Come On. Do It. You Know You Want To.
Recently, a friend introduced me to something he called the conformity instinct; that is to say our tendency as humans to align ourselves with our fellow humans. To speak like they speak, to wear what they wear, think like they think. Do. What. They. Do. He only mentioned the idea casually, but I have held on to it. I've been thinking a lot about it.
Of course, the idea is a familiar one and nauseating. I am a globally conscious American woman in my (almost mid-) thirties. It's clear to me that a terrifying Starbucks/Wal-Mart/Costco/strip-mall culture is taking over our way of life. It's appalling. Everyone knows that.
So it occurs to me, as it should to you if you are following along (so to speak) that most independent-minded people (or at least those of us who like to think ourselves independent) consider this label (conformity instinct) and probably on some level conclude that their own conformity instinct is slightly off-kilter, perhaps because they're just weird or because they've never really cared or because they've never really fit in, anyway. I'm betting that this is the category in which most people believe they fit. Because who wants to admit to being a follower? Ironically, whoever did would be quite the nonconformist, would they not? But I digress.
The conformity instinct: at its most basic, humans have an inherent desire to fit in. Consider the Hummer, if you will. I can imagine no better example of peer pressure run amuck. You can get the one you see here for a cool $128,000. Have we lost our minds?
As for whether the conformity instinct is really instinct or not, what about cave men? Did those who blended in last longer? Were those hanging out on the fringe or traveling on the outskirts of the pack eaten first? I'm guessing yes. Thus, strip malls may be simply the latest (and OK, possibly the most obnoxious second only to the Hummer) symbol of our survival, of our evolution as humans. Ugly perhaps, but they're still here because we continue to patronize these places in between soapbox tirades about them. I’ve heard you ranting:
And at its most obvious, recall your youth. Most kids are desperate to fit in with the right crowd, whatever that crowd happens to be for them. More irony: most of the time, angst-ridden juveniles fit in most easily by demonstrating a single-minded unwillingness to conform. They work very hard to declare their nonconformity so as to achieve acceptance by their preferred group of nonconformists. It's exhausting.
When I think about junior high and high school, I remember liking some people a great deal and wanting even more to be liked in return by them, but I can't really say that I REMEMBER them. I can remember a few faces and hairstyles but the first and last names of people I likely obsessed over twenty years ago escape me now. Who do I remember?
I remember Nathan Bruso*. He had shiny little eyes and greasy messed-up hair, made bad grades and for whatever reason, did not fit in.
I remember Cynthia Everett* who was very smart and overweight and very heckled for various reasons most of the time. She did not fit in.
I remember Glenn Welch* who was very "weird" and very well-read and was said to only wear clothes from Good Will. He did not fit in.
Whether they cared or not about fitting in, I don't know. They probably would say they did not. (See previous paragraph regarding off-kilter conformity instinct and self-assessment of same.)
But you know what – I liked these kids. Really. Given the chance today to talk to one of them or our senior year’s prom king or queen (and I have know idea who they were), I’d opt for the misfits.
But maybe that’s simply the right answer. Sure, I'd opt for the misfits. That's precisely what I have to say as I approach my 35th birthday. That’s the mature thing, isn’t it? So I guess that’s what I’d do. I mean, everybody's doing it.
____________________
* I admit that I’m an idiot because if I'm remembering correctly, these are their real names. But who’d complain? I have nothing bad to say about these people; quite the contrary...
Of course, the idea is a familiar one and nauseating. I am a globally conscious American woman in my (almost mid-) thirties. It's clear to me that a terrifying Starbucks/Wal-Mart/Costco/strip-mall culture is taking over our way of life. It's appalling. Everyone knows that.
So it occurs to me, as it should to you if you are following along (so to speak) that most independent-minded people (or at least those of us who like to think ourselves independent) consider this label (conformity instinct) and probably on some level conclude that their own conformity instinct is slightly off-kilter, perhaps because they're just weird or because they've never really cared or because they've never really fit in, anyway. I'm betting that this is the category in which most people believe they fit. Because who wants to admit to being a follower? Ironically, whoever did would be quite the nonconformist, would they not? But I digress.
The conformity instinct: at its most basic, humans have an inherent desire to fit in. Consider the Hummer, if you will. I can imagine no better example of peer pressure run amuck. You can get the one you see here for a cool $128,000. Have we lost our minds? As for whether the conformity instinct is really instinct or not, what about cave men? Did those who blended in last longer? Were those hanging out on the fringe or traveling on the outskirts of the pack eaten first? I'm guessing yes. Thus, strip malls may be simply the latest (and OK, possibly the most obnoxious second only to the Hummer) symbol of our survival, of our evolution as humans. Ugly perhaps, but they're still here because we continue to patronize these places in between soapbox tirades about them. I’ve heard you ranting:
"They’re absolutely hideous. EVERYBODY says so..."
And at its most obvious, recall your youth. Most kids are desperate to fit in with the right crowd, whatever that crowd happens to be for them. More irony: most of the time, angst-ridden juveniles fit in most easily by demonstrating a single-minded unwillingness to conform. They work very hard to declare their nonconformity so as to achieve acceptance by their preferred group of nonconformists. It's exhausting.
When I think about junior high and high school, I remember liking some people a great deal and wanting even more to be liked in return by them, but I can't really say that I REMEMBER them. I can remember a few faces and hairstyles but the first and last names of people I likely obsessed over twenty years ago escape me now. Who do I remember?
I remember Nathan Bruso*. He had shiny little eyes and greasy messed-up hair, made bad grades and for whatever reason, did not fit in.
I remember Cynthia Everett* who was very smart and overweight and very heckled for various reasons most of the time. She did not fit in.
I remember Glenn Welch* who was very "weird" and very well-read and was said to only wear clothes from Good Will. He did not fit in.
Whether they cared or not about fitting in, I don't know. They probably would say they did not. (See previous paragraph regarding off-kilter conformity instinct and self-assessment of same.)
But you know what – I liked these kids. Really. Given the chance today to talk to one of them or our senior year’s prom king or queen (and I have know idea who they were), I’d opt for the misfits.
But maybe that’s simply the right answer. Sure, I'd opt for the misfits. That's precisely what I have to say as I approach my 35th birthday. That’s the mature thing, isn’t it? So I guess that’s what I’d do. I mean, everybody's doing it.
____________________
* I admit that I’m an idiot because if I'm remembering correctly, these are their real names. But who’d complain? I have nothing bad to say about these people; quite the contrary...
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