I have a problem with status, by which I mean someone’s social or professional standing or rank. But my problem is not what you think — I’m not offended by the pursuit of status. People should strive for and receive acknowledgement for their accomplishments. I have a problem when someone mistakenly pairs their status at work with their own value or worth as a person. Among co-workers, the narrow-minded pursuit of status creates an environment that is more like a medieval power-structure or class-based society than a place where the basic purpose is to do a job, and do it well.
When I was in grade school, I ignored the game of status, (unlike my savvy, well-adjusted peers). I didn’t understand what made the most popular girl so great — she had nice hair, but how often did she smile? I stood up to grade-school bullies who were much bigger than me, not just because I thought they were being mean, but because I thought they were being ridiculous. Why did they think they could pick on other kids? We were all the same, with the same wants. No one was better than anyone else.
I recognized the game of status more often as I matured, but I often ran into situations where I missed the status memo. Why did my adolescent friends care about what kind of car my parents drove? Why was an A in geometry more highly valued, and more indicative of intelligence, than an A in art? Why was a reputable college also an overly expensive one? Why couldn’t I make a living as an artist or a writer without starving?
More Status-Minded Now Than Ever Before
During my freshman year of college, a friend told me about an online community for college students where members provided personal details on their social and school-career status, and professional aspirations, as in depth and often as they liked. This piqued my interest, despite the story that some guy at a prestigious school somewhere in the US had created the site in his dorm room, and inclusion required an invitation from a current member. My friend (who was a member) was pleased by my interest, and logged in for me so I could take a look (after I promised that I wouldn’t “touch” anything).
I was instantly intrigued, and repulsed. The community, as far as I could see, was nothing more than a place for unending self-gossip and status-promotion. No apparent benefit offset the exclusivity and narcissism the site encouraged. Plus, what busy college student had the time and energy required to continually “check in”? I logged off, confident that the premise would remain contained within the worn-out keyboards and distracted minds of only the most self-centric college students, forever. No way would the “me-ism” and compulsive status-unveiling spread to the mature real world.
Today, per a report from GlobalWebIndex, the average person between the ages of 16 and 64 has 7.6 social media accounts. Care to guess how much time the average person spends on social media sites per day? According to the same report — over two hours. What’s more, there are 3.499 billion active social media users, among a global population of 7.7 billion. LinkedIn, a career-networking site, now features active profiles for 154 million American workers, and reportedly, two professionals join LinkedIn every second. If these figures for LinkedIn indicate a trend, then the push to promote our professional status may soon rival the already undeniable drive to increase our social status online, as LinkedIn expertly turns “networking,” i.e. status-reporting, into an expected part of any successful career.
Stand Out in a Status-Reporting Culture
Here’s what I know about the effects of blindly pursuing status in the workplace: First, the most ambitious pursuers of status don’t seem, in person, happier than the rest of us. In addition, status-driven careerists must never slow or take time off in the cultivation of a higher rank — competition is fierce. Also, the attainment of high status creates social borders that divide and isolate, rather than connect, those in the game. At least one study shows that in-person and meaningful interactions increase feelings of connectivity, and for those who do not engage with others in this way, loneliness abounds. Finally, status pursuits in hierarchical environments (like work) heighten and spread the faulty idea that some people are better than others.
In my own career, while I never found it difficult to show a boss respect, I had trouble with displaying anything beyond respect, like deference or adulation (two benefits often thought to be enjoyed by those with high status). In truth, this got me into trouble. Sometimes I was a bit too independent in my decision-making than my bosses (especially the micro-managers) preferred. But I couldn’t help my default thinking, honed in my youth — that no matter who my boss was, as humans, we were more similar than different.
So, if I am aware that my status at work does not define me, yet I intend to pursue recognition for my accomplishments, then how should I improve my status at work? In addition, how do I stand out in a status-reporting culture? Based on what I’ve experienced, there is one simple key: be consistently and genuinely helpful. That’s it. I don’t need a top-ten tip-list or manipulative social tricks to increase my status. I just need to generously share my knowledge and skill set.
The people I admire most, especially at work, are those I can turn to when I need guidance. The rich and famous, or those who ruthlessly seek status, are not in that group. I seek to emulate those seen by my peers as an authority, or as someone who has valuable knowledge, and who is generous with what they know. For example, a popular person who smiles genuinely and often, and is generous in making friends, in my mind, is a high-status person. A boss who shares their knowledge and cultivates their employees’ careers, to me, is another example of a high-status person.
High Status Needs an Update
High status, by my definition, has little to do with job title, type of office (corner or cubicle), or salary. To exist, status must be perceived by others. Thus, my co-workers determine my status. For me, I achieve high status when a co-worker or boss sees me as reliable, knowledgeable, and generous.
In a study of 161 participants in a workplace environment, results showed that generosity related positively to social status and, as a bonus, productivity rose for co-workers who increased their favor-exchanges. In other words, 161 co-workers ranked their generous peers higher, socially, than they ranked those who were not consistently helpful, or who were uninterested in exchanging favors. In this scenario, I can guess how an employee’s evident generosity and productivity made them stand out, and ranked with their boss.
A related side note: there is a best practice for being a generous person at work, or what authors Adam Grant and Reb Rebele call a productive giver. In their article ‘Beat Generosity Burnout’, for Harvard Business Review, they provide detail on what it takes to achieve the ideal balance, or how to be thoughtful at work about whom you help, how you help, and when you help. Rebele and Grant assert that co-workers often confuse generosity with selflessness, and offer evidence that kindness doesn’t mean 24/7 availability. The idea is to be generous in low-cost, high-impact ways, and to enjoy the experience.
I now wonder what it would be like if everyone sought to improve their status, especially at work, with awareness and generosity, rather than stepping over and on others to reach a certain job title and salary. Would we restore the good in seeking recognition for our accomplishments, and improve, rather than harm, our work environments? Would we see our own value and worth more clearly? If so, I would have no problem with that.