Thief
Envy, as we saw last week, can cause unhappiness. But envy (or its even more evil sibling jealousy1) is only the surface expression of something deeper: comparison. To envy someone, we compare ourselves to that person and find ourselves lacking in whatever trait or possession we’re interested in.
Imagine living in a world where we are constantly bombarded with images and videos of people doing ‘better’ than us in every conceivable way.
Wait. We are in such a world.
Awkward.
When I articulated the Millenial curse, I suggested that one of its roots was the ubiquity of social media, not because social media is intrinsically bad (I don’t think it is), but because it makes comparison unavoidable. I wrote:
Being the smartest young adult in your college class or the best athlete in your local gym was no longer good enough for early adult Millennials. No, we had the whole world to compare ourselves to and we were inevitably left feeling lacking when we scrolled through endless feeds of (hyperrealistic) filtered realities we could never compete with as we tried - and still try - to build a life.
We look at others’ feeds full of awards and other successes or an endless stream of photos and videos that show only the perfectly lighted, airbrushed images of godlike bodies2. We shall be as gods, even if it kills us.
Comparison, we all know, is the thief of joy. The thief, however, is only one of comparison’s guises. Fortunately, we have armies of self-help gurus who will tell us that we should stop comparing ourselves to others. Only compare you to you.
Too bad that’s no longer a solid solution.
Destroyer
Yes, comparison is the thief of joy. That, however, is only the beginner version of the mysterious3 quote. Let’s turn it into a more advanced idea: Comparison to others is the thief of joy; comparison to an idealized self is the destroyer of self-confidence.
Imagine Narcissus looking into the lake not to be entranced by his image, but recoiling with a punch of inadequacy when the image in the lake magically outshines him. That’s our situation. The only difference is that our lake is virtual. Our carefully curated social media feeds with filtered, photoshopped, or otherwise enhanced images or pithy posts that depict nothing but our best moments are something we, the real we, the we behind the digital mask can never live up to. And so, we end up envying the picture of ourselves we create.
I wish I could claim credit for the idea, but philosopher Lucy Olser wonderfully articulated self-envy in a recent paper. She writes:
… features of digital technology not only increase the frequency with which we might experience envy directed at others, but also envy directed at other versions of one’s self. For online, we not only encounter idealized versions of others but digitally idealized versions of our selves.
Our digitized self is where our idealized Narcissus meets the mountain nymph Echo, who does not see her own beauty. We often hear about social media feeding our inner Narcissus, and that’s certainly part of its appeal, but we can’t forget about Echo’s tragedy.
Remaker
In a mirror image of the Greek myth, narcissism has an equally damaging opposite: echoism, or the tendency to silence your own voice and only echo what others (usually more narcissistic) people say. You put your own needs aside to cater to those of others.
When we see our digitally enhanced Narcissus self on social media, the Echo of our true self cannot help but push our real needs aside and pine for a life we never lived but pretend to live.
That desire to live up to our digital self can take extreme forms.
A recent study found a correlation between social media use and more positive attitudes toward cosmetic surgery in young Australian women, as well as a correlation with less self-compassion. That correlation was more pronounced when over-identification was also part of the deal. Or, glossing over some details, the more you identify with (and envy) the false images on social media, the more likely you are to dislike yourself and consider ways to (surgically) change your appearance. Sure, that might be because you want to look like others, but, perhaps, also because you want to look more like your filtered self.
I am not arguing against cosmetic surgery — it can make some (but certainly not all) people happier. I am questioning why young women consider it. Undergoing an aesthetic procedure is, of course, always their choice. But is it really? If social media pushes unrealistic beauty standards on us4, then is the choice of (not) wanting to change our bodies fully our own?
Let’s finish up with an example of painful irony. Several trends have emerged that nobly combat our filtered feeds in favor of authenticity. One of those trends from a few years ago was the no-makeup movement. Ironically, a study found that it may have backfired. The researchers found:
… calls to look natural can be associated with increased artificial beauty practices… rather than investing less effort, consumers may engage in a self-presentational strategy wherein they construct an appearance of naturalness to signal low effort to others, thereby augmenting their attractiveness.
In other words, the no-makeup movement on social media began with people who - thanks to genetics, hard work, and expensive skincare routines - look beautiful without makeup. Others see that and want to mirror that look by applying makeup but making sure it doesn’t look as if they wear makeup.
Doing that only maintains the self-envy.
Back to square one.
Envy is wanting what someone else has; jealousy is wanting something so that no one else can have it — possessiveness is a crucial feature of jealousy, but not of envy. Envy is not a zero-sum game, jealousy is.
Not to mention that those fitness shots often involve a few days of starvation, dehydration, and - in some cases - ‘exogenous chemical assistance’.
Yes, men suffer from unrealistic beauty standards too — roughly 40% of men actively dislike their bodies and 85% (!) don’t consider themselves muscular enough, and they often bear those feelings in silence. Make it worse? Sure, why not? A UK survey finds that about one in five men dress specifically to hide parts of their body and 4% had engaged in self-harm ‘because of body image issues’. That’s one in twenty men you know.
Great read mate. I really like how you pen your ideas. :)
Self-envy is something I've never really thought about. I had a faint idea that people might try and actualise their manufactured internet selves but I never bothered about it since I became a social media hermit since college. But now that I'm actively using Substack, it makes me wonder, since with Notes, we writers also have a platform where everyone can paint a persona of themselves.
Self-envy is scary, do you think writers on Substack can fall prey to it?
The mention of mirror Echoism was insightful, and mimetic desire does indeed drive much of our behavior. As someone who has unintentionally been sporting the “no makeup” look since conception, I’m aware of the negative attitudes that society maintains when interacting with the physical form in all its imperfection. But I can’t imagine changing myself in order to curry favor with others or appease some sense of vanity. To each their own.