The status game

Forget about doing away with inequality, writes science journalist Storr--not while humans are humans and leopards don't change their spots. What keeps striving humans up at night? Not wealth, sexual conquest, or security: No, writes Storr; it's status, the relative position we hold vis-à-vis those around us. The quest for high status deforms our better angels. "Always on alert for slights and praise," he writes, "we can be petty, hateful, aggressive, grandiose and delusional." In fact, "status is a fundamental human need." It's not just that we need to be admired; we must be admired more than the person next to us, and we're hard-wired for that golden key: Holding status affords access to wealth, sex, security, and every other thing that we desire. Digging into anthropology, psychology, neuroscience, and other realms, Storr outlines the evolutionary history of our need as social animals to belong to a group--and, once inside a group, to attain rank. Sometimes this plays out in odd ways. One of the many layered examples the author presents is the case of a Micronesian island community in which status is attained by the farmer who could grow the largest yam to present to the village leader, resulting in a society of secretive, jealous, mistrustful Mendelians and plenty of disharmony. Those who do not attain status through yams or heroics--or are shunned or ridiculed--can do very bad things. Storr locates status loss as an ingredient in the makings of serial killers, the Unabomber, and other miscreants. "Humiliation can be seen as the opposite of status, the hell to its heaven," he writes. "Like status, humiliation comes from other people." When other people engineer that status loss, mayhem can ensue, especially today's "neoliberal game," which relies on a zero-sum formula of have and have-not. Pair this eye-opening book with W. David Marx's equally revelatory Status and Culture. An interesting, deeply researched, and sometimes disturbing look into the science of what makes us tick. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.