Down With Authenticity!
Well, one thing we know: you're no fake. You're a genuine idiot! (North By Northwest)
One of the most refreshing Op-Ed pieces in ages appeared in yesterday's Times. In "Our Overrated Inner Self," sociologist Orlando Patterson came out and dismissed the concern for "authenticity" as an impediment to the working of civil society. It's about time.
I couldn’t care less whether my neighbors and co-workers are authentically sexist, racist or ageist. What matters is that they behave with civility and tolerance, obey the rules of social interaction and are sincere about it. The criteria of sincerity are unambiguous: Will they keep their promises? Will they honor the meanings and understandings we tacitly negotiate? Are their gestures of cordiality offered in conscious good faith?
As Professor Patterson says, the American warp on authenticity has led the electorate to support George W Bush as somehow "real," while it has prodded the pundits and the press to suspect that Hillary Clinton is a "fake." Beyond foolish consistency, I can't see what distinguishes "real" from "fake" in these cases. Mr Bush is a genuine bully whose mind has been genuinely sealed shut as an alternative treatment for alcoholism. Ms Clinton is a politician, that is, someone whose compromises are informed by core values. (Otherwise, she would just be an opportunist.) Mr Bush is utterly insincere - you might even say, authentically insincere. Ms Clinton is obviously trying.
Trying is good. Setting out to be a better person means accepting that one is not yet a better person. "Authenticity" would prohibit self-improvement. "Authenticity" has enabled hundreds of thousands of loutish males to complain to their better halves, "You're trying to change me!" Well, yes, that is the idea: you can't become a better person without changing. And you can't change without trying to change.
Eventually, at least with persistence, the attempt produces a real transformation. Why get lost in the semantics of authenticity? Genuine transformation is good; it's more than good: it is enough. Who you were when you started out is simply not important. And there is no better example of the beauty of deliberate personal metamorphosis than the late Cary Grant.
In later life, the actor would say, "Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant." A balder admission of inauthenticity cannot be conceived, and yet the record of Grant's life - not just his films, but his personal dealings as well - could hardly have been more admirable, short of helping out Mother Teresa. He worked on himself constantly, grooming his character as scrupulously as his hair, and eventually - as Aristotle assures us will happen - his good habits made him a good man.
So take your pick. Are you happier with an inauthentic, self-made gentleman whose word is his bond and whose eagerness to make you comfortable is automatic? Or would you prefer an authentic lunk, incapable of pushing beyond the least resistance?
Historically, the concern for authenticity followed an era of widespread hypocrisy. But authenticity is not the antidote. Sincerity is. Sincerity brings hypocrisy to an immediate halt. Sincerity rules out opportunistic self-improvement. It legitimates change.
Although I'm not a religious person, I agree with the Christian proposition that we are all authentic sinners. And that, I would hope, is a point of departure.
