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Elon Musk’s preferred book is The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. He interprets it as a guide to “enlarge the scope and scale of consciousness,” attributing significant importance to a Monty Python associate’s comical experiment. After reading Walter Isaacson’s consistently unenlightening new biography on Musk, it becomes evident that jokes have no effect on this man.
However, isn’t this often the case with winners?
Occasionally, Amazon Prime films closely follow a top-tier sports team throughout a season. They all share a non-ironic work environment. Motivational slogans cover every large surface. (Even Arsenal’s dog is named Win.) Bonding activities, which would embarrass a KPMG off-site event, are organized. Experts from other industries or academia’s more whimsical side are brought in to offer flimsy “insights”. You keep expecting the athletes to dismiss this David Brent-ery with laughter.
But the cringe never comes. If there is even the slightest advantage to be gained, they want it. If not, they believe there’s nothing to lose in trying. Fear of seeming earnest or having a lapse in taste is irrelevant.
Allow me to present a third case study: Burning Man. Recently, the festival was ridiculed when it got rained out. Its mission statement is vacuous and poorly written (“The touchstone of value in our culture will always be immediacy”). Its quest to reshape the world through Stoicism, Effective Altruism, or whatever the trendy philosophy of the week is, seems juvenile. Furthermore, listen to the rising intonation with which regular attendees say the name of the festival. It sounds as if they’re asking if you mind the Nevada heat (“Burning, man?”). I personally dislike this annual crucible of near-religious earnestness and irony.
But a Burner might argue, “That’s exactly the point.” I am someone moderately successful in a declining profession who rarely faces significant risks. Individuals dealing with higher stakes must shield themselves from the cynicism and archness of the wider culture. Irony accomplishes nothing. It is the creed of passive observers. Not everyone who lacks irony is a winner, of course. However, many winners are incapable of irony.
The same applies to nations. Great Britain’s ironic talent truly blossomed when the country lost its global significance. If you believe it to be an inherent national trait, take a look at a public building from the Victorian era or thereabouts. The sternest, least playful architectural style since the Middle Ages coincided with British dominion over a large portion of the world. A nation that commissioned the Viceroy’s House in Delhi cannot claim to have always possessed a sense of absurdity. No, that sense came with national decline. It emerged with the rise of the humorless Americans, who could be ridiculed for not grasping life’s great joke. Irony is, or can be, the comfort toy of the also-ran.
On Wednesday night, the Champions League anthem resonated at the Emirates Stadium for the first time since 2017. For those unfamiliar, it is a Handel-esque composition: a series of grandiose choral statements in English, French, and German accompanied by militaristic horns and orchestral crescendos. One expects to see rococo cherubs floating overhead with gold-leaf harps. Even the protocol surrounding the anthem is severe: Uefa supposedly forbids any other music to be played afterwards. Fans have even been known to drown it out with boos. It is the most pompous spectacle in sports. It is immodest and vainglorious. And I love it.
Or at least, I’m glad that the spirit it represents—earnest striving—exists. Irony is a delightful embellishment in life. It lightens the mood and occasionally puts individuals like Musk, who face so few challenges, in their place. However, it can never be the driving force if you wish to achieve something meaningful as an individual or a nation. Ils sont les meilleurs. Sie sind die Besten. These are the champions. Look at their resolute faces.
Email Janan at [email protected]
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