Arrested Development and Philosophy_ They've Made a Huge Mistake - Kristopher G. Phillips [41]
The Important Thing Is That You Guys Don’t Lose Focus on Yourselves: Narcissism as a Crisis of Bourgeois Identity
In thinking through the Bluth’s social practices, anxiety about class status, and dysfunctional family ties it’s worth thinking about another feature of the Bluths’ psychology: namely, their relationship to themselves. They’re selfish, self-centered, self-aggrandizing, and self-righteous, all without any real insight into their own inner lives or motivations. The Bluths for the most part operate without any attention to why they may be doing the things they do or wanting the things they want. And it isn’t clear that they’re interested in investigating how their behavior hooks up to the world, let alone how their actions impact those around them. A culture of narcissism permeates the Bluths’s world. In addition to opting out of conventional labor and family responsibilities, they opt out of genuine human relationships whenever possible.
Consider, for example, Lindsay’s self-aggrandizing political “activism” (HOOP and anti-circumcision, protesting the war in Iraq only when she finds out her hair stylist is being sent to the front, or helping Johnny Bark protect the trees near the Bluths’ housing tract lot until she realizes that this entails a lack of modern plumbing). Unlike legitimate political activism that arises from homegrown struggles for equality, justice, and liberation, Lindsay’s activism is born of attention seeking. When she ends up dancing in front of a crowd at a war protest (in “Whistler’s Mother”), Lindsay discovers that “the activism that came out of her desire for prettier hair did in fact boost her self-esteem.” Later in the series, Lindsay stops by an anti-gun protest to check out the scene, not having “picked a side” yet. Then, despite her shouts of “murderer” she is swayed by television’s “Frank Wrench” and flips sides to the anti-gun-control movement. Her motivation for defending the separation of church and state, similarly, comes after she stubs her toe on a statue of the Ten Commandments at the courthouse. Lindsay is not authentically invested in the positions she defends (how can we forget this triad: “No More Meat!” “No More Fish!” and “More Meat and Fish!”?). As an outsider to these political struggles, she finds herself fulfilled by the attention she receives without actually having to hold any political, social, or ethical commitments.
Or consider the family’s lack of sensitivity following Buster’s seal accident. After Buster’s hand gets bitten off, his mother and siblings can barely contain their disgust and resentment. They are unsympathetic to the point where even the sight of Buster—or sitting too close in the stair car—is perceived as an unreasonable burden. The Bluths lacks the simple human capacities to take the needs and desires of others—even their own kin!—into account. This narcissism—this lack of attention or care paid to others’ lives and interests—functions as a privilege. There’s something specifically bourgeois about this pathology. Because their wealth, status, and suburban location insulate them from unwanted human contact, the Bluths are afforded the luxury of spending their time worrying about themselves rather than others. The psychopathology behind Buster’s panic attacks, Gob’s Spring Break binges, and Tobias’s time-sink acting career delusions are made possible by the Bluths’s financial wherewithal. The Bluths’s considerable resources enable a lifestyle of opting out of genuine human interactions. The result of this privilege—narcissism—is a siege on human communication and meaningful relationships.
What, then, can we say about the pathology structuring the Bluths’ lives? How are the dsyfunctionality, narcissism, and anxiety related to their class status?