This will be a quickie, followed perhaps by a long leisurely, after I’ve heard some of your thoughts. Ellen Goodman, who will be retiring from the Globe shortly, wrote a recent op-ed about shame:
If, as anthropologists say, shame comes from a violation of cultural norms, it seems to have found its match in a newer cultural norm: fame. Notoriety isn’t so notorious anymore. If Hester Prynne were around, she wouldn’t be the subject of a novel, she’d be the author of a tell-all memoir with cellphone pictures of a buff Arthur Dimmesdale.
But enough about sex and shameless. How about money? While Dupre was making her debut, eyes were turned on Wall Street bankers. As President Obama said on “60 Minutes,’’ “I did not run for office to be helping out a bunch of fat-cat bankers.’’ The bankers who were too big to fail took the TARP money, ran, then paid much of it back so they could return to their boffo bonus ways. They are the latest incarnation of CEOs who get paid for nonperformance and masters of the universe convinced they deserve to be on the right side of the escalating pay gap.
When 12 bankers were invited to the White House woodshed Monday, three didn’t make it. Bad weather delayed their flights. Well, I have one word for those bankers: Amtrak.
The impetus for this article was that Ashley Dupre, the sex worker in the Eliot Spitzer scandal, has been given an advice column in the New York Post. To be honest, I have no problem with that. There are no professional certifications to be an advice columnist, and on her first couple of outings, Ms. Dupre doesn’t seem to be doing a half-bad job. I can’t imagine, aside from base prejudice, why anyone who gave it more than a moment’s thought would think a sex worker wouldn’t make a potentially excellent advice columnist.
But although I disagree with Ms. Goodman’s assertion that Ms. Dupre ought to be shamed (presumably by consigning her forever to the profession that she ought to be ashamed of belonging to in the first place?), I do think she’s on to something about those bankers.
But I think she only got half of it right. While bankers, fame pursuers of the likes of the balloon boys’ family and the White House gatecrashers, and Boston drivers, bikers, and pedestrians all seem remarkably immune to shame, contemporary culture does shame many of us.
How many of you feel ashamed because of your weight?
How many of you feel ashamed because you aren’t model-beautiful?
How many of you feel ashamed because you have lost a job?
How many of you feel ashamed because you are not rich?
How many of you feel ashamed because you haz a sick?
How many of you feel ashamed because you “aren’t doing anything” with your degree?
How many of you feel ashamed because you don’t have a degree, or don’t have one from the “right” school?
I’ve finally identified the emotion I feel when people ask me if I’m going to go on “Oprah.” It’s not disappointment. It’s shame. I didn’t make it. I wasn’t successful enough. I’m not Elizabeth Gilbert. How pathetic that I’ve even tried.
I think we do shame people in this culture — or at least, persistent advertising-driven media messages do. We don’t shame them about their morality or effort, but about their bodies, their money, their prestige or lack thereof. And when people actually try to improve their life through real effort as opposed to a gimmick, we tend to shame that, too. Ask a fat person sometime what kind of comments they get when they exercise. (No, exercise won’t necessarily make you thin, but it will improve your life and health.) Ask someone how they feel when they have to say no to TGIF drinks, or stick to water, because they are saving for a house.
It’s not only that we honor the unworthy. We actually shame those who try to better themselves.
Okay, that was a little longer than I thought. But the idea was STILL to hear your thoughts on the topic, not mine! So make with some insights, already, mmkay?
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