Why do so many people hate Martha Stewart? How does a home-decorating
and entertaining expert with a sweet, wholesome public persona come to be
portrayed as a major cultural villain? Consider the past week's media
frenzy over charges that Stewart engaged in "insider trading." The
reaction in the press and by members of Congress—who have launched an
investigation—is far out of proportion to the actual evidence or the
alleged crime. Nor can this case explain the eagerness with which snide
columnists and catty morning talk-show hosts contemplate the prospect of
seeing Martha in prison—joking, as one host did, about whether her cell
will have matching curtains. There is only one explanation for this tone
of vicious glee. Martha is hated because she's a tall poppy. I've been
told that there is an Australian saying: "You have to cut down the tall
poppies." In other words, anyone who dares to poke his head above the
crowd must be attacked, denigrated, and brought down to the common level.
I don't know whether this Tall Poppy Syndrome, as it is called, is really
typical of Australian culture—but it is a widespread trend in American
culture, and Martha Stewart is one of its favorite targets.
Martha-hatred is an established cottage industry, peddled in
dozens of books and television profiles purporting to reveal Stewart as a
shrewish employer, a neglectful mother, a cold wife, an ungrateful
daughter, and everything else you could dream up. One charge keeps
recurring as the central thread—and real motive—of all these claims:
Martha is too perfect. The problem with Martha Stewart, we are told, is
that the lifestyle she promotes in her books, magazines, and television
shows projects an "unattainable" perfection. Her kitchen is too clean, her
house is too beautiful, her parties are too elegant. She gets too much
done in a day. Such perfection, the charge goes, merely makes everyone
else feel inadequate because they can't measure up. This attitude is not
shared by Martha's many fans (and customers), even those whose
housekeeping is not as lavish as hers. Most people are able to appreciate
the accomplishments of others, even if they cannot match them. But for
those who suffer from Tall Poppy Syndrome, other people's achievements are
an affront, an intolerable reminder of their own shortcomings. These are
the people who desperately search for dirt to sling at celebrities, to
show that they aren't so good after all—and who rush to join any witch
hunt and repeat any allegation.
The Marth Stewart "scandal" is a case study in the Tall Poppy
Syndrome. First, it is important to grasp what a non-crime "insider
trading" is. The allegation is that Sam Waksal, CEO of the
drug-development company ImClone, phoned relatives and close friends to
warn them of an upcoming FDA ruling that would wreck his company's stock.
This "inside information" supposedly gave Stewart and others an "unfair"
advantage. In a "fair" world, apparently, investors are forced to hold on
to their stock even when they know it's going to crash. Martha's alleged
"crime" is not wanting to lose money. But even the evidence for this
pseudo-crime is lacking. Stewart, it turns out, had already sold much of
her stock in ImClone the previous month but, according to one source, she
was prevented by SEC limits from selling it all. This means that Martha
made the decision to sell long before the FDA's ruling. As for her phone
calls with Waksal, they are close friends and according to some reports
were once romantically linked. Is it the SEC's job to monitor the
friendships and love lives of CEOs? In fact, few commentators have
bothered to wait for evidence before passing judgment. The same people who
assume Martha is a shrew because she is "too perfect" also assume she's a
swindler because she's rich. No further evidence is needed.
Martha Stewart is not alone; ask Bill Gates what kind of welcome a
self-made man can expect today. Or consider the achievers who impose
restraints on themselves—as in Justice Stevens's recent death penalty
decision. A man nominated to the Supreme Court for his superior knowledge
and wisdom looks instead to public opinion polls to decide how government
may wield the power of life and death. Apparently Justice Stevens didn't
want to be a tall poppy. This trend is not merely ugly; it's dangerous. A
culture that hates its highest achievers will mow down its tall
poppies—and end up with nothing but weeds.
See IRG research reports
