In the May issue of Smithsonian magazine, Joan Acocella ponders the image of the rude New Yorker. She’s a New Yorker, with all the self-satisfaction (insomuch as civic-pride can replace the ’self’); she is also a New Yorker in the I-write-for-that-magazine sense. I would have thought a New Yorker, by occupation, would have a better explanation of New Yorkers, the residents.
Her argument, more or less, is:
- New Yorkers may seem rude because they are smarter than other people
- they are smarter because they choose to live in New York, rather than somewhere more pleasant
- because New Yorkers are always cramped against other people, they don’t bother with the veneer of pleasant-ness
- New Yorkers inject themselves into the conversations around them, (which apparently makes them seem rude)
- New Yorkers don’t stare at celebrities, (which is not an argument as to why people think they are rude, but I reckon Acocella couldn’t resist the temptation to write about being in the elevator with Paul McCartney, and this is as good a time as any to make mention)
New Yorkers, then, are people who left another place and came here, looking for something, which suggests that the population is preselected for higher energy and ambition.
…
I sometimes get into conversations with taxi drivers, and since most of them are new to the city, I often ask them what they miss about the place they came from. Almost always, they name very ordinary pleasures: a slower pace of life, a café where they could sit around and talk to friends, a street where they could play kickball without getting run over. Those who miss these things enough will go back home. That means that the rest of us, statistically, are more high-strung, hungry and intent on long-term gains—traits that quite possibly correlate with intelligence.
To be intelligent is, apparently, to be high-strung…hmmmmmm. I agree that a person will seek to live, however so uncomfortable the environs, where their mind, occupation, or live-desires dictates they be. Why, though, New York is the necessary habitation of intellegencia, I know not. Statistically, maybe, would-be financial whizes and entertainers might stick it out in NYC rather than live somewhere with an affordable yard…but it does not follow that to be intellegent one must stick it out in the concrete jungle. If the suffering of a habitat makes one intellegent, why not look to North Dakota, or, for that matter, the early mornings of a farm existence?
But I think it’s also possible that New Yorkers just appear smarter, because they make less separation between private and public life. That is, they act on the street as they do in private. In the United States today, public behavior is ruled by a kind of compulsory cheer that people probably picked up from television and advertising and that coats their transactions in a smooth, shiny glaze, making them seem empty-headed. New Yorkers have not yet gotten the knack of this.
This argument confirms to me that their are two kinds of people in this world: those that believe life is pleasant and one ought to be decent, and those that live in some sort of misery and believe everyone else necessarily also does. So, one person’s good nature and sunny disposition is another’s “compulsory cheer.” While I will forgive a person their perpetual bad mood, I hope they will, in turn, forgive my general happiness. The notion that smiling, greeting, or generally not frowning at a passerby portends some sort of imbecility is a notion I cannot comprehend. My hunch is that it is a product of low self-esteem, stupidity, or childishness. If I am not happy, everyone else must be faking it. In any event, I am at a loss in understanding how gloominess equates to intelligence.
As to the private vs public life: this argument suggests that society places a duty of cheerfulness on public disposition while we are free to be ho-hum among our private friends and family. While I expect those close to me to emit their honest emotions, I also believe in a deeply human need (duty, even) to have the ability of deciding this: either I need to be alone and refrain from heaping my bad mood on those around me or I need companionship. Any reasonable person can accept the human need to vent, and responsible friends and family can embrace those moments. Day-to-day, though, it seems to me rather “empty-headed” to assume that cheeriness equals stupidity.
The essay ends with some charming stories about people interacting in a post office and people not staring at celebrities. To me, I am reminded of the mid-west as I read this more than New York, where it seems just as likely you will find people stone silent in a post office and gawking at celebrities. Or watching Oprah. Or being slaves to whatever latest fashion flows down the pike. Or being wonderfully intelligent. Or playing kickball in the park.
