It doesn’t matter if people like me, so long as they respect me.
We’ve likely heard this phrase before.
It’s a statement of priorities. A clear proclamation of what we stand for, when push comes to shove.
But it also has an underlying manifesto.
That manifesto claims that popularity is childish. That currying for favor only serves to compromise our integrity.
It’s better to act within our character, this philosophy claims. That way, we will remain respected, even by those unlikely to cheer us on.
And with that respect comes synergy. Others can work with us and for us, without the destructive patterns of overt subversion.
There are many figures in our society who treat this philosophy as gospel. Figures who espouse a degree of authority.
School teachers. Military commanders. Sports coaches. Mafia bosses.
And while I have far less influence than any of these figures, I tend to espouse the same philosophy.
I don’t concern myself with how many people like me or loathe me. I don’t think I’m greatest thing since sliced bread, so why does it matter whether others do?
It’s far more important to me that I am treated with respect. That others give me the benefit of the doubt and provide me the opportunity to deliver on the promises I make.
I’ve long managed my life this way. While others have expanded their social circles for camaraderie and companionship, I’ve generally expanded mine exclusively to discover new opportunities to prove myself. While others yearn to be the life of the party, I seek to be just visible enough that I don’t get trampled.
Let the social butterflies bask in the glow of adulation, I say. Trust is the catnip for my soul.
While I won’t win any popularity contests this way, I don’t feel I need to. So long as I maintain my dignity, I will continue to move forward.
Yet, this philosophy I cherish appears to have hit a dead end. For no matter how much I try and deny it, two words ring true.
Favorability matters.
In a world that changes by the minute, there seem to be few ideals that can be classified as timeless.
Beauty and personality are among those few.
These concepts appear in some of the earliest literature, including the Bible. And some of the most powerful examples of them can be found in Homer’s epic The Odyssey.
The Odyssey is one of the greatest travel narratives of human history. It follows Odysseus as he sails back from the conquest of Troy, running into exotic adventures each time the wind changes direction.
One of the most poignant challenges Odysseus faces comes when he nears the Sirens — beautiful women who sing in harmonic voices. The beauty of the Sirens has lured many a seafarer off-course, causing their ships to splinter on the rocky coast and their crew to perish.
Odysseus has heard rumors of the lethal danger of the Sirens, but he is too charismatic to chart a new course to avoid them. He wants to hear their songs and live to tell others about them.
So, Odysseus orders his crew to chain him to the ship’s mast. And he fills the ears of the crew members with wax, so that they may not be led astray by the divine voices as they sail by.
Thanks to these preparations, Odysseus hears the Siren Song and doesn’t pay for the experience with his life — or the lives of his crewmembers.
He survives to tell the tale. And Millenia later, we still love him for it.
Odysseus’ Siren adventure demonstrates why beauty and personality are timeless. For they can spice up just about any story. And we’re addicted to stories.
The problem is that beauty and personality have been used in countless stories since the Odyssey. They’ve become staples of narrative, gradually conditioning us to the fallacy that good looks and a powerful personality are the keys to success.
This is a myth — a vain and shallow one, at that. But it’s a myth we fully believe in.
So, we aspire to be the cool kid in our school. We spend hours of effort to look our best. And we read How to Make Friends and Influence People in order to fine-tune our personality.
All to achieve the Holy Grail of reverence, and the social status that comes with it.
Yes, being likeable is a societal prerequisite these days.
Favorability matters.
Our bias toward likability has its benefits.
It elevates connection in our society. It promotes friendliness. And it reminds us to do the right thing.
These attributes are a package deal. After all, morality and decency are prerequisites for favorability. Throughout humanity, we’ve found jerks and tyrants repulsive.
But while favorability brings out the best in us on a macro level, the finer details are far less rosy.
For we are a diverse set of people who like many different things. And this divergence of favorability has led directly to the polarization infesting our culture.
If there are some who like our views and tastes, it safe to assume there are others who loathe us for the same qualities.
There is no escaping this quandary. If we take a neutral position and become our own private Switzerland, we end up marginalized and forgotten.
We find ourselves barred from opportunities where likeability is a prerequisite. Which these days is just about any opportunity.
This is hopelessly discouraging to those of us who would rather be struck by lightning than pander to the crowd.
For it proves that merit means next to nothing. That we have far less control over our destiny than we’d like to believe.
Yes, all too often, the doors to our success are manned by others. Others who have the discretion to let us in or keep us out.
If these gatekeepers like us, our window of opportunity remains open. If not, we have no chance.
While we do our best to influence that perception, the truth of the matter is we ultimately do not have control over it. Our destiny is out of our hands, hanging tenuously on a single attribute.
Favorability matters.
With this in mind, what should we do?
Should we build a persona? Should we try and be the person others adore, even if it makes us feel hollow inside?
Should we let it ride? Should we maintain our authenticity and take advantage of whatever opportunities come from it.
I’m honestly not sure. I don’t have the right answer, because I don’t believe there is one.
I’ve seen various approaches work in certain cases. And I’ve seen them go down in flames in others.
So, your mileage may vary.
It’s on you to tinker. To experiment and determine what works best for you.
But no matter what approach you take, keep one thing in mind.
Favorability matters. Proceed wisely.