The Achilles Effect

I have come to the conclusion in recent years that the underlying existential malaise by which most people in the industrialised West are beset is insecurity. This is the apprehension - ranging in intensity from a nagging doubt to debilitating paranoia - that we are somehow not good enough, that we don’t measure up to expectations, that we are wasting our potential and are not sufficiently accomplished or successful. It is the desire for recognition, both in terms of acknowledgement from the rest of the world, as well as the signposts of that acknowledgement - material goods and wealth - that indicate we have fulfilled the expectations of others and been rewarded accordingly.

In its simplest form, this insecurity is the mistake of living in a state of dependency; that is, of being dependent on the regard of other people. It is the addiction of measurement and comparison: if we have achieved x, then we should receive y in return; and if this formula does not come about, then we have somehow “failed”. Moreover, we have not only “failed” in our own terms, we have “failed” in comparison to others. That is, compared to the accolades and accomplishments and material rewards which we imagine signify the “achievement” or “worth” of others when compared to ourselves.

Of course, this is not to say that it isn’t pleasant being well-regarded, or possessing a measure of financial security or material comfort. The problem is, however, that we tend to see these things not in terms of “goods” whose “value” is limited to and in themselves, but as somehow possessing a “value” which is indicative of our “worth” as human beings. Therefore, if we are not well-regarded, if our achievements don’t attract acclaim and recognition, if we don’t attain the material and financial indicators of success, we imagine that this is somehow a reflection on both our character as individuals and our quality as human beings. Thus, achieving an objective for its own sake is insufficient; unless the achievement coincides with wealth, or acclaim - or, preferably, both - we hold ourselves as somehow deficient.

This is not a modern phenomenon, but I do think it has been greatly intensified as a consequence of the immediacy of modern communications technology, and the vast wealth to be attained because of the scope and scale of the industrialised global economy. I forget who said it, but a quote I heard in my teens has stayed with me ever since: a genuinely technological society is one in which every new invention is immediately superseded. I think a similar thing has occurred within the sphere of human achievement. Whereas previously, it was only within the remit of the relatively few educated elites to achieve any significant measure of fame (or notoriety), this opportunity has now extended, by virtue of mass education and technical literacy, to the bulk of the population. Moreover, because there is such a sheer mass of means by which “ordinary” people can became famous or infamous, the durability of any noteworthiness they might achieve has become similarly brittle. The five minutes of fame have been whittled down to thirty seconds - if you’re lucky.

Moreover, it now appears as though fame or notoriety need not rest on achievement, but on publicity - that is, the ability to put oneself before, and promote oneself to, a mass audience that acts as a consumer of the “product” of the self. The transience of pop groups, for example, the proliferation of “one hit wonders” who are essentially manufactured for the purpose of releasing a single song or album targeted toward a particular consumer group, and who then disappear forever, are indicative of this condition of perpetual cultural vagrancy. There are innumerable other examples.

Ironically, it appears that permanence of achievement now largely occurs in those fields where there is virtually no media coverage, or only a limited - or non-mainstream - “consumer” audience. Science, literature (“pop“ literature excluded), the performing arts (Hollywood "blockbusters" aside), and sports without a mass media coverage all fall within this category. Because the pressure for constant publicity and “achievement” to sustain both media and audience interest is absent, the practitioners within these fields tend to produce a sustained record of achievement over long periods; the actual “incidents” of achievement may be widely separated in time, but the overall record is impressive in both its duration and output.

But this is precisely the kind of process that is both repellent to the ratings-driven media, and unsatisfactory in terms of helping most people cope with the problem of insecurity. And that's because the people who both operate and consume the products of media tend to be extremely short-term in their thinking. Achievement is not important; immediacy is. Now is the thing. Forget what is coming over the horizon; it hasn’t happened yet. Forget what is in the past; it is irrelevant. True existence occurs only in the present.

Which brings us back to the problem of insecurity, a malaise that essentially arises because we confound the present for the future and demand today what we hope for tomorrow. And if we can’t achieve this impossibility, if we can’t have now those things which others have attained through hard work or good luck in the past, we assume that there is “something wrong” with us, that we have somehow “failed”. In a cultural environment in which fame or notoriety are substituted for achievement, everybody wants to be “somebody”, to have somehow left an imprint on society, no matter how fleeting or ephemeral. Even if it means behaving like a prat or exposing our genitals on a nationally televised “reality” TV program, this is preferable to having been a “nobody”.

I call this the Achilles Effect. In Greek mythology, Achilles’ was given a choice: either a long and prosperous life, after which he would be forgotten; or a short, glorious life, and everlasting fame after death. He chose the latter, and after a brief existence spent slaughtering innumerable hapless opponents, was killed before the walls of Troy. This seems to be the choice that people increasingly make today: fleeting, even ephemeral “fame” in preference to anonymity, because they somehow equate fame with worth. But they are kidding themselves: just as Achilles spent his whole life spreading misery and destruction, only to fall senselessly in someone else’s war, so the modern-day wannabes discover that even fame cannot quench their sense of insecurity; once their moment in the sun has passed, the anxiety remains, the thirst is unslaked. The answer to insecurity lies not where they sought it, but within themselves; unfortunately, they have expended their inner reserves chasing a phantom.

And the impact of the Achilles Effect? In his seminal book, The Psychopathic Mind (Jason Aronson Inc, Northvale, 1988), J Reid Meloy makes the following, chilling observation: It is my impression, and fear, that psychopathy, and psychopathic disturbance, is a growing clinical and therefore sociocultural phenomenon...I cite (the) higher proportion of stranger homicides in the past decade...and the increasing incidence of serial murder in the past several decades...(Researchers suggest) that children reared in a predominantly image-based, nonlinear, multimedia, briefly attentive society may not develop the deeper, unconscious levels of identity and meaning and therefore manifest a low level of empathy and a higher level of generalized anxiety. (p. 6-7, parenthesis inserted).

Achilles was a psychopath; the last thing we need is to be breeding a generation of latter-day equivalents.

Talk to you soon,

BB

Quote for the day: Nature's wants are small, while those of opinion are limitless. (Seneca)