When we think about the term “self-made” we usually associate it with a semi-apocryphal Horatio Alger story of how a rich man made himself rich. But the reality is that bootstrap narratives are just one kind of self-making practice and, as our culture has come to prize self-making to an ever greater degree, they represent a smaller minority.
For this reason, as social scientists have grown more interested in the phenomenon, they have coined a synonymous term for it, “self-fashioning,” to refer to all social practices of seeing one’s reputation and image as something one primarily owns and controls, oneself.
While I am a highly attention-seeking person, I am not a self-fashioner probably because I am a lousy actor and am incapable of pretending to be anyone other than myself for any extended period of time. But I would also like to think that, like most reasonably well-adjusted people, I do not believe in self-fashioning as a practice nor in a worldviews that validate and underpin those practices.
The reality is that who we are to other people is something they own; we do not own other people’s thoughts and opinions about us. They are part of them, not us. Our identities are what I typically term “intersubjective.” Needless to say, I have spilled a fair bit of ink attacking the way Genderwang pronoun politics are a direct assault on that intersubjectivity, by arguing that our opinions about other people are part of them, not part of us. This is even framed in the discourse of “rights,” in which supposedly I have the right to be talked about by third parties in ways consistent with my self-image and to stop them talking about me in ways inconsistent with who I think I am.
But Genderwang is the exception, at least for now, in that most self-fashioning projects are not backed up by the long arm of the law or the threat of unemployment and public shaming. Most self-fashioning projects are conducted primarily through acts of persuasion, acting and, most relevant to this essay series, relocation.
We need look no further than the Gospels to see what an important tool urbanization is in the self-fashioner’s toolbox. When Jesus visits his home town of Nazareth, no one there will believe he is the Son of God or the Messiah; they won’t even believe he is a competent exorcist or interpreter of scripture. “And he said, ‘Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in his hometown.’” Luke 4:24. In other words, no one who watched you grow up is going to be convinced of your new special identity.
In healthy societies, prophets and other sorts of self-fashioners are few and far between. But, as Monty Python so brilliantly observed in The Life of Brian half a century ago, the culture of the New Left shares with Judea and Samaria in the era of Jesus, John the Baptist, Dositheus and Simon Magus a culture generative of self-fashioning projects.
In most healthy societies, who people think you are is not something people believe they have much of a choice about. Especially in village-based societies, your identity just naturally accretes to you. People form an idea of who you are based on their shared experiences with you, the associates you surround yourself with, the work you do to make a living. You discover who you are as people develop expectations about you, tell stories about you, confer nicknames on you. Your identity is not something you make but something you co-discover with the people around you.
In societies and subcultures where self-fashioning is more acceptable and valued as a behaviour, it tends to produce certain kinds of social morbidities. If you believe that who you are as a person can be and should be controllable by acts of persuasion, manipulation and/or coercion, people tend to have a more fragile, defensive sense of self. By conflating who one is with who one is considered to be and then stating that this is something one both can and should primarily control, one produces people who are less honest and more fragile, especially when we decide that our reputations are owned not by everyone but us but by ourselves.
Such societies often become obsessed with social rank and categorization, like the eighteenth century Spanish Empire, in which the empire’s original four racial categories mushroomed into dozens. Such societies also generate more complex and coercive systems of etiquette in which people are punished for such things as incorrect forms of address and levels of grammatical formality. They also tend to be prone to the pursuit of personal vendettas based around putative injuries to one’s social body, a kind of social system we call “honour culture,” in which the infliction of physical or financial damage is viewed as a reasonable and commensurate reaction to acts perceived as reputational assaults.
Those most committed to creating and burnishing their self-made reputations are naturally going to be over-represented among intolerant urbanizers. Not only does urbanization make self-fashioning possible; the very way intolerant urbanizers is part of the self-fashioning project in that it reifies the character, the nature of the place they have moved and then fuses that reified nature with the self. For the intolerant urbanizer, moving to a city like Victoria or Nelson is not just about getting to reset one’s reputation; it is about deciding that their new city embodies a laudable characteristic, like healthy living or a high THC tolerance, a characteristic they admire or aspire to and wish to incorporate into the self they are fashioning.
Furthermore, intolerant urbanizers are often genuinely escaping communities lacking in tolerance, diversity and heterodoxy. But while this means, on one hand, that they prize their own freedom from the confines of their former community, it also means that they have been raised with the habits of mind of an intolerant villager, habits to which they may naturally revert when stressed or confused.
For many years, cities have been awash in self-fashioning urbanizers with few adverse social effects. And, on the streets of our cities, aside from compulsory Pharma Pride signage and regalia, there is little immediately visible sign of our emerging intolerant urban honour culture. The modern phenomenon of the intolerant urbanizer is mitigated, opposed even, by the intrinsically cosmopolitan nature of urban space, with different sorts of people pushed together onto the same streets, into the same stores, the same government offices, etc.
It is primarily the synergistic effects of social media technologies and the rise of neo-McCarthyism that have transformed merely fragile self-fashioners into the backbone of the new urban intolerance. The politics of neo-McCarthyism is one profoundly concerned with questions of purity, pollution and contagion. I am not exceptional in that what actually triggered my cancelation was my defense of a canceled person. The sole demand of a cancelation campaign is for people to sever all social links to the object of the campaign lest they themselves become infected, polluted.
By giving their subscribers the ability, for free, to police this new politics of purity and pollution, to monitor, minute-to-minute the “friends,” and “followers” of those they know, Facebook, Twitter and their ilk have made possible forms of exclusion and ostracism inconceivable on the sidewalk of a cosmopolitan city but possible through the data networks covering that city. Worse than the “friends” lists are the photos. Appearing in photographs with me or other canceled people on Instagram or Facebook is socially costly to progressives because photos are indicative of a genuine social connection and ongoing relationship.
For self-fashioners, the consequences of one’s carefully curated public image being polluted, contaminated, goes beyond the material risks of cancelation. Not only does your reputation change against your will, the control over that reputation that you have carefully developed over years vanishes. It is not merely that your identity changes into one you like less; the control you exert over that identity is immediately and permanently diminished, undermining not just your current self-fashioning project but any future acts of self-fashioning.
It is not as much out of a greater commitment to progressive orthodoxy that intolerant urbanizers are the leaders in creating a new, more intolerant urban social contract as it is out of a greater fear on the part of this group. But because fear is the greatest chameleon of emotions, they can hide that fear behind acts of performative outrage.
Essentially, our social media has villagized, in unprecedented ways, key aspects of the urban social contract, just as it has urbanized, in equally unprecedented ways key aspects of rural social contracts. And so, what we are seeing in our newly intolerant cities, is the Janus face of Marshall McLuhan’s “global village.”
