Man-Eater

So anxiety seeps out in seemingly petty ways: The nuanced behind-the-scenes lobbying for an ambassadorship. Getting an invitation to the ultimate summer boys camp, Bohemian Grove. Minor officials insisting on government cars and drivers. Leaking your name to the media for a prestigious shortlist of names (whether or not you were ever an actual candidate for the job). Being seen at the right table at the right restaurant.

"It's always the newcomers, the wannabes who are a little more flashy, a little more nervous," says Tommy Jacomo, general manager of the Palm. They slap him on the back, give him a hug, more to impress their guests than Jacomo. They'll walk through the restaurant talking loudly on their cell phone ("which drives me crazy") and order expensive wines.

Washington's most common anxiety game: Does your name appear in the index of a "big" book? Thousands of Washingtonians bought Bill Clinton's "My Life" only because they landed in the 38-page index.

The frontline troops of Washington's anxiety are the beleaguered bookers on the Sunday news shows who fend off the constant barrage of offers to place a boss, a friend, an expert on the next show. Every year, TelevisionWeek magazine surveys producers, bookers and "Washington insiders" for its annual survey of newsmakers. Last year, Rep. Harold Ford Jr. (D-Tenn.) was dubbed "Most Energetic Self-Promoter," willing to opine on just about any issue. This year, Sen. Chuck Hagel (R-Neb.) was named "Most Overexposed," followed closely by DNC Chairman Terry McAuliffe and pundits Robert Novak, Laura Ingraham, Ann Coulter and James Carville.

One dazzling speech can change your fortune overnight. After his prime time address at the Democratic convention, the largely unknown Illinois state Sen. Barack Obama was suddenly being spoken of as the first black president.

Rules of the Game

Washington exports its anxiety to the rest of the country with a hefty dose of hope. The business of politics, especially in an election year, is to convince voters that one candidate will better help you earn what you don't have but deserve.

"I think we live in an insecure society where even wealthy people feel anxiety about falling into destitution," says Chuck Collins, co-founder of United for a Fair Economy, a nonpartisan organization in Boston founded 10 years ago to address economic inequities. "The message is, 'You're on your own.' This is right below the surface. When you begin to probe the underlying stress, there's a fear of falling."

The Democratic and Republican conventions offer two versions of America's meritocracy. John Kerry and John Edwards spoke of "Two Americas": one with a wealthy elite who rigged the system; the other with families who are one bad break from disaster. President Bush and Vice President Cheney say capitalism is essentially fair and wealth creates more wealth.

Both parties promise to keep the game honest -- no discrimination, decent schools, safe neighborhoods, no unfair advantages for the rich or poor. The rewards of meritocracy are dangled like candy to every class, race and gender.

"There are people who say that all you have to do is work hard enough and you can get ahead," says Rep. Linda Sanchez. "But you can spend your whole life working your tail off and, if you don't have opportunities, you're never going to get ahead."

Sanchez and her sister, Loretta, made history as the first sisters elected to Congress. Their story is classic American Dream: Mexican parents, big family, hard work, an emphasis on education. Linda Sanchez, a first-term Democrat from California, has a running argument with one of her brothers, a Republican who sees himself as a self-made man and can't understand why others don't do it. She said to him: "You started out with advantages you didn't realize were advantages: a two-parent family, parents who emphasized education, who were involved in our lives."

Young Latino girls see Sanchez as a role model; her success comes with a sense of obligation. "There's a pressure that comes from that, because no one's perfect," she says. "You don't want to make mistakes or disappoint people."

WJLA-TV anchor Maureen Bunyan grew up in a family that expected her to achieve, and she became one of the most respected local news anchors in Washington. She has been up, down and back up -- and views the whole subject of status and anxiety with an un-Washington-like equanimity.

"The thing about America is that if people find their talent and discipline, they can achieve tremendous things," she says. "What happens in minority communities and to young girls is that we are not taught how to find our talent." The result: They're attracted to careers that provide overnight success -- rock stars, television stars, athletes.