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The need for humans to acquire status is constant. We have invented countless ways to represent it — credentials, luxury goods, and many more. Why?
Deep within our brains hides millions of years of evolution. We’re wired to seek status because we needed to belong to a tribe in order to survive. It was crucial to signal your worth to the tribe. Otherwise, being deemed useless, you were kicked out and eventually died.
I grew up in a town where everyone was some unspecified level of upper middle class. We didn’t think about it much beyond that. There was no showboating or keeping up with the Joneses. To gain status in my friend group was to be good at sports or Call of Duty. Having status on a micro level was comfortable. I enjoyed those activities and had the respect of people I cared about.
But when I went to college, the definition of status changed. A new tribe. No longer did state championships and K/D ratios matter. Now status was measured by how much you could drink and where you were interning. In hindsight, this was just growing up. But it wasn’t the last time that I learned a new status game.
After graduation, I worked at a big bank where status was blatantly visible. The road to money and promotions was paved and everyone played the corporate status game. But the biggest shift here is I was no longer confined to status in my childhood suburb or college campus. I began to travel, experience new things, and become attuned to life's broader status games.
Status Runs Deep
Status to humans is like water to fish—prevalent, yet so subtle that you could live each day unaware of it. Once you start noticing, it is hard not to see status and the interesting ways it shows up.
Status is the main way we trust many professionals. Last year, a family member needed heart surgery and after a surgeon was selected, common feedback was some form of, “He seems great…Stanford guy.” You don’t see complication rate, you see educational background. In unknown scenarios, we use status as a proxy to evaluate risk.
Status changes according to the prevailing cultural trends. For centuries, most workers labored under the sun and had little food. Being pale and fat was a status symbol. Now, the modern workplace consists of sitting motionless under fluorescent lights, creating a new status symbol: tan and fit.
Lobster was once known as the “cockroach of the sea”, either used as bait or fed to prisoners. Piling up on New England beaches, their abundance made them worthless. In the mid-1800s, railroads and canning enabled fresh lobster to be distributed across the country, thus increasing demand and flipping its status symbol.
Status only works if it conjures a clear association with elite groups. When brands become too mainstream, they lose their ‘it’ factor. If everyone wore Supreme and went to Harvard, those brands wouldn’t be high status anymore. Exclusivity boosts status.
Sometimes status signaling works backward through counter-signaling. This explains the rise of scumbro fashion popular with celebrities. Some believe they don't have to dress like high-status people because they’re so high status that their status is clear either way.
People are willing to putting status above all else, even money. In a paper led by Berkeley psychologist Cameron Anderson, the authors write:
In a survey of 1,500 office workers, seven out of 10 said they would forego a raise for a higher status job title…The majority of those surveyed believed that other people judged them based on their job title.
In a 1999 interview, Eminem said:
I ain't in this for the money, I'm in here for the respect. If I had a trillion dollars and I fell off, I'd be the most miserable person in the world.
Value depends on perception. And we rarely evaluate on an objective scale. For example, if a man could magically increase his height by 2 inches, I suspect he would. But if every other man grew 3 inches, I doubt he’s taking that deal. He would be taller in absolute terms. But in relative terms, shorter.
From my childhood suburb to my college campus, and beyond — no matter where I found myself in life, a status game was being played. Not only that, but status means different things to different communities. Everyone has a unique view of what it is.
If you are a stock trader, your status is based on the alpha you generate. If you are a marathoner, your status is based on your race results. Context is everything. Traders don’t care about marathon times and runners don’t care about P&L.
In Los Angeles, status is owning a house in the Hills. In San Francisco, it’s owning seed shares in a pre-IPO unicorn.
My ski racer friend is quick to point out flashy gear on the slopes, “Did you see her skis? Those were the new Atomic Redsters.” It doesn't mean much to me, a recreational skier, but that skier’s status immediately rose in my friend’s eyes.
We align our goals to the status game we decide to play. Play the influencer game and social media becomes your priority. Play the active investor game and the stock market becomes your priority. Play the bodybuilding game and image becomes your priority.
Priorities aren’t without tradeoffs. Social media pursuits could lead to a life of vanity. A stock market obsession could impact your social life. Optimizing for body image could damage your mental health. Your pursuit of status ends up controlling you.
Good x Good = Great
Status games are understandably hard to break from. Ignoring them means resisting our basic instincts. But we see how a singular focus on acquiring high status in a domain has pitfalls. Furthermore, research shows that when we acquire status, we fight to protect that status by seeking more. The cycle never ends.
Winning any one status game is a fool’s errand. We can’t fight our natural laws, but we can differentiate. Instead of constructing your identity around one status game, play multiple. In other words, have a few things going for you. Scott Adams popularized a general approach in his blog:
If you want something extraordinary, you have two paths:
1. Become the best at one specific thing.
2. Become very good (top 25%) at two or more things.
Everyone has some areas where they could be in the top 25%. The internet has created thousands of niches where you can become great and be recognized for it.
Building some status in multiple domains is a hedge against changing environments and eras. So while our ancient tribes would’ve preferred Bear Grylls, someone who can build a fire and shelter will certainly live to see another day.
- Sam