amicus
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 28, 2003
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For the few 'downunders' on Lit, I thought you might enjoy, amicus...
Other Voices
Martha and the Tall Poppies
by Robert Tracinski
January 12, 2004
As the Martha Stewart case finally goes to trial, it is clear that Ms. Stewart has already been convicted in the court of public opinion.
Observe the undisguised delight with which reporters and pundits describe the prospect of seeing Stewart hauled up before the courts. Listen to the constant stream of jokes about jail cells with matching curtains—the malicious glee of news anchors and commentators contemplating the idea of Martha Stewart behind bars, before any of the evidence against her has been formally presented.
Then ask yourself: Why do so many people have a reflexive hatred of Martha Stewart? How has a home-decorating expert with a wholesome public persona come to be regarded as a major cultural villain?
The answer: Martha is hated because she's a tall poppy.
There is a notorious saying in Australia: "You have to cut down the tall poppies." In other words, anyone who dares to poke his head above the crowd must be attacked, denigrated, and brought down to the common level. I don't know whether this "Tall Poppy Syndrome," as it is called, is really typical of Australian culture, but it is a widespread trend in American culture—and Martha Stewart has long been one of its favorite targets.
Long before she was accused of insider trading, Martha-hatred was already an established industry peddled in dozens of books and television profiles purporting to reveal Stewart as a shrewish employer, a neglectful mother, a cold wife, an ungrateful daughter, and everything else you could dream up. One charge keeps recurring as the central thread—and real motive—of all these claims: Martha is too perfect. The problem with Martha Stewart, we are told, is that the lifestyle she promotes in her books, magazines, and television shows projects an "unattainable" perfection. Her kitchen is too clean, her house is too beautiful, her parties are too elegant. She gets too much done in a day. Such perfection, the charge goes, merely makes everyone else feel inadequate because they can't measure up.
This attitude is not shared by Martha's many fans (and customers), even those whose housekeeping is not as lavish as hers. Most people are able to appreciate the accomplishments of others, even if they cannot match them. But for those who suffer from Tall Poppy Syndrome, other people's achievements are an affront, an intolerable reminder of their own shortcomings. These are the people who desperately search for dirt to sling at celebrities, to show that they aren't so good after all—and who rush to join any witch hunt.
The Martha Stewart prosecution is a case study in the Tall Poppy Syndrome.
Consider the arbitrary nature of the charges against Stewart, which include the non-crime of "insider trading." The initial accusation against Stewart was that she was tipped by her broker that ImClone executives were selling the company's stock. This "inside information" supposedly gave Stewart an "unfair" advantage. In a "fair" world, apparently, investors are forced to hold on to their stock even when they know it's going to crash. Martha's alleged "crime" is not wanting to lose money.
But even the evidence for this pseudo-crime is thin—which is why federal prosecutors did not actually indict Stewart on criminal insider-trading charges. Instead, she is on trial for lying to prosecutors (about a crime they can't prove she committed). More ominously, she is on trial for the mere act of publicly proclaiming her innocence—a declaration protected by the Fifth Amendment, but described by prosecutors as a "fraud" against her shareholders.
Stewart's lawyers suggest she is being targeted because she is a successful woman in a "man's world." But ask Bill Gates what kind of welcome a successful man can expect today. In fact, both are the target of a deeper hatred.
The basis for this hatred is not mere envy, but a moral code that makes that ugly emotion seem legitimate: the morality of altruism. We have been told for centuries that the weak, the incompetent, the most down-and-out bums on the street are the most worthy objects of our moral concern—while the highest achievers are at best the bum's servants, at worst his exploiters. The result is an upside-down morality, a code in which the better you are, the worse you are. The more you achieve, the more you are hated.
This hatred of the good is not merely ugly; it is destructive. A culture that attacks its highest achievers will mow down its tall poppies—and end up with nothing but weeds.
Other Voices
Martha and the Tall Poppies
by Robert Tracinski
January 12, 2004
As the Martha Stewart case finally goes to trial, it is clear that Ms. Stewart has already been convicted in the court of public opinion.
Observe the undisguised delight with which reporters and pundits describe the prospect of seeing Stewart hauled up before the courts. Listen to the constant stream of jokes about jail cells with matching curtains—the malicious glee of news anchors and commentators contemplating the idea of Martha Stewart behind bars, before any of the evidence against her has been formally presented.
Then ask yourself: Why do so many people have a reflexive hatred of Martha Stewart? How has a home-decorating expert with a wholesome public persona come to be regarded as a major cultural villain?
The answer: Martha is hated because she's a tall poppy.
There is a notorious saying in Australia: "You have to cut down the tall poppies." In other words, anyone who dares to poke his head above the crowd must be attacked, denigrated, and brought down to the common level. I don't know whether this "Tall Poppy Syndrome," as it is called, is really typical of Australian culture, but it is a widespread trend in American culture—and Martha Stewart has long been one of its favorite targets.
Long before she was accused of insider trading, Martha-hatred was already an established industry peddled in dozens of books and television profiles purporting to reveal Stewart as a shrewish employer, a neglectful mother, a cold wife, an ungrateful daughter, and everything else you could dream up. One charge keeps recurring as the central thread—and real motive—of all these claims: Martha is too perfect. The problem with Martha Stewart, we are told, is that the lifestyle she promotes in her books, magazines, and television shows projects an "unattainable" perfection. Her kitchen is too clean, her house is too beautiful, her parties are too elegant. She gets too much done in a day. Such perfection, the charge goes, merely makes everyone else feel inadequate because they can't measure up.
This attitude is not shared by Martha's many fans (and customers), even those whose housekeeping is not as lavish as hers. Most people are able to appreciate the accomplishments of others, even if they cannot match them. But for those who suffer from Tall Poppy Syndrome, other people's achievements are an affront, an intolerable reminder of their own shortcomings. These are the people who desperately search for dirt to sling at celebrities, to show that they aren't so good after all—and who rush to join any witch hunt.
The Martha Stewart prosecution is a case study in the Tall Poppy Syndrome.
Consider the arbitrary nature of the charges against Stewart, which include the non-crime of "insider trading." The initial accusation against Stewart was that she was tipped by her broker that ImClone executives were selling the company's stock. This "inside information" supposedly gave Stewart an "unfair" advantage. In a "fair" world, apparently, investors are forced to hold on to their stock even when they know it's going to crash. Martha's alleged "crime" is not wanting to lose money.
But even the evidence for this pseudo-crime is thin—which is why federal prosecutors did not actually indict Stewart on criminal insider-trading charges. Instead, she is on trial for lying to prosecutors (about a crime they can't prove she committed). More ominously, she is on trial for the mere act of publicly proclaiming her innocence—a declaration protected by the Fifth Amendment, but described by prosecutors as a "fraud" against her shareholders.
Stewart's lawyers suggest she is being targeted because she is a successful woman in a "man's world." But ask Bill Gates what kind of welcome a successful man can expect today. In fact, both are the target of a deeper hatred.
The basis for this hatred is not mere envy, but a moral code that makes that ugly emotion seem legitimate: the morality of altruism. We have been told for centuries that the weak, the incompetent, the most down-and-out bums on the street are the most worthy objects of our moral concern—while the highest achievers are at best the bum's servants, at worst his exploiters. The result is an upside-down morality, a code in which the better you are, the worse you are. The more you achieve, the more you are hated.
This hatred of the good is not merely ugly; it is destructive. A culture that attacks its highest achievers will mow down its tall poppies—and end up with nothing but weeds.
