Book review: Troubled

Rob Henderson's childhood in foster care & his "luxury beliefs" framework

In the last few years I’ve realized that although we might not always understand their purpose, our cultural norms provide solutions to problems we once struggled with as a society. Our norms, habits and traditions exist for a reason, and western countries are bastions of individual freedom and liberty, at least compared to historical standards, precisely because we have a framework that allows us to work together and thrive. Some of the most prevalent norms may include,

• Religion and community

• Treatment of the poor and downtrodden

• Worker’s rights

• The rule of law

• Hiring norms

• Educational standards

• The institution of marriage

• A respect for foreign cultures

• And so forth…

We may not always grok what a cultural norm is meant to accomplish, but that doesn’t mean they don’t serve a purpose. For example, we’ve recently seen famous atheists like Richard Dawkins backtrack on their aggressive goal of secularizing the west. Dawkins and others have realized that convincing Americans and Europeans to give up their religion isn’t going to lead to another enlightenment period.

In practice, without a Christian framework to guide their actions people can be tempted to adopt other, darker creeds. Adrift in nihilistic modernity, Johnny starts calling himself Jenny and gets it into her head to throw soup on the Mona Lisa because she wants to change the weather. This might generously be called a de-evolution in our societal arc.

Progress?

Structure is another often underappreciated service that culture can provide. For instance, not so long ago I read about the daily existence of medieval Europeans. While these societies had many problems: tyranny, unaccountable leaders, working class exploitation, etc., in some ways our distant ancestors enjoyed a certain stability that’s largely unavailable today.

A man studied as an apprentice until he’d learned a skill to mastery, at which point he was all but guaranteed steady employment for the rest of his life. A blacksmith need not fear redundancy. In our modern society it’s hard to know what skills will be valued ten or twenty years in the future. Just a few years ago computer programming seemed like one of the best jobs to pursue, but now ChatGPT has thrown that career path into flux. Our sense of security and continuity has been shattered, and people have begun to act strange because of it.

Structure and stability isn’t just necessary on the macro level though. As Rob Henderson points out, structure is incredibly important for kids too. Children who grow up in a chaotic environment like the foster care system are more likely to go prison, get addicted to drugs and/or to have unhealthy relationships in their adult life.

Rob would know. Rob’s childhood was like living inside a washing machine. Ten different families, if I remember correctly, before finally being adopted by his mother. There was never a longstanding father either. After Rob’s adopted parents divorced his father refused to speak with Rob to enact grim revenge on his mother. I cannot conceive of how awful that must have felt. This is but one scene of many, revealing to us the hellishly unstable childhood that Rob miraculously extricated himself from.

As with any good memoir, Rob is admirably honest in this book. To such an extent that several scenes evoked a temporary dislike for our author. I was particularly pissed when Rob took a baseball bat out of his trunk and smashed the windshield of a random person’s car. Logically I knew why he’d done it; an extreme childhood and an unhealthy relationship with emotions, but logic didn’t make that brief story any more palatable. Nor was it easy to read about the jarring events that brought Rob to a point where smashing windshields seemed like a thing one ought to do. Troubled is not always a pleasant book to read, but it is very well-written.

Luxury beliefs

If you’re familiar with Rob Henderson it’s probably because of his brilliant “luxury beliefs” framework. Luxury beliefs, as defined by Rob, are “ideas and opinions that confer status on the upper class at little cost, while often inflicting costs on the lower classes.”

When weighing the decision to purchase Troubled you should know that the book is first and foremost a recounting of Rob’s childhood in the foster care system. The theory of luxury beliefs fills but a smallish number of pages near the end of the book. At least, that’s one way of looking at it. Another interpretation is that the entire memoir is about luxury beliefs, as we gradually discover the two decades of instability that gave Rob a framework to interpret the anti-logic value systems of his upper class compatriots at Yale.

