Bobos In Paradise: The New Upper Class and How They Got There

Brooks assumes that the Bobos at some point in their lives have shared counter cultural, radical, and creative ideas associated with bohemians. Is this the case, or are they merely tourists of the lifestyle? I am reminded of John Lennon's observation about "Day Trippers", the weekend bohemians of the 60s. B. would have us think that the bourgeois synthesized Bohemia into the Bobo, but the book does not provide the evidence for some such Hegelian process. Instead, he runs down a seemingly inexhaustible (and exhausting) list of their lifestyle choices, concentrating especially on their consumer habits, sometimes to humorous effect. Eventually, though, the act becomes tiresome, and he rather lamely attempts some serious analysis.

This is show more where the book falls flat, and the thud is deafening. If the Bobo had truly incorporated bohemian values into the upper class sensibility, we would not see them purchasing SUVs, for instance. These vehicles get terrible gas mileage, which is incompatible with the Bobos' supposed deep caring for the environment. Also, these expensive vehicles pose a danger to those less fortunate motorists who can only afford a small car. Such contradictions can be found elsewhere in the opening chapters (electricity-gobbling appliances, for instance); they should be kept in mind when the reader gets to the weak arguments of Bobo morality and spirituality in the later chapters.

B. claims that the Bobos are concerned with preservation of America's older neighborhoods, to save older structures and our heritage, yet the facts speak to an utter lack of concern of the Bobos when it comes to their own "needs." Witness the gentrification of the Mission District in San Francisco, which has forced the traditional Hispanic population out because of sky-high rents. There is a noticeable lack of mention of the lower classes in the book, in fact. The Bobo is depicted unintentionally as a classic elitist, with a narcissistic streak that would make the 70s "Me Decade" seem tame by comparison. Thus, the horrific reaction some readers might have when they discover that B. not only thinks the Bobos are a positive force of nature, but that he counts himself as one.

If B. were approaching the subject critically, he would undoubtedly have tackled the psychology of the Bobo, and why the fascination with bohemian culture. He never tackles this very key point; the possible issues of guilt and self-esteem, for instance. Or how about the Info Age obsession with research? Is this lifestyle optimized based on careful study of all the facts? Is the incorporation of the bohemian a sign of neurosis instead? Don't the descriptions of consumption sound like classic obsessive-compulsive disorder? How does the Bobo grapple with Bobo ethical questions, such as the dilemma posed by optimizing his lifestyle choice by buying the "best" coffee from a plantation that exploits its workers, against the "lesser" coffee that would be more politically correct? The more you ponder these contradictions, the more you are apt to recognize the absurdity of buying B.'s arguments.

B. later talks of the Bobo spiritual life, wherein they pick and choose freely from an ever-changing menu of religious beliefs. Again, the consumer approach to salvation. Yet the earlier chapters allow one to reach a different conclusion: that the real spiritual instinct has been supplanted by entertainment itself, in the form of food, gadgets, and popular culture that are considered superior and "hip". It is this obsessive approach to lifestyle that fills the void left by the decline of true religious commitment. Religion then becomes yet another item for research and eventual consumption.

As this is a conservative's project to convince us of the likability of the Bobo over previous elite classes, he distracts the reader from his true purpose: to celebrate the death of true bohemianism, by co-opting it and robbing it of its alternative world view, which stood in opposition to that of the global exploits of the bourgeois in the realms of commerce and politics. This is the core piece of bohemianism that the Bobo rejects, which makes the so-called synthesis impossible. A much, much better analysis of the Elites and their effect on the erosion of democracy worldwide is presented in Christopher Lasch's "The Revolt of the Elites," which is the work of a true intellectual, not the faux sort exemplified by David Brooks. show less

First published in 2000, this seems to accurately assess the hipster, educated success and why/how they love distressed furniture (Restoration Hardware), drive quality-focused conscientious businesses (Ben & Jerry's) and how they give rise to wonky pundits and policy writers. I was hoping for some insight into how this environment gave rise to the hyper-libertarian techno-fascists I have witnessed.

Or what happens when the soft relativist college students described in Allan Bloom's The Closing of the American Mind graduate and start making real money. Many reviews at the time chastised Brooks for letting the Bobos off the hook. In the last chapter, the worst of the book, he does pull back and blathers that the Bobos have potential to be "the class that led America into another golden age. (This was not borne out by subsequent events.) However, I don't think Brooks understood what he did here. He tries to pull off an "aw shucks, I was just joshing" attitude; however, in the previous chapters, just by describing Bobo culture, he stabbed these people in the heart and twisted the knife. For instance, he has a vignette of Death coming show more to a Montana second home that just drips with gleeful contempt for the shallow soul described. (By the way, even though Brooks accurately described the Bobos, the word did not catch on here, but it did in France. Also, in the interest of full disclosure, Brooks has summed up some of my attitudes and accoutrements.) show less

What kind of person buys new furniture put through a distressing procedure to make it look old? Many of us, according to author David Brooks in his book, Bobos in Paradise. With keen insight and occasional wit, he dissects the urban educated elite of today, a weird amalgam of the bourgeois and Bohemian, or “Bobo” for short. Brooks sprinkles his book with a good dollop of research, which fortifies his thesis but feels needlessly academic at times. While there is many humorous rest stop observations along the way, Brooks takes his time getting to his punch lines; for example, the telltale tendency for Bobos to feel everything in their life must be approached as if it’s an aptitude test, including comfortless vacations that serve as show more grueling endurance tests rather than relaxing and enjoyable getaways. If you want to know who the Bobos are around us, read this book. Be warned however, you find you’re holding a mirror. show less

27 June 2001
Bobos in Paradise
David Brooks
The author is a journalist for the Economist, and he believes he has found a new elite, the bohemian bourgeois. Some of his stories are very funny, and very revealing about the class of individuals who were admitted to major universities on the basis of merit, and have since defined the upper class of the meritocracy. They are partly grounded in the bohemian culture of Greenwich village espresso bars and so on and partly are thoroughly interested in middle class comforts and conveniences. Mortal sin is failure to recycle, but all sorts of cultural relativism is expected. The argument is based on some well-observed journal pieces, but is not as profound as the author would believe. He thinks he show more has coined the term of the 90's, akin to the Yuppies of the 80's, and is concerned to lay copyright claim to it. Amusing but very lightweight. show less

In a nutshell, Brooks does two things here. He presents a well-considered thesis about how, since the 1980s, the various positions – political, religious, economic, polemical – and general societal outlook of the educated classes have shifted to the middle. As a special supplement, he delves into hilarious anecdotes about how this manifests itself as regards the BOBO’s professional, material, and leisure choices. His description of a visit to REI left me rolling in my subway seat! (or I would have been had I been able to procure a seat). I mean they supposedly sell “outdoor” crap yet not a baseball anywhere!

Anyway, one might charge that Brooks grossly stereotypes his group. He frequently acknowledges the obvious exceptions show more within this demographic