Losing Oneself to Performance

Let’s take a moment to consider three tiers of performance culture, in which people present a version of themselves to the broader public that is disparate from who they are. Contrary to what’s often claimed, the primary harm is not to those being deceived, but to the deceiver himself. As we move up toward tier three, we can see a much more modern phenomenon, in which one’s basic need for privacy is no longer even the cause of the behavior.

Tier One can even be healthy

We think we know who people are by an impressive job title. “English professor” gives us a view of the whole man, we believe. He’s studious, dresses well, intelligent, not into sports, very unlikely to be criminal, and so on. But the job title only tells us of his accomplishment. His true battles are hidden from us, and we can claim no right to know them. His guardedness with strangers and self-identification with his successes represents pretty healthy behavior.

Not only do we make sweeping assumptions based upon such small snippets of information, but that is generally how people wish to be understood. It is the fragment of their lives that they present to the broader world—not just because they find it defining, but because they wish it were. We all prefer to be identified by our successes rather than our totality, particularly by strangers. Another way of putting that is to say that we find the truth to be unsettling.

To some degree, this tier can represent a natural and healthy privacy, as opposed to sharing painful memories with strangers.

Tier Two is pride-induced self-harm

In a similar but more exaggerated vein, people on social media display a curated image of success. Whether they emphasize their supposed wealth via shots of their new purchases or simply exaggerated happiness through dramatic, energy-filled presentations on camera, they craft an image. Not only do they desire to share this more than the truth—it’s what people want to see. Boring or melancholic presentations don’t get views. Poverty doesn’t attract. Depression doesn’t inspire.

In fact, “influencer” is the top dream job of Generation Alpha, incorporating Youtubers, TikTok Creators, and online streamers, according to Fortune:

Gen Alpha’s Dream Jobs

1. YouTuber (32%)

2. TikTok creator (21%)

3. Doctor/nurse (20%)

4. Mobile app/video game developer (19%)

5. Entrepreneur (17%)

6. Artist (16%)

7. Sports athlete (15%)

8. Professional online streamer (15%)

9. Musician (14%)

10. Teacher (14%)

But the reality of those dreams is much darker. Each year, we have a new list of YouTubers who have taken their own lives. A recent study showed that some ten percent of content creators struggle with suicidal thoughts—twice that of the general population.

To act counter to the truth is self-erasing, and that takes a toll on the soul. Those who curate an image of themselves, and especially who do so all day long, must eventually acknowledge that it isn’t who they are. And often, that means recognizing that they are not who they consider to be the “ideal” person. Perhaps they’re not rich enough, or energetic enough, or their real friends don’t laugh at their jokes like online sycophants. Whatever the case, there’s a disconnect between outward portrayal and inward turmoil.

Don’t misunderstand—personal stories ought to remain personal, and we not have a “right” to the intimate history of another, especially a stranger. But what is not considered, especially by those perpetually doing so, is that presenting a chronically false view of oneself is destructive too.

Tier Three Has Self-Erased

Then there’s the next level of performance culture, in which a person only lives online, so he has no formed self to present. These people tend to be too socially inept to exist in Tier 2. They are a very modern product, because their mode of existence requires a certain level of industrialization and reliance on others.

This person only knows how to echo the opinions of a subculture. His own “personality,” to the degree that such is defined by interests and how one presents in a social setting, has not been defined. He hasn’t engaged in hobbies, quarreled and competed and laughed with human friends in the real world, or thereby learned the healthy boundaries of social contexts. He is isolated and is thus most vulnerable to the artificial socialization that can occur online.

These are the people found deep within gamer communities and immersed in Reddit, embodying the stereotype of the person who still lives in his parents’ basement well into his thirties. The problem isn’t that he is presenting a fake person online, but that his ability to engage with real people is so nebulous that there is no way for him to be fake—or real.

It’s easier for these people to get confused about the line between reality and the Internet world, thereby allowing themselves to be swept into, for example, perverse ideological movements masquerading as something moral. That is the story of how so many young people became “trans” after thousands of hours on Tumblr, Discord, and similar websites (while being described as detached loners by those who had occasion to see them in the flesh.) It’s likewise the environment wherein so many of our mass shooters are formed. One story after another describes those assailants as entirely disconnected from reality, and to some degree, from their own humanity.

Grasping for Reality

Each person does not solely have to decide how and what he presents to the world, for that has always been part of living in a community. The contemporary reality is more complicated. Internet usage is how people get jobs, learn what is happening in the world, and even become perceivably “normal” amongst their contemporaries. The public online display of one’s private life is expected more than ever, and the attempt to show an artificially positive framework is often just a desire for the privacy that was once the norm.

The problem is that our sense of what is healthy is being distorted by the perceived need to perform or even turn oneself into a commodity. We have elevated the selling of one’s thoughts, preferences, and opinions to a type of false leadership. What we need are true leaders. We need those who do not need to craft caricatures of themselves because they are well-formed and they embody the virtues. Good leaders inspire young and old alike and provide for societal orientation.

Those who are being “followed” in our modern non-culture make for poor stand-ins in a leaderless society. They cannot bear the burden of the position. Fame and attention can be crushing, as they have always been for people in positions of prestige. The problem is that such status was once earned, and is now the reward for ridiculous and pride-filled behavior.

A society without leaders is unsteered, which is why over half of its youth would seek fame rather than greatness. We are seeing the starvation of meaning and the precluding of healthy, honest, life-giving, in-person relationships. Great men have led by their magnanimity, not by being self-obsessed or by flaunting wealth and artificial happiness. They have frequently done so by speaking Truth into a world that finds it repulsive, at great personal cost.

Notice that as one advances through the tiers, he fails to lead, not only others, but his own life. It is the ceding of every personal decision to the whims of a fickle crowd. As such, it is the opposite of leadership, for the person self-erases into what the collective would create him to be. He becomes, in a way, soulless. Living apart from true socialization and denying one’s responsibility to cultivate community is a moral failure—the cost of which we can no longer afford.