For an example of this anti-logic value system please consider this choice moment in which Rob learns, much to his amazement, that he’s too privileged!!! to understand the emotional atrocity a professor has committed by suggesting that, hold on tight please, students should figure out their own Halloween costumes without the administration getting involved.

A student from Greenwich, Connecticut, who had attended Phillips Exeter Academy (an expensive private boarding school), explained that I was too privileged to understand the harm these professors had caused. At first I was stunned. But later, I came to understand the intellectual acrobatics necessary to say something like this. The student who called me “privileged” likely meant that due to my background as a biracial Asian Latino heterosexual cisgender (that is, I “present” as the sex I was “assigned” at birth) male, this means that I have led a privileged life.

However, I also learned that many inhabitants of elite universities assign a great deal of importance to “lived experience.” This means that your unique personal hardships serve as important credentials to expound on social ills and suggest remedies.

These two ideas appeared to be contradictory. Which is more relevant to identity, one’s discernible characteristics (gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and so on) or what they actually went through in their lives? I asked two students this question. One replied that this question was dangerous to ask. The other said that one’s discernible characteristics determine what experiences they have in their lives. This means that if you belong to a “privileged” group, then you must have had a privileged life.

Notice that the definition of a luxury belief contains two parts.

1. A thing believed by the upper class.

2. A thing which inflicts a cost on the lower class.

Here’s an example of the second point. Rob discovered that most of the students at Yale were in excellent physical shape. Despite their below-average BMIs, when queried about health and fitness these skinny Jimmies and waifish Wandas regurgitated gibberish about how we can’t have any fat shaming and how it’s critical that we celebrate alternative lifestyles. Of course these students don’t want to be obese, but they’re happy to encourage others to be.

There was a striking absence of obesity among the [Yale] students—many of them seemed to be preoccupied with their weight and image. I learned a term I’d never heard before: fat shaming. It was remarkable that students who seldom consumed sugary drinks and often closely adhered to nutrition and fitness regiments were also attempting to create a taboo around discussions of obesity. The unspoken oath seemed to be, “I will carefully monitor my health and fitness, but will not broadcast the importance of what I am doing, because that is fat shaming.”

The same phenomenon holds true for marriage. Students claimed that the institution of marriage is outdated, yet an overwhelming majority of them benefitted from growing up in a two parent household. Furthermore, when pressed for details most students acknowledged their intention to get married. The students want a stable home life, but if other people who aren’t them want to have kids out of wedlock, we should encourage that.

A former classmate at Yale told me “monogamy is kind of outdated” and not good for society. I asked her what her background is and if she planned to marry. She said she came from an affluent family, was raised by both of her parents, and that, yes, she personally intended to have a monogamous marriage—but quickly added that marriage shouldn’t have to be for everyone.

Not to sound too dramatic, but isn’t this all kind of… evil? The ostensible elites, the theoretical leaders of our society, are eating healthy and getting married while prattling on about how it’s cool to be fat and have a kid out of wedlock. If one were to be especially cynical, you might even say that this is all done deliberately. The elites feel threatened because there are too many of them (see my review of End Times and the theory of elite overproduction) so they espouse ideas that will remove other people from the competition pool.

I watched students claim that investment banks were emblematic of capitalist oppression, and then discovered that they’d attended recruitment sessions for Goldman Sachs.

Gradually I came to believe that many of these students were broadcasting the belief that such firms were evil in order to undercut their rivals. If they managed to convince you that a certain occupation is corrupt and thus to be avoided, then that was one less competitor they had in their quest to be hired.

One could conclude that if you did the opposite of everything the elites suggest, after a few years your life would be pretty damn good!

Why now?

At this juncture we might ask: how did we get here? Why now?

We return to our theme of cultural norms. Society requires a way for the elites to differentiate themselves from working and middle class folk. A high status marker may be noxious, like riding in a palanquin carried by eight slaves. Or it may be relatively benign, like driving a Cadillac instead of a Ford.

