde way. Her sassy wit makes her otherwise dime-a-dozen Californian good looks something special. She’s charismatic without being unctuous or ingratiating. She’s confident without being arrogant. And this sure makes life easier for Veronica than it would be if she were the nerdy bookworm type. Speaking of which, her friend Cindy “Mac” Mackenzie doesn’t have it easy and doesn’t turn heads as she walks down the hall. Mac loves her family, but she doesn’t quite fit in. They like NASCAR and camping, whereas she likes NPR and computers. It turns out that there’s a reason for this: she was switched at birth with the despicable Madison Sinclair, who now resides with Mac’s biological parents and exploits their wealth for all the status it will get her—including by throwing a lavish sixteenth birthday party for herself (“Silence of the Lamb”). Despite Epictetus’ advice, Mac can’t help but attend the party, bonding with her unwitting biological little sister and visiting the house afterward, to meet her biological mother, on the pretense of having left her purse in the library. Later, before leaving for a camping trip with her family – the Mackenzies – Mac sees her biological mother parked across the street. In a poignant scene, Mac walks up to the car. She and Mrs. Sinclair make knowing eye contact with each other as they each press hands against the car window.

Mac’s life isn’t bad. Still, she can’t help but imagine how it would be better with her biological family. She seems to suffer from what Botton describes as “the feeling that we might, under different circumstances, be something other than what we are—a feeling inspired by exposure to the superior achievements of those whom we take to be our equals—that generates anxiety and resentment.”7 Mac would not, we hope, use the status of the Sinclair family the way Madison does, to develop popularity, but would avail herself instead of her parents’ resources to develop her mind, as her biological sister Lauren has.

Who knows? Madison, too, may have been better off with her biological parents. Despite her life of privilege, Madison is not particularly happy; she...