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The Tyranny of the Niche

Posted 08-Apr-2010 by Robby Slaughter (@robbyslaughter)

In the rollicking free market, hyper-industrialized madness of modern First World life, we are mostly free from oppression. Whereas our ancestors fought dysentery, we struggle to find time to hit the gym. Whereas our forefathers overthrew cruel and inhuman masters, we respond to unpleasantries by scouring the web and switching jobs. Our leaders may be foolish or domineering, but we recycle them at the ballot box every few years. The only yoke that remains is the one we cannot help but create: the tyranny of the niche.

Begin With a Joke

There’s an old one-liner about our tendency to classify people by offensive criteria. “We wouldn’t have stereotypes,” the saying goes, “if they weren’t so often true.” This is the logic which we use to justify the cruel humor of prejudice. We retell as if we are only strumming a chord of truth. We laugh because we all have anecdotes that support the claim. Yet there is no moral nor scientific rationale that would uphold such awful and divisive words. We know innately that broad statements require prudence. Stereotyping is wrong.

Despite the certainty of this imperative, every aspect of our social fabric is dominated by preconceptions and generalizations. We characterize leaders as people who speak up, so those that dominate the conversation are promoted beyond their ability. We capitalize on the the themes of flighty, beautiful women and socially-awkward brainiacs. We reduce entire nations to simplistic caricatures. We pigeonhole to absurdity.

Change Not Permitted

Our obsession with crude classification means that choosing something different is a logistical horror show. The worst part about switching your major in junior year is not the administrative paperwork or the additional coursework. Rather, bailing on art history and heading to journalism means you will spend the next few years of your life reminding every acquaintance and distant family member that you no longer plan to work in museums. Your assertions will grow more firm and flustered as you repeat them to the same people. Our tidy stereotypes cannot weather the complex nuances of individual choice. Change is hard; getting others to actually remember that you’ve changed is often more work than the initial reinvention.

The Dying Renaissance Monkey

The British anthropologist Robin Dunbar once theorized that the cortex of the typical primate is limited to about 150 meaningful social relationships. Much beyond “Dunbar’s number” humans, apes and chimpanzees tend to associate every person they can identify with a single fixed concept. Hence you probably think of Britney Spears as a teenage pop sensation (even though she is actually 28.)

Not only does Dunbar’s number help keep your social calendar under control, it’s also tremendously useful in our professional lives. If the 1,000+ people in your extended network have you stereotyped as a divorce lawyer, you’re more likely to get the call when your second cousin’s ex-roommate wants to dump his spouse. Though it may seem self-aggrandizing, it really is best for people who don’t personally know you to think of you in a particular and consistent way. Go ahead and answer the old icebreaker question about what it is that you “do.”

Dunbar’s number might be the buzz engine of the focused, but it’s pure tragedy for the extroverted Renaissance Man or Woman. The more you talk excitedly about various random interests, the more you confuse the primates beyond your personal circle. Some will think of you as the Chinese language student, others will classify you as the obsessive football fan and a few will stereotype you as an amateur movie critic. A cornucopia of ever-changing hobbies might be good for the soul but it’s bad for business. We remember strangers by what is written on the box. Stuff yourself into one if you want to be remembered.

My Confession

I hate the niche. Specialization is my nemesis. My passion and my path is to be an expert in a few areas, highly competent in several fields, passable in hundreds of activities and fascinated by everything. I want desperately to embrace indifference about what others think of me. I seek to be my odd, distinctive self, remembered by strangers for whatever curiosity appeared in our interaction. In short, I believed the innocent advice of cartoons and counselors and motivational posters: Be yourself.

Yet the tyranny of the niche insists that to be successful, you cannot truly be yourself. Instead we must consistently present a carefully architected version of ourselves that will be readily and accurately converted into a productive stereotype. This suggestion feels so calculated and yet so necessary. Failure to pursue this strategy results in my life today: wonderfully satisfying, yet frequently misconstrued. My ability to find work is severely oppressed by the conflicting ways I am described. Too few people know me in the way I need to be known in order to succeed.

Everything Must Go

I choose to yield to the niche. All those parts of my psychosocial makeup that create echoes of confusion must make way for a coherent personal brand. First out is my interest in technology. Although I can write software, assemble computers, argue over standards, lament technical failures and make fixes to much that is only slightly broken, I must cease advertising these talents. As far as you’re concerned, my gearhead days are at a close.

I am not a world-class programmer. Rather, I recognize that my fellow primates tend to lump all technical experts into the same class of inaccessible magicians. Even though my skills are merely on par with millions of amateurs, I intend to lie by omission. I don’t want people to think of me as a computer jockey, because I need the space in their minds to think of me as something else.

My next elective surgery is the public admission of an interest in mathematics. Like computers, many people consider math to be unbearably difficult and reserved for egghead super-geniuses. Rather than continue to argue about the actual complexity of arithmetic, geometric and logical reasoning, I will instead avoid cocktail party interjections about infinity and cardinality or homeomorphisms. Both of these examples are far more fascinating than technical. I will refrain from presenting them for fear of diluting my personal brand.

Both of these changes will require willful deceptions. When asked about my past, I will need to deftly move the subject to the present. Instead of admitting my past career in technology or that I studied mathematics as an undergrad, I’ll need a line that ensures my background does not overshadow my message. Perhaps a selective inclusion of facts will suffice: “I’ve jumped around a bit, but now I am focused exclusively on productivity and workflow.”

There will be other painful extractions. I took a gap year in 2004-2005 to backpack around Europe. A manuscript from that adventure has since been surfing the slush piles at traditional publishers. If one decides to bite, I may need a pseudonym. Likewise, I have half a textbook on web design from my days as an associate faculty member in School of Engineering and Technology at IUPUI. Though I am proud of this work, it may need to be buried so it does not confuse how others perceive me. My next book, which is forthcoming, shall therefore be called my first. It’s mostly about the person I am now presenting myself to be.

Death of a Salesman

No obsession will be more difficult to abandon than my adoration of the polemic. Producing Turning Left Against Traffic each month is perhaps my most satisfying project. I love to labor over each sentence. I select words like a jeweler sifting through stones. I consider writing a joyous, soulfilling craft.

Yet my interest in eccentric language is another distractor from the brand. A friend within my Dunbar circle openly admitted that my blog “makes her head hurt.” People outside probably think of me as some guy who writes esoteric patronizing diatribes. That’s also not good.

Call this post a junction in the allegory of life as travel. I’m giving up my public image of a man of many interests. I am past the nervous excitement of turning left against traffic and have merged into the flow. My path is now straight and clear. Anyone at any distance should be able to tell where I am headed.

Expect a new era for Turning Left Against Traffic. Since readers expect a casual, conversational tone for blogs, I will eschew abstruse locutions in favor of everyday talk. I will refrain from nerdy excursions into science, technology, mathematics, or social media. I will stay on message. I will build the brand.

Death precedes rebirth. There is fire, then ashes and then the Phoenix. A part of us must be ripped asunder for the rest to become stronger. I therefore accept the tyranny of the niche. I embrace that I must focus. Distinction lies ahead.

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