Man-Eater

The American Dream was born: The heroic immigrant leaves the old country for the unlimited opportunities of the new. It was largely a white, male, Christian story, where the only barriers were character and discipline. Like all stories handed down from generation to generation, the complicated parts were erased. The myth does not mention that racial minorities, women and Jews were excluded from competing fairly in the marketplace, or that those who succeeded beat enormous odds against them.

De Botton's definition of a high-status individual circa 2004 is someone who accumulates power, money or fame through his or her own talents and efforts. Race, gender and age are perceived as less important than personal effort, despite ongoing debate over whether the playing field is truly level. One thing is clear: The harder it is to enter the status game, the higher the stakes. The rewards for winners are great. But if you buy into this American Dream, you buy into a world of worthy Haves and unfit Have Nots.

He quotes Karl Marx: "The ruling ideas of every age are always the ideas of the ruling class."

Capital Anxiety

A book party for de Botton was held last month at the Georgetown mansion of Jacqueline and Marc Leland -- his mother and stepfather. The house, filled with contemporary art, is the stuff of secret, lustful dreams. The crowd, assembled around the back patio and pool, included Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, the ambassadors of the United Kingdom and Israel, and dozens of other well-heeled and well-connected Washingtonians.

"A status-anxiety-free zone," joked Leland, a Harvard and Oxford alumnus who heads his own investment firm.

"I've never known anxiety, so I wouldn't know," said UPI Editor At Large Arnaud de Borchgrave with a sly smile.

The truth is the opposite, not that anyone would admit it. Residents of the Greater Washington region are some of the richest and best educated in the country. This place is full of nail-biting overachievers, teeming with class presidents, valedictorians, homecoming queens, editors in chief, "Most Likely To" bright hotshots destined for Big Things.

"When I first came here, I thought, 'Members of Congress. What could be better than that?' " says Norm Ornstein, resident scholar at the American Enterprise Institute. "Then you realize after a while, 'They're one of 435. They may never get their name in The Washington Post. Probably never going to be on "Meet the Press." They may never even be on MSNBC, for God's sake.' "

The cruel truth is that status is relative. It's true in almost every arena here. A hometown hero arrives in Washington feeling like a million bucks, and is suddenly swimming in a bigger pool with faster sharks.

"You think you've made it," said Ornstein. "Suddenly you realize you're operating in a larger universe of ambition, and you're not quite as good as you thought. It can lead to an inferiority complex."

Nevertheless, Washington embraces meritocracy with a patriotic fervor that belies the web of connections, luck, timing and money that underpins all the brains and ambition. The official success story always includes a passion for politics, a desire to "give back," long hours and a disdain for flashy displays of wealth -- but not wealth itself.

"In some ways, Washington is kind of a geeky town," says de Botton. "The restaurants aren't that good, people don't pay that much attention to what they're wearing. It has some of the feeling of a college town."

What gets noticed is the ability to make something happen on the big field. Status is afforded by title, proximity and access to the White House and Capitol Hill. What makes Washingtonians even more anxious are the extreme highs and lows: The elevations can be swift and unexpected (Edwards, Dan Quayle), the demotions swifter and brutal (Paul O'Neill, Lawrence Lindsey). Political capital is very easy to lose; hitch your wagon to the right guy and you're a genius; pick the wrong guy and you're a loser, too.

Individual talent and energy are virtues, and 16-hour days are the sacrifices of workaholic saints. Nobody admits to being "nonessential" on federal leave days. If you're fired or laid off, you're nobody in many circles, at least behind your back.