Episode 9: On the power of stereotypes in Business School
On Euclidean geometry and exercising judgment on people
When I started my term at Wharton, I used to organize and sort the volume of people I was forced to socialize with on a Euclidean model. It starts, as most great inventions of our time do, with a tumblr post. The post says, "If you're not in my circle of trust, then you're in my triangle of suspicion or my rhombus of doubt." (Source unattributed because I couldn't find the original).
I've extended the model further. I have a Pentagon of Pettiness and a Trapezoid of Treason. All assignments to the polygons are flexible except for the Trapezoid of Treason, which usually manifests when, during the process of promotion to a closer polygon, a person betrays my trust in some significant manner. The nature of Treason is such that once you are in the Trapezoid, you cannot escape it.
I've been (fairly) accused of being quite a judgmental person, and I invite judgment in many ways as well. I am known for being blunt and I am dismissive of people who are either tepid conversationalists, apathetic or have interests that I find unoriginal. As someone who has grappled with death numerous times in my life, I am always operating as if I do not have enough time, which is why I'm constantly anxious about making the most of my short-lived time.
This veers between internalized capitalism (trying to make every second a productive one somehow) or an insatiable curiosity (trying to learn as much as I can and be as much as I can as quickly as possible). Someday, I hope to learn how to live my life without experiencing every moment as an exposed live wire. This is probably why I sound existentialist on most days, and unfortunately, think about death a perfectly normal number of times in a day.
At Wharton, many people find curiosity itself to be a confrontation, so my style is perceived as forbidding rather than inviting. Sometimes I actively contribute to that perception. I poke at someone's carefully constructed veneer because I want to know what caused them to think that way. In a school where reputation is currency, playing appearance games is encouraged and often supported because Well Isn't That What Business School Is About™?
As judgmental as I am of other people, I hope they are gratified in knowing that I exercise the same judgment on myself. I also suffer the consequences of my judgment often. There are plenty of passionate, talented and creative people who are bad interlocutors, although those in the Circle are both. There are people who have intricate, interesting histories and inner lives that they simply choose not to share with me (which is their right to exercise). My form of filtering, although rigorously applied, is not always fault-tolerant.
Business school makes me cynical because there are plenty of lukewarm people who are excellent at marketing their mediocrity. At first, I couldn't tell if the wave of conformity is a defense mechanism of some kind. I refused to believe that the stereotypes about business school people were true. But the social culture of currency means that the stereotypes are reinforcing. The more you fit into Rich Frat Bro, the more rapidly you can form superficial connections. The more you lean into I Know People At Wharton as your currency, the more people at Wharton will want to know you to become part of that currency.
The conventional are understood because though the pool of students are young, they've never had to imagine a life outside of their known support systems of generational wealth/access/connections. Legacy admits will always have access to a pool of people that no-name immigrant children like I am supposed to be grateful for. The unconventional are shunned unless proven, through some external means, to be exceptional. That which requires cognitive agitation or time or repeated application to be understood and learned is not in the realm of Business School. Business School is for the quick and dirty frameworks, the nuances of which are someone else's problem downstream.
Perhaps I am naive because I expected better, but also, what is the point of credentials and power if we do not try to do better?
Some friends in my Circle like to use Wharton as an anthropological analysis: how the conformism behaviors and rigid social stratification will affect what we imagine society to be five or ten years down the line. All of us are being coached into jobs and positions of power, and yet power only concentrates among a few at the top. So, what gives? Is the school mass-manufacturing consultants and finance people or is it actually shaping leaders of the future?
Look, I had labels on my resume that were impressive enough even before Wharton existed on my personal horizon. In a slow and continued form of defiance, probably since my Columbia undergrad days, I've chosen to introduce my formal credentials last. I would rather you know me as somewhat unhinged, someone who likes weird pop music and someone who is obsessed with sharks than someone who went to Columbia, worked at Google and is now at Wharton.
Because I am desperately fighting every possible stereotype. I don't want to be yet another Tech Bro/ Ivy League Snob / Business School Girlboss. I'm literally just some woman with thoughts, but I do spend a lot of time in consuming literature, media and ideas that I hope present a much fuller picture of me. I'm someone who likes to make things. I watch cartoons obsessively for animation graphics. I am, I am, I am, and as much as I hate being perceived I want to be seen as a person who has more to offer the world than quantifiable value.
Wharton's conformism bubble almost choked me out in my first semester, and I really only survived the social tectonics by trying not to fail Accounting. At the same time, my internet took on a very strange tone: a lot of my peers seemed so excited to be at Wharton and to be constantly traveling. I am not constantly posting on Linkedin, documenting every class as the transformative achievement of my life (something that is perhaps of disappointment to the school itself).
In defiance, I actively wanted to focus my digital and personal presence as a person who has achieved Other Things besides Being at Wharton. I have a blog where I do write under my real name, and I share many thoughts that I don't think interest the people who are in business school. The friends in the Circle know that I write this blog under a pseudonym, and many believe I shouldn't since my authenticity is the reason people choose to connect with me. When Wharton friends start following me on Instagram, they claim to find my existential memes "authentic and funny". Almost all of them believe that they are uniquely connected to my para-social presence even though I am sharing exactly the same thing to all audiences (Wharton and non-Wharton alike).
I also receive censure for this perceived authenticity. I am known as a "gossip", and the fact that I share a lot about my life (both under a pseudonym and without) has created the reputation that I am someone to beware. It's flattering to me to be intimidated and feared. Some people (specifically men) believe that I am untrustworthy with private information, and it's because they have heard me describe stories of enduring horrible dates/contexts with other men. Yet the women that I "gossip" to all agree that it is better to know the multilateral contexts in which people engage with each other in this network than not. Women "gossip" in order to be protected and men fear gossip because they fear being misconstrued.
It's hard not to want to be liked even when we're all in a panopticon. I feel like my perceived authenticity has become a performance. Not in the way that traditional influencers make their lifestyle a performance, but that the operations of my brain have become a spectacle for others to observe and comment on.
Despite my algorithm's best intentions, I've been boxed into Existentialist Philosopher Sad Girl Writer Who Loves Art and Small Fluffy Animals on instagram. In what possible way am I, also a Columbia/Google/Wharton person contributing value to society? In what possible way am I solving cancer, global poverty, the deteriorating climate, the crumbling democracy or even homeless starving children on the streets?
The true panopticon isn't that I'm being talked about at Wharton, but that no matter what, these systems of power and success make me feel like I am not enough of who I am rather than reinforce more of what I want to be.