We Love 'Em Just the Way They Are
The Bernard L. Schwartz Fellows Program, New America in California
For all her talents and accomplishments, it is clear that Sarah Palin became
the Republican vice presidential candidate more on the merits of who she is and
where she came from -- an identity that is partly real and surely carefully
constructed -- rather than on what she has done or promises to do. The same can
be said to a lesser extent for the other hit persona of the season, Barack
Obama -- at the least, he ran his own successful campaign for the Democratic
presidential nomination.
Once upon a time, Americans prided themselves on establishing what sociologist
Philip Slater called "a culture of becoming." Our uniqueness, in
Slater's words, lay "in our aptitude for change and our willingness to
engage in continual self-creation."
Our heroes were self-made men, and we lauded and emulated their journeys. We
knew that the journey remade the man, and although we revered the original
character traits that drove them to achieve, it was still their achievements
that we ultimately prized.
Intentions paved the road to hell; deeds were everything.
But four decades of the "me" culture -- the contemporary cult of
self-esteem -- have changed all that. We've replaced Slater's idea of becoming
with one of merely being. We're all great, just the way we are.
We don't have to win or be the best or do much of anything at all, because
those concepts have been erased by the fact that whatever we do, whoever we are
right now, is good enough. As Principal Skinner from "The Simpsons"
puts it: "All I know is that no one is better than anyone else, and
everyone is the best at everything."
It's a noble ideology, sort of. I'm all for imbuing children with the idea that
they are loved and appreciated no matter what.
But we sometimes forget that if we are to maintain our democracy, we also need
to maintain and encourage high levels of real achievement -- as opposed to mere
self-satisfaction -- by as many people as possible. In Thomas Jefferson's
words: "Let us in education dream of an aristocracy of achievement arising
out of a democracy of opportunity."
Obama first came to prominence by writing an eloquent memoir about finding
himself. In her convention speech Wednesday, Palin was proud as punch to be
just your average "hockey mom" who apparently didn't do much more
than sign up for the PTA in order to magically become a small-town mayor, a
governor and vice presidential candidate. At their core, both politicians seek
to appeal to us by flaunting their personal "essence" rather than
their objective achievements.
Absent in what they are selling us is any sense of deep transformation or
personal triumph; there is no man or woman from Hope,
Ark., or Dixon,
Ill., here. (Even average guy
George W. Bush was transformed: An indulgent, lost rich kid redeemed, in part,
by religion and sobriety.)
Call it the Popeye-ization of America
-- "I am what I am." Rather than emphasizing how far someone has come
from where they started, we demand that our heroes personify where they came
from. We even fetishize a person's ability to seem like the same old guy we've
always known. Jennifer Lopez -- fabulously wealthy now, with the mean streets
of the Bronx far behind her -- cultivates an
image her fans can relate to: just Jenny from the block.
A different kind of "me" fixation used to prevail: traditional
American individualism. It was a positive force in U.S society. It contributed
to our cultural dynamism, what Tocqueville called our "restlessness."
The inalienable rights of "life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness" are individual rights. The Declaration of Independence and the
Bill of Rights established a social space free of government interference,
which encouraged people to pursue their own paths, live up to their potential,
do great things. The freedoms we enshrined were intended to facilitate
"becoming." The rest was up to us.
Now, a culture that puts self-worth and self-affirmation above
self-determination stifles action.
It says a lot about who we've become that it no longer offends us that someone
can be famous just for being famous. It says a lot that we don't think twice
when a candidate asks for our vote almost purely based on issues of identity
rather than on policy positions or proven results. We've gotten used to the
fact that it's no longer about what you've made of yourself, but where you came
from and who you "are."