My mere point is this: New York, and a lot of other places, are great, and no spot has a monopoly on stupid nor intelligent folks. But, in an attempt to apologize (in the old sense of the word – explain) a perceived rudeness, it is downright knuckleheaded to assert that nice people are dumb.
May 4, 2008 at 9:44 pm
I can attest to APO’s general good cheer. I still owe him one for keeping my spirits up while we were studying for the bar exam. And since we both passed, I would agree we’re not TOO stupid
May 14, 2008 at 8:47 am
Give me a break. I’m not going to insult your literacy or reading comprehension, but I think you definitely are predisposed to disagree with Acocella, leading to arguments against something she never even asserts.
Acocella starts off by saying “Many people believe that New Yorkers are smarter than other Americans, and this may actually be true.” She explains an observation of what other people think, then goes on to say it’s possible, but not definite, that the conventional belief may be true.
Then she goes even further away from the assertion that New Yorkers are smarter: “It’s also possible that New Yorkers just appear smarter.” She never says New Yorkers are smarter, just as she never says outwardly happy people are dumber: “Public behavior is ruled by a compulsory cheer that people picked up from television and that coats their transactions in a smooth, shiny glaze, making them seem empty-headed.” Emphasis on “making them seem.”
So basically you make a bunch of arguments against a statement that doesn’t exist, and you do so by ad hominem attacks against the writer, surmising that she is “a product of low self-esteem, stupidity, or childishness.”
Way to read selectively and argue fallaciously.
May 14, 2008 at 1:34 pm
Lily 2 makes a fine point that my argument is less with the basic point of Acocella’s piece than with something else. This provides an opportunity to ask, then, what are my (the reader’s) key assumptions while reading the piece?
In the post, above, I make 2 main points, associated with the 2 block quotes: (1) a person’s environment(city, country, stressful, relaxed) is not a reliable indicator of their intelligence or drive in life. I will defer, on this point, to Wendell Berry; and (2) cheer is not necessarily compulsory.
This latter bit was what really got me going while reading the article – and, likely, because I am predisposed to react to societal assumptions that pleasantness indicates stupidness. My interest in the subject is not so much scientific as anecdotal. All the same, this sentence is surpassingly problematic: “In the United States today, public behavior is ruled by a kind of compulsory cheer that people probably picked up from television and advertising and that coats their transactions in a smooth, shiny glaze, making them seem empty-headed.”
Let’s review the assumptions in this line:
- when people are out in society, their cheerfulness is compulsory
- this veneer results from tv
- a pleasant demeanor makes a person seem empty-headed
May 14, 2008 at 1:37 pm
It is really only the last point that I find dangerous – the first 2 may or may not be true. The danger in the first two would be in assuming that, because folks in public act nicer than they are (or are presently disposed), then EVERYONE must be acting, and not actually pleasant.
The last point, though, is more stereotypical and wrong-headed. Where does this come from, the myth of the nice (and thus simple-headed) person. Gomer Pile?
May 14, 2008 at 3:24 pm
There is an interesting assumption going on here — that engaging in public interactions, invited or uninvited, is “rude.” For example, talking to people about their handbag or helping them in the post office line. The author says, “It is said that New Yorkers are rude, but I think what people mean by that is that New Yorkers are more familiar.” Why is there a connection in people’s minds between rudeness and familiarity?
I went to Disney World with a British friend when I was in high school, and I remember her being amazed at how complete strangers would strike up conversations while waiting in line for rides. She said, “Everyone is so much nicer here than at home.” Coming from a more reserved society than ours, she welcomed the familiarity, which came across to her as simple friendliness.
May 14, 2008 at 3:29 pm
I think the difference between rudeness and politeness is a function of the quality of interaction with strangers, not the quantity of it. What matters to me is the intent behind the uninvited comment. If the cashier at the gorcery store openly admires my dress, I appreciate that, as kindly meant. When the leering construction worker makes a similar comment about my appearance, no one hates that more than me! Sadly my experience is that the latter uninvited interaction is far more common than the former.