Historically our elites used luxury products like expensive cars, trendy vacations and large homes as a way to peacock their status. The problem, as Rob formulates it, is that luxury goods have lost their luster. Driving a Cadillac in 1960 was kind of a big deal… Today, not so much. My childhood neighbor Mrs. Sweetman drove a Cadillac, an expensive one too, and she taught 11th grade social studies.

As luxury goods have become more widely available, the elites and elite aspirants have had to devise other ways to draw a line between themselves and the unwashed masses. Enter luxury beliefs. The elites love these beliefs because they do two things. They fend off the unenlightened commoners, and they come impregnated with moral superiority too!

Broadcasting personal feelings of emotional precarity and supposed powerlessness was part of the campus culture [at Yale]. Conspicuously lamenting systemic disadvantage seemed to serve as both a signal and reinforcer of membership in this rarefied group of future elites. Many students would routinely claim that systemic forces were working against them, yet they seemed pleased to demonstrate how special they were for rising above those impediments. This spawned a potent blend of victimhood and superiority.

In my article Welcome to Wokeistan I compared modern woke language to speaking French in Tsarist Russia, and I think this analogy has held up well.

The upper echelons of society instructed their children in a second language, most commonly French. One’s ability to speak French was a proxy for status, as the peasants only knew Русский язык.

If you spoke French yourself, you could casually drop a few words with the person you were speaking to. Their ability to reply, or not, would give you a clue to as their status. The same thing happens today. Complain about white fragility and see how your conversation partner reacts. In an instant you can find out whether you’re dealing with a backwards ass deplorable, or an upstanding citizen with a fine moral compass.

Students at elite universities aren’t being taught to hone their minds; they’re learning how to speak and act in ways that signal their status. When an employer like Google wants to hire someone they can’t ask if they’ve come from an upper class background, but they can demand that every job applicant write a five-hundred word essay about intersectionality.

Afterwards the HR department can quickly create two piles. Those who’ve answered the question correctly, and then the rejects who jotted down the perfectly reasonable reply of: what in the unholiest of gibberish hells are you speaking of?

Your typical working-class American could not tell you what heteronormative or cisgender means. But if you visit an elite college, you’ll find plenty of affluent people who will eagerly explain them to you. When someone uses the phrase cultural appropriation, what they are really saying is, “I was educated at a top college.”

Conclusions

After I finished reading Troubled I had a thought... You could give this book to a friend or family member who you’ve tragically lost to the current thing. You know the guy, “we have to save Ukraine!” But he can’t find the European continent on a map if you gave him three tries.

Or the gal who’s out marching for queers for Palestine, because reasons… Rob Henderson’s memoir is a brilliant sneak attack because you can slide it in under the radar. Rob is a mixed race Latino and Korean man from California. He grew up in foster care, graduated from Yale and has been published in the New York Times.

These things do not change how I think about Rob or his book. I am (and you probably are too) mercifully blessed with an ability to measure a person’s merits based on the quality of their ideas, not the color of their skin, sexual orientation or matriculation. However, Mr. Current Thing places great stock in labels, identities and markers of victimhood. So like wrapping the heart worm pill in cheese, just mention Rob’s lived experience and the sale will be easy.

By the time your friend or family member gets to the section about luxury beliefs their cognitive dissonance will be off the charts. Mr. Current Thing will be forced to admit that a person who checks almost all their victimhood boxes is telling them that modern activism is harming the people it purports to elevate. This could actually lead to a real conversation! Imagine that.

After you’ve exploded your friend’s brain should you read a copy of the book yourself? Yes, if you want to understand what it’s like to grow up in foster care and how a chaotic environment can create a disconnect between expectations, actions and outcomes. The emotional callouses that form from abandonment, the suppression of hope, and the quest for immediate gratification at the expense of long term achievement. This is the story of how Rob dealt with adversity, sometimes in all the wrong ways, but eventually found a recipe for success that brought him out of rural California and into our Substack universe. Troubled is an honest memoir from a man who got out.

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