Irreverence and Impropriety
I love the terms “irreverence” and “impropriety” because they imply an understanding of decorum, but a pointed disregard for it. At a first pass, they seem inconsistent with my obsession with self-awareness: Someone who’s self-aware would generally try not to break rules without good reason, but it is only someone who’s aware of themselves and what’s expected of them who can break them whenever they want to.
Many of my regular readers are of the opinion that I know nothing about fashion, so I brace myself for their criticism of my analogy in advance. There are classically accepted ways to dress: consider a pair of white tennis shoes, a pair of black skinny jeans, and an ironed shirt, buttoned and tucked. Depending on the locale, the company, and the occasion, there are many deviations that elevate the outfit. A splash of colour on the shoes, or having them as dirty as after a rainy outdoor spring party. Cuffing the jeans, having them loose and straight-cut, or opting for a that shiny black leather colour. The shirt can be untucked in the front, in the back, or on either side, can have various combinations of buttons done or undone, and can be ironed or not.
Similarly, there are some milieus where an indifference to the rules not only improves ones enjoyment of the situation, but also improves how one is viewed. Asking a pushy waiter at a nicer Italian restaurant how much market price for the lobster actually is, and then a willingness to instead eat pizza with ones hands, folded New York style. Watching a YouTube video in the office on one screen while working on another, then leaving before five, while the big man is present. Taking a selfie in front of an artwork at a museum, and then sitting on the floor to admire a painting without a bench in front of it. Of course, it helps to balance things out appropriately, like pronouncing the menu items and using the rest of the cutlery correctly at the restaurant, or coming a bit earlier and doing productive work that day at the office. This way, it’s evident that these violations were a conscious choice instead of habitual motions.
The point here obviously, isn’t to break rules for the sake of doing so. Rules exist for a reason; even if purely for ceremony, they give others a sense of security and belonging and breaking them can upset others. But knowing why the rules exist, and a willingness to break them to one’s advantage can be beneficial. The argument also isn’t a Dostoyevskian Ubermensch concerned with how the weak control the strong using the chains of society, but a reminder of how much rules can constrain us at times. What is similar is the will to power aspect, that breaking these rules can benefit the individual at the cost of society. Though standing up to a waiter or stealing a few hours from the corporation seems to be sticking it to the man, it’s the rest of the restaurant patrons or fellow employees that are shortchanged at the end of the day, paying a few cents extra or making a few cents less after the corporations crunch the numbers. Imagine if everyone crowded paintings at museums, taking pictures. I guess there’s not much need to imagine that.
However, breaking rules only bring power if there are rules to break. It’s like the tragedy of the commons: if everyone’s sheep feed on the park grass, then there would be no grass for everyone to enjoy. Not only are the aforementioned gains completely negated if everyone broke the rules, but even small wins for the sake of impropriety are lost: eating a pizza à la New York 99-cent pizza joint in a nice Italian restaurant no longer communicates irreverence and personality if everyone else is also eating with their hands. Returning to our armchair behavioural economics then, everyone should be breaking the rules as per our friend Mr. Nash. The question is, why aren’t they?
I’m sure that many answers have been posited by these pop-sci books that I detest so much, as well as papers that are products of the peer-review machine, but I’d like to rely on the tried and trusted first-year sociology explanation: that rules are implemented for societal cohesion, life is better within society, and failure to abide by these rules results in expulsion from society. For heinous breaks, such as murder or grand theft, society distributes justice clearly and swiftly, whereas deviations in mores are punished through exclusion and ostracization. Then, everyone has their own calculus of how many rules to break, when it’s worth it and when it’s not.
My intention isn’t to convince everyone to commit larceny or to stop tipping, but rather to examine why we follow some of the lesser norms as strictly as we sometimes do, even if it’s something we don’t want. Fundamentally, we’re concerned about what people might think. If I order the expensive bottle of wine that the sommelier recommended with dinner at a French restaurant even though I hate wine, I no longer have to consider what the waitstaff, other patrons, and whomever I’m eating with will think of me. Depending on whom I’m dining with, they might even be concerned about being seen with me, because of what others will think of them. But in these situations, it pays to have the strength to decide what one likes. Does it matter what the waitstaff or other patrons think of me? And if my dining companion thinks less of me, or is concerned about their perception, perhaps their company isn’t worth having. Breaking the convention of ordering wine at dinner is a weak example, since the convention is nonsensical to start with. Understanding the root cause of a more helps when determining which rules to break.
I encourage you to misbehave a little, to question why certain mores are in place. When it’s important to care what people think and when it’s important to ignore it. Seek to follow the rules for those who are demand that you do so, but keep counsel only with those who don’t care about the small things. Or don’t, stick to the books, to what people expect of you. All the more benefits for me to reap after all.
