Blog for January 16th…
In under the wire – it’s one minute to midnight!
Today (and a little bit of tomorrow) I’m going to write about selfhood, integrity and cultural tradition. I’m fascinated by the ‘personal branding’ so prevalent now that you can take courses in it.
Personal branding… (PB) – it’s completely alien to me. I was taught – not just by my mother – that as a shining example of virtue I should not talk about myself, brag about my exploits, tell stories about where I’ve been, and certainly never put myself at the centre of any narratives I might want to share – with anyone, at any level.
Why not? Well – it was considered rude. A form of arrogance and ‘braggadocio’ to be avoided at all costs. I could stand there in the street as my mother chatted to my neighbour about how wonderful I was, but I’d never expect her to tell me, and I’d get short shrift if I tried to ‘big myself up’ in any way.
And now – there’s this cultural shift where I should apparently expect everybody out there to view me as ‘a person of interest’. I can’t do it, actually. I feel like writing my name in small letters… like such luminaries as ee cummings and bell hooks. (Even autocorrect won’t let me do that). I certainly don’t list publications in my email signature and I resist very strongly the urge to impress. I’m impressive enough. Talk to me.
It’s worrying to note that in a tv programme of a few years ago, it was shown that if you stand on a table and shout about how wonderful you are, people will believe you – and that sooner rather than later. It’s worrying because there is no basis of evidence for this assumption – it’s predicated only on the person’s own desire to be seen.
I don’t think this approach leads to self worth, actually. I think it’s another 21st conceit – the Conceit of Candy-floss… that is, a cloud of sugar and air masquerading as nourishment. You can’t live on candy floss. I don’t think it’s good idea to build your self concept on this – and yet children as young as nine are engaging in it.
What are you doing but constructing a cage for yourself? Building the bars of a future prison. You’ll find it hard to change your mind about things you’re thinking about now and thus change people’s perceptions of you. You’ll become, if you’re unlucky, so identified with particular ideas it will be hard to convince anyone you want to drop them.
This is what used to happen to actors – type-casting. Didn’t they use to say in Hollywood that you knew you’d made it if you were type-cast? There are many who hated that – the amazingly talented Kenneth Williams was one. But we’re doing it to ourselves. The screw tightens downwards till there’s nowhere else to go and then you’re really stuck.
I’m all in favour of appreciating a person for themself – the unique creation that they are. I would have liked my mother to have taken a more holistic view of me, for sure! I don’t need to be beaten over the head with someone’s accomplishments. I want to see who they are.
There’s a culture in academe today called ‘publish or perish’. People laugh about it, rather than fight it. But friends, if you acquiesce, you lose all integrity. Your identity becomes flattened because you give your power away. You adopt the Candy floss Conceit and you end up either defined by your titles (because no one will read your stuff – they’ll cite you if it looks appealing and let’s face it, AI probably created half of it) or you’ll develop, from the sugar you’re ingesting, career diabetes, malnutrition and personal emptiness. Isn’t that ironic? The thing you think you’re eating ends up consuming you.
I don’t think I’m harking back to a forgotten time. I don’t desire to return. I think I’m hearing the death knell of something that was once a feast, that could have nourished hearts, minds and souls, and is now a vacuous entity that looks substantial and isn’t. Welcome to the Cloud.
And those for whom thinking, real thinking, is a threat, look on and smile. Because they know what is being lost.
So let’s hear the voices of quality and integrity – and let’s open our eyes and resist. All that glisters is not gold. And to mix metal with mammal – let us not like lemmings pour over that precipice to our doom.