The Snark | The Crushing Weight of Keeping Up with the Joneses

...and Keeping Up with Everyone Else

Let’s talk status - you know, that little thing that defines your worth in the eyes of others. It’s not just about having power, respect, or access to resources, though. No, no - it’s all about making sure people see you as having those things. Why be rich if no one knows about it, right?

What may surprise you is that I can connect status and status signaling to political polarization - oh yes, we're going there - and a book called Culture and Consumption, which, in case you were wondering, has a concept called buyer’s remorse. Has anyone here ever bought something because you thought it would make you feel better about your status, or because it was, like, totally you - only to find out it’s a total disappointment? Yeah, I thought so.

Here’s the deal: when people flaunt their achievements, possessions, or social affiliations, they’re basically saying, “Hey, I’m valuable! I’m worth your attention and admiration!” But here’s the kicker - people don’t just have status. They exaggerate it, because they think doing so will lead to more power, respect, and resources. It's like a weird social version of the "more is more" mentality, only with things.

Enter social media, the grand stage of modern status signaling. Now, you can showcase your perfect life for everyone to see, and then - surprise! - you get more followers, more likes, more validation. But here’s where it gets messy: exaggerating your status (read: pretending to have your life together) only works if it feels real to other people. We all have a social radar - and if you’re faking it, we’ll catch you.

The problem? Trying to keep up with the status game is exhausting. Always performing, always projecting - it’s emotionally draining. You're constantly on the cusp of being exposed as a fake, and that fear can cause major anxiety. Social media amplifies this cycle, especially on dating apps or LinkedIn, where algorithms reward you for dating or networking with in-demand people. But here’s the ugly truth: status doesn’t always deliver. You might think buying a fancy car, an old kettle (thanks, McCracken), or a new vacation spot will bring you closer to your ideal life, but in reality, you’ll just return to your baseline level of happiness after a few weeks. Hedonic adaptation, folks. It's the cycle of buying into status, only to find that it doesn't fill the gap you expected.

For people on the lower rungs of the status ladder, the pressure to perform, to signal worth, can be crushing. Social invisibility, financial strain, and psychological burnout are all common side effects. When your value is measured by things like followers, possessions, and career titles, it’s easy to feel like you're always falling short. And the worst part? The cycle of chasing status is hard to escape.

It all comes back to status: who has it, who’s signaling it, and who’s faking it. And in the process, we're all just trying to figure out who we are - based on what we own, where we’re seen, and who we're connected to. Meanwhile, we’re all exhausted. So, maybe it’s time to stop playing the game - or at least start asking: is this really who I want to be, or just who I want to be seen as?

How to Write Characters Who Fake It 'Til They Break It

For writers, delving into the status of your characters is like opening a can of emotional worms - because nothing says compelling drama like watching someone desperately try to look successful while their internal crisis spirals out of control. Think about where your characters are in terms of status - not just their fancy job title or designer wardrobe, but how miserable they are inside, desperately pretending they’ve got it all together. Maybe they’re buying an expensive watch they can’t afford, not because they need to tell the time, but because they want the world to think they’ve got their life in order. Spoiler: they don’t.

Exaggerating status can be your plot’s best friend, even if it means watching your character drown in their own performance anxiety. They might buy a fancy car, book an extravagant trip, or start pretending they’re the kind of person who drinks overpriced cocktails at exclusive rooftop bars. But then the emotional fallout kicks in - self-doubt, guilt, and regret all make cameo appearances as they realize they’re not just faking it for others, they’re faking it for themselves. This is where you get to subtly signal all that juicy internal conflict.

You don’t need to shout it out loud - just show them nervously glancing at that watch, or cringing every time someone asks about their “latest trip” to Bali. That watch isn’t just a luxury item anymore; it’s a shiny little reminder of their emotional bankruptcy. Go ahead - show it, don’t just tell it, because we all know the best way to build a character is by making them as uncomfortable as possible.

The Snark