PremiumOne reason people seem obsessed with Harry and Meghan is that they represent an important economic trend that resonates well beyond the British royal family: the rising tension between individual brands and the power and prestige of being part of an institution
One reason people seem obsessed with Harry and Meghan is that they represent an important economic trend that resonates well beyond the British royal family: the rising tension between individual brands and the power and prestige of being part of an institution. And it’s not just an issue for royal houses.
In the past, if money and security and status were what you craved, your path was clear: You got a job at the most prestigious institution you could and became a valuable team player. For this, you gave up some part of your identity. You wouldn’t be well-known to people outside your field or even within the company. To a large extent, this was a relic of industrialization. In its final phase, stars were for cinema, while office work meant heads down in dedication to the institution. In exchange for fealty, you received a slice of its success and prestige.
This has reversed. We have fewer movie stars but more high-profile people in other industries. For the film industry, it was a symbiotic relationship, for it relied on stars to pull people in. But the dynamic causes problems for other industries because it creates tension between being a star and being a good team player.
This dynamic has been very noticeable in media. Young journalists want to build their brand on social media by airing provocative opinions while also enjoying the resources and prestige of the firms that employ them. That’s a perilous proposition for employers. After all, top newspapers have spent decades on their reputations for top journalism and most of their journalists still do thoughtful work carefully without chasing the limelight. But for better or worse, these institutions can get associated with the social-media antics of a few who have leveraged their jobs to become stars.
You can’t entirely blame reporters for wanting to elevate their names. The media industry doesn’t offer the same job security it once did. And it’s happening elsewhere. Many industries reward superstars; they get higher salaries, fame and can monetize their own brand while everyone else is left behind. This is seen in fields from academia to public health, and even banking and the British royal family. The once-secretive Goldman Sachs is facing this tension. CEO David Solomon, who moonlights as DJ D-Sol, is making headlines by focusing on his hobbies and supposedly changing the culture to reward high-profile bankers involved in activities outside the firm rather than the grey-flannel suit types.
It has always been true that marketing yourself helps you get ahead. The difference now is that instead of it happening through internal politics, people are doing it on a wider stage, often beyond their firm and industry. Today’s economy not only rewards stars by paying them a premium, it also makes self-promotion easier. Social media has democratized attention and notoriety for those who crave it.
This also makes co-workers resentful. Not everyone can be a superstar, either because they don’t have the talent or temperament, or choose not to market themselves. Some people would rather just do their work and focus on skills. People who opt out of self-promotion have always paid a price, but at least in the past it wasn’t so large, since the perks of stardom were smaller and the value of institutional affiliation was more meaningful. Companies also had more control over their staff and were less tolerant of brazen self-promotion. By building their brand externally, stars can raise the profile of their workplace, but they also can cheapen the brand and entangle it in divisive political or social issues. Stars who get really big might cash in on their institution’s prestige and go out on their own. In theory, superstars become so because they’re more productive and talented, rather than just because they’re good at social media. But there’s evidence that superstars at work can mean less pay for others, which suggests any gains they bring [don’t really justify the downside].
The royal family may be damaged by the self-promotion of Prince Harry and his wife Meghan, but the monarchy will probably survive. That’s not necessarily guaranteed for every company. When people were dedicated to building institutions, they worked in exchange for stability and prestige. Now stars that co-opt the institution can capture more of the gains for their own personal brand names. How long can this last? Soon everyone will be forced to look out for themselves and institutions just won’t have the same value anymore.
Or, this phase will pass. Note that superstars are becoming less common in the one industry where they make the most sense: movies. Institutions such as Walt Disney’s Marvel are becoming more powerful than the individual. Eventually stars become too expensive and aren’t worth hiring or cultivating. That could be the future for other industries, too.
Allison Schrager is a senior fellow at Manhattan Institute, co-founder of LifeCycle Finance Partners and a Bloomberg Opinion columnist
