Dr. Jordan Peterson, the famous Canadian clinical psychologist with perfectly normal opinions about basic things, that somehow manage to be controversial in this profoundly psychotic civilization, found himself in an unenviable position when some politcorrect state body threatened to revoke his clinical license unless he submits to what can only be called brainwashing and reprogramming to the “correct” leftist schedule.

My reaction to this was that he had that coming.

You see, one of the things that profoundly annoyed me about him is that he always recommends that, when you find yourself opposed to the majority, you have to assume that they are right and you are wrong. Basically, he assumes that the majority will always be “normal” by default, and any deviation from “normal” is probably for the worse. So, yeah; he’s having a taste of his own medicine now. The vast majority of psychologists, including the ones who are in the position to approve or revoke his license, are leftist idiots. The entire field is a cesspool of Marxist and postmodernist idiocy, but he would like to have his doctorate and a license to practice. So, he’s now in a position where he either has to practice his own doctrine and bend over to the majority, or understand that his doctrine was wrong.

I was once in a position where cca. 30 people were trying to tell me that I was obviously and stubbornly wrong because I stated that 2+3*5=17. I remained perfectly firm in my position regardless of their opinion, for one simple reason – I was much better at mathematics than any of them, and I knew about the priority of operations. They even pulled out several cheap calculators that calculate 25 as the result, and this, too, didn’t change my mind one least bit. The situation, however, was a major cornerstone in my thinking, because I realised that any number of people can have the same opinion because they are the same kind of stupid, and an individual can be smarter than all of them put together, because their mental capacities don’t add. If neither of the members of a group possess certain knowledge, the group doesn’t magically come to possess it regardless of its size. Also, the IQ of a group can never exceed the IQ of the smartest individual in the group, and arguably can’t even reach it, because if consensus is required, the result will gravitate towards the median. You can be right and any number of your opponents can be wrong, if you’re making correct conclusions, and they are all deluded in the same way. This realisation permanently changed something inside me, like feeling a pressure or a weight lift; I understood then that I subconsciously felt strain every time I deviated from commonly accepted “truths”, and this was the point where I profoundly and irrevocably stopped caring. This didn’t make me start accepting all kinds of idiotic beliefs that are not backed by evidence or experience of any kind, though; if anything, I became more careful, because I was left in a position where I couldn’t rely on anybody else to correct me, so I had to catch all of my mistakes myself.

I wonder whether Peterson will have the courage to do the same, and have a 2+3*5 moment. I somehow doubt it; he doesn’t look like someone who has that kind of courage.

I was thinking about utility and futility of status symbols recently, in relation to the Andrew Tate controversy, so let me share my thoughts here.

First of all, status symbols are useful when you interact with new people, because you want them to properly identify your social position, in order to avoid the slow and impractical process of introduction, and in order to get to the point where they react to you appropriately. For instance, if you don’t dress appropriately for your social status when you try to buy something expensive, you might find yourself in an awqward position where they don’t believe that you have the money to buy what you want to buy, and if they don’t take you seriously it might require excessive effort on your behalf to convince them. Dressing appropriately is not as essential as behaving appropriately, but it helps. Status symbols are, in those cases, the equivalent of a uniform for a doctor, fireman or a policeman; if you don’t have a uniform, you might be as qualified for your job as ever, but people might not believe you without some convincing, and an appropriate uniform makes this tiresome step unnecessary. Note that this step is only necessary in the environment where people meet you for the first time. If everybody knows you’re a doctor or a policeman, for instance if you live in a small town, the uniform is nowhere near as important, which might be why people pay more attention (and money) to status symbols when they live in big cities. If people don’t know you, the kind of car you drive, as well as your suit and watch, are something that tells people something about your level of social success and standing. Certainly, there are people who fake this by wasting all the money they don’t have on status symbols, and they can “hack” the first impression, but it will only get them so far, and if they make a poor impression later on, it will all backfire on them heavily. So, status symbols are useful, but also “hackable”, and thus not reliable.

The second point is that status symbols can backfire if you don’t know what you’re doing. For instance, if you live in a small town, where everybody knows you, wasting money on status symbols doesn’t add anything to the impression you’re making, because everybody already knows what you do and what kind of money you’re making, so if you behave wastefully, they won’t think you’re wealthy, they’ll think you’re an idiot. Also, status symbols put pressure on your environment to try to match you, and this might financially strain them, so they will subconsciously blame you for putting such pressure on them, which won’t make them like you very much. You basically motivate people to alienate you and think poorly of you, because that’s a less expensive way of dealing with the pressure you are exerting.

The third point is that in a small environment, where people know you, they will judge your social status by the most expensive thing you own, for instance your house. Spending money on an expensive car or a watch doesn’t do anything after that point, because everybody already knows you’re rich because you own a big house. Also, if you don’t own a big house, but you own an expensive trinket, they will think you’re an idiot, so that is counterproductive. In a big city, however, that might work, but as people get to know you, it will backfire later. It is always better to surprise people positively as they get to know you better, because otherwise the positive first impression will backfire on you. A normal car parked in front an expensive house in a good neighbourhood makes a much better impression than a fancy car parked in front of a shitty house in a cheap neighbourhood, because if your primary status symbol is less impressive than secondary and tertiary ones (cars, clothes and trinkets), you will leave a very poor impression, because such behaviour is usually associated with people of low class. People of high class, however, usually have their priorities straight and they feel comfortable with their status, and so don’t spend excessively on trinkets.

Also, status symbols are not necessary if you are famous. For instance, if someone is a famous musician, actor, politician or something, everybody who recognizes you will already know your social standing, and spending excessive money on status symbols will do nothing for your public recognition; it might, however, leave an impression of gaudiness and wastefulness, so acting appropriately means that you have to present yourself according to social norms for decency. For instance, if Bill Gates goes somewhere dressed cheaply, and people recognize who he is, they won’t suddenly conclude that he’s poor. If anything, they might like him more because they won’t feel he’s signalling his enormous wealth in ways that make them feel like losers, thus making it a preferential choice for them to isolate and reject him.

So, basically, the status symbols are sometimes useful, for instance when you need to present yourself to new people in such a way that the first impression you make is useful for them to assess your social standing correctly. For instance, I told my son that he has to present himself more formally, because people would otherwise underestimate him, because he’s young; he is a competent young professional and needs to present a public persona that conveys a correct impression. If he dresses like a broke loser, people will tend to treat him as such, and that’s neither pleasant nor useful. That doesn’t mean he has to overspend on clothes and trinkets, but a nice shirt  and a clean looking watch can already do most of the work. However, status symbols very quickly reach a point where people feel as if you’re rubbing it in, and exerting pressure on them to act wastefully, which is basically why Andrew Tate pissed me off; he actively tries to set a standard of wasteful behaviour, to which I react with “how about ‘no‘”, and he achieves the exact opposite of his intentions, despite the fact that I actually like him quite a bit. There is obviously a line of propriety regarding status symbols; you need to look like you belong there, but you also need to avoid presenting in such a blatantly ostentatious way as to intentionally make other people feel bad, because that tends to end badly, and especially so when ostentatiousness is combined with arrogance and haughtiness.