Samosas and catching up with a friend yesterday. We walk around in a park afterward, to work off the calories. While we reminisce about old friends and he offers me exaggerated and half-true stories about how he used to kick the class bully's ass, a kid finds that my inconveniently large self has gotten in his way, and decides to try his best to push me away. He obviously enjoys the effort, the examination of physical strength, the show of aggression. We laughed it off then, friend and I, because we are grown up enough to find kids cute. But it set me thinking - I've never been the kind that commands authority.
Perhaps it sounds a little ridiculous that a kid trying to push me out of his way should lead to self-esteem issues, but the truth is, I've always had these self-esteem issues. I've never liked how incapable I am of commanding respect, and I especially hate how I cannot get kids to respect me. It's a harder problem to deal with kids - you can't ignore them, you can't expect even a minimum amount of maturity from them, and you certainly can't beat them up. It's one of the reasons I do not want this whole career-marriage-children deal for myself. It's not me. I could never raise kids right.
But this isn't just about kids. Let me explain.
I woke up this morning from a surprisingly coherent dream (or rather, I should say, that I was surprisingly coherent *in* the dream). I was with an interview panel who wanted to know what my opinion was about student leaders in college. I said something like this:
"My opinion on this issue is as follows: while one may be tempted to pick a candidate for a formal leadership post on the basis of academic achievement or perceived intelligence, these are not necessarily the leaders that students will naturally respond to. Leaders emerge naturally among students, people who naturally dominate others...."
At this point I woke up, and immediately began to think about William Golding's
Lord of the Flies. I read the book about a couple of months back, and my copy was seemingly intended for schoolchildren (and if that were the case, wouldn't it be like telling people in POW camps stories about other people in POW camps?). Anyway, the edition actually had chapter summaries at the end, and one of them blabbered with familiar and schoolteacher-ish eloquence about how Golding was attempting to demonstrate that some kind of order and leadership was necessary to civilization.
Rubbish, I thought. IMHO, what Golding attempted to demonstrate was leadership emerges not through ability or intelligence, but through sheer aggression and dominance. Some people have naturally dominant personalities, and others have naturally submissive personalities (or perhaps, in the light what
foot_notes has to say, some people develop dominant personalities at an early age, while others fail to). Those with dominant personalities rarely know what is best for the group. And those who know what is best for the group are rarely taken seriously. A bunch of schoolboys without adult authority demonstrates this best, but these lessons also hold true for adults in general.
(Of course, I do not hold that those who are not aggressive know what is best for the group, or that there is some kind of connection between competence and aggression. Rather, I believe good sense and aggression are independent, and although not mutually exclusive, are rarely found together in the same person. On the other hand, stupidity and submissiveness might be found much more easily in the same person - it is simply the case that both stupidity and submissiveness are far more common than their opposites)
When reading the book, I decided that I was most like Piggy. OK, I wasn't the brightest in school, but I was like that in college. Among the smartest but least popular kids in class. No one took me seriously, perhaps because I was too regular to class. But I learned in college that the game of bullying and alpha male monkeys does not end with school. In college, things are more subtle. People assert themselves by making seemingly friendly but aggressive jokes. Groups form naturally, and leaders emerge with a disgusting inevitability.
I think what Golding sought to demonstrate was that ultimately, the human species is incapable of governing itself. It is because we rarely choose the most sensible leaders. Instead we choose leaders with charisma, aggression and an
innate talent to mobilise others. Sometimes, these leaders actually have a great deal of sense in them, and we get lucky. But more often than not, we choose the wrong leaders.
I don't know what made me post this not-so-insightful piece now. I guess I was bored. Also, I've been wondering to what extent democracy (or indeed, economics) can dilute this human tendency.