What Is Your Worth?

Once, I witnessed a woman make a fiery statement during a discussion among friends:

“(…) It is indeed necessary to make it very clear that we women, precisely because we are strong, beautiful, and independent, are not sitting on a shelf waiting for some man to choose us (poor little things) and grace us with the honor of his phallic company.”

My friends, who aren’t trained in science, are easily misled by what scientists call ‘observation selection.’ This is when we pay attention to events that confirm our expectations, whatever they may be, and ignore (or are unaware of) those that contradict them. They are literate, intelligent, and keen observers, but because of this, they often find patterns where none exist—whether in the movement of stars (astrology) or in the actions of others (conspiracy theories).

This phenomenon is well-documented and has two main causes: the fact that evolution has selected us to recognize patterns and our tendency to commit Type I errors more often than Type II errors (see ‘sensitivity and specificity’).

(Side note: It’s worth remembering that the risk of believing something untrue (Type I error) is generally lower than the risk of failing to believe something true (Type II error). In daily life, the first might make you a bit late, expend some extra energy, or overthink, while the latter could cost you your life. If this hasn’t clicked yet, you might want to watch Michael Shermer’s TED talk—he’s the editor of Skeptics magazine. It’s very illustrative.)

Our senses are easily numbed by what is commonplace. More than that, the ability to deceive ourselves is a fundamental skill for the equally important ability to deceive others, which, according to prominent researchers like Robert Trivers and Noam Chomsky, brings significant evolutionary advantages.
But we can’t always go on deceiving ourselves, whether through Type I or Type II errors—not without it leading to substantial harm (material, psychological, or evolutionary). The greatest obstacle to self-deception is ‘other people.’ Other people won’t always let you deceive yourself, especially when acting on a non-existent reality affects them.

One of the things we deceive ourselves about most is our value. ‘Value’ here is understood broadly: what we can contribute to others or the world.

A complicating factor in assessing value is that it depends on circumstances. Everyone who has stayed at a party until the end knows this: the most attractive person at the end of the party is rarely the most attractive at the beginning (unless they arrive and leave with you). The first thing to learn about the evolutionary process is that the only consistently good strategy is not to have a fixed strategy and to constantly reevaluate the best course of action—all the time.

We all want to be special. It’s understandable: our senses aren’t easily awakened by what is ordinary. But the blunt truth is that few of us are. And who decides our value? Other people. You can complain, deny, sulk—it doesn’t matter. That’s how it is. Period. (At least console yourself with the fact that you help determine the value of others.)

Everyone, both men and women, is looking for beauty. It’s easy to say men want to marry beautiful women and women want to marry rich and powerful men, but the paradoxical truth is that most of us will never have a chance. In a monogamous society, most beautiful women are already married to dominant men. And Mr. and Mrs. “Average-Looking” (whom some mock as “well-dressed ugly people”)? They settle for the second option. But what about the less attractive ones? They end up with the third, fourth, or fifth options.

Ah, now you’re going to tell me about a friend of yours who’s unattractive and poor but married a young, beautiful woman. Well, it’s possible—but such a big exception that, honestly, everyone ends up wondering, “What did she see in him?”

More likely, in that case, it’s about what she didn’t see in herself. We are wired to assess, even unconsciously, other people’s reactions to us and instinctively understand our relative value—unless you’re like Hal, who, despite being Jack Black, only fell for perfect women. No, love isn’t blind.

You don’t agree? You think everyone is equal in the ‘eyes of God’? Well, researcher Bruce Ellis has shown it’s just as I’m saying—or rather, I’m describing it as he demonstrated. You can even replicate the same experiment he conducted with thirty volunteers to see how our associative mating model works.

He gave each participant a numbered card to stick to their forehead. Each person could see others’ numbers but didn’t know their own. The instructions were simple: “pair up with the highest number you could find”. As soon as the game began, the person with a ’30’ on their forehead was surrounded by a large group. This made them raise their expectations, becoming selective and eventually pairing with someone in the high twenties. Meanwhile, the person with a ‘1’” after failing to convince the ’30’ of their worth, targeted lower numbers, eventually pairing with the first person who accepted them—probably a ‘2.’

I can already see the sociologists shuddering. Fine, let me put it another way—or better yet, use Vinícius de Moraes’ words:

“Ugly women, forgive me, but beauty is essential.”

When it’s a poet speaking, there’s much less backlash.

Nature doesn’t care much about people’s frustrations. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care.

“Anyway, I didn’t want it.”

You can’t become Brad Pitt overnight—or any day, really—but you can do things that are good for your health (like exercise) or mind (like reading) that might help you climb two or three steps on Ellis’s scale. The sooner you come to terms with your position, the fewer frustrations you’ll face.

First published in Portuguese in ‘Você que é Biólogo…’ in January, 2010.