So far, the researchers who study the ‘geography of thought’
have revealed the extent to which where we are shapes who we are. The sort of person we become depends, to a great extent, on who we need to be in our particular environment. But that’s not to say that individual men and women don’t have the power to change us too. To argue this would be to deny the effect that Jesus, Aristotle, Confucius and all the other remarkable cultural leaders we’re to meet on this journey have had on us. The fact is that when we’re working out who we need to be in order to get along and get ahead, we’re not just taking our information from stories. Being tribal animals, we’re also constantly scan- ning our environment for people who seem to have, in some way, mastered the secrets of a successful life. The ideal self we’re looking for doesn’t only exist in fiction and gossip, it’s also right there in front of us. And these people can be a pow- erful source of influence. The psychologist Professor Joseph Henrich writes that the ‘cultural learning’ that comes from those around us ‘reaches directly into our brains and changes the neurological values we place on things and people, and in doing so, it also sets the standards by which we judge our- selves.’ Our brains identify these leaders by being alert to various ‘cues’ that they, and the people around them, display. A basic cue we look for is ‘self-similarity’, for the straightforward reason that we’re more likely to learn salient things by deciding to follow people who are like us in some fundamental way. (Our instinct to be drawn to and mimic those who are similar to ourselves is, sadly, yet another way that we’re automatically tribal.) Another cue is age, which is especially important for children. Physical dominance is a cue that can be traced back to our primal ancestors and was, of course, John Pridmore’s favoured method of exerting influence. But we also hunt for two more mercurial qualities that do much to explain not only the way in which individuals end up having outsized effects
on their culture, but the often barmy world of celebrity we
inhabit today. These cues are success and prestige. Research suggests that we start mimicking people who we see displaying competence when they’re completing tasks at around the age of fourteen months. As we grow up these ‘skill cues’ begin to take on a more symbolic form, as ‘success cues’. In our hunter-gatherer pasts, it would’ve made sense to copy the actions of the hunter who wore many necklaces of teeth made from his kills, for example, as his success cue demon- strated high competence. It seems likely that designer clothing, expensive manicures and fast cars are today’s equivalents of these attention-magnetizing displays. Success cues impress because of how our brains have evolved. You might argue that an investment banker’s Ferrari doesn’t signal any kind of excel- lence you’re interested in – or, indeed, any kind of excellence at all. That, sadly, is beside the point. This behaviour is automatic and unconscious. It just happens. (And if you are somehow immune to the cues that come with wealth, there’ll surely be another set of success cues that have an equally powerful and largely hidden effect on you.) But we don’t just rely on our own sense of who’s skilful and successful when we work out who to copy. As a highly social, groupish species, we tend to look at who other people consider worthy of attention. We’ll note, for a start, that these men and women have plenty of admirers. Like St Benedict, the world’s most popular hermit, everyone seems to be somehow drawn to them. ‘Once people have identified a person as worthy of learn- ing from,’ writes Henrich, ‘they necessarily need to be around them, watching, listening and eliciting information through interaction.’ This chosen person, and the people around them, will then begin to show ‘prestige cues’. The chosen person’s body language and speech patterns will show differences. Others will defer to them in myriad ways, conversationally and with eye contact. They might give them gifts or help them
with chores, they might curtsy or bow or, as the monks do to
the Pluscarden Abbot, copy them in overt and ritualized ways. Without realizing it, they’ll often mimic their body language, mannerisms and vocal patterns. One of the more sinister ways we mimic and signal our deference to cultural leaders happens entirely outside of our conscious awareness. The human voice contains a low-fre- quency vocal band of 500 hertz that was long considered useless because, when the higher frequencies are filtered out, all that’s left is a deep information-less hum. It’s since been discovered, though, that this hum is actually ‘an unconscious social instrument’. The dominant person in a social situation tends to set the level of the hum and everyone else adjusts theirs to match it. Analyses of twenty-five CNN interviews given by Larry King found that he changed his hum to match George Bush and Liz Taylor, signalling his deference to them. However, Dan Quayle and Spike Lee adjusted to match him. Perhaps tellingly, in the more prickly interviews, such as that with Al Gore, neither party accommodated the other. We’re naturally attracted to prestige cues, and begin to follow them early. A clever study by a team including Henrich had pre-schoolers watch a video of two people using the same toy in different ways. As they were playing with it, two by- standers entered the room, watched the first person, then the second person, then ‘preferentially watched’ just one of them. ‘The visual attention of the bystanders provided a “prestige cue” that seemingly marked one of the two potential models,’ writes Henrich. Afterwards, children were thirteen times more likely to copy the way the prestige-cued person had used the toy. The way we respond to these cues, by automatically defer- ring and copying, seems to explain one of the stranger facets of modern celebrity culture. It’s why, for example, the ex-boxer George Foreman’s view on contraptions that grill meat can apparently be taken seriously, at least unconsciously, by many
of the hundred million customers that have bought them. If some-
one gives out prestige cues, we’re naturally triggered into this behaviour, especially if that person is part of our perceived in- group. The mind isn’t worried about whether it actually makes sense – whether this person’s sphere of excellence is actually useful in judging the product they happen to be selling – it’s just a dumb mechanism picking up on cues and behaviour. All of this leads to a phenomenon that’s sometimes known as the ‘Paris Hilton effect’. Because we’re wired to direct our attention towards the people who are already the subject of attention, we’ll sometimes be drawn to people in the media without really knowing why. But our being drawn to them makes the media focus on them even more. We then attend to them more, then the media attends to them more, and then there’s a runaway effect, a feedback loop, in which the status of an essentially nondescript person becomes madly amplified. So we copy people. We’re helplessly drawn to them. We identify the ones who seem to know best how to get along and get ahead, we watch them, we listen to them, we open our selves to their influence. And then we’ll often internalize the things they’ve taught us. They have become absorbed into our model of the perfect self. They are now part of us. And, so, culture spreads. * After lauds, at 4:30 the next morning, I became distracted by a quiet path that led through the wooden grave markers. Curi- ous, I followed it. Behind an on old stone wall I came across a Londoner called Robert. Pale, in his mid-forties with thinning curly hair, small round glasses and a blue raincoat, he told me he was staying at Pluscarden because he was considering becoming a monk. ‘It’s scary,’ he said. ‘But then you think, “Is it just the Devil trying to put me off?” If you have faith, you shouldn’t be scared of anything.’ ‘Why is it scary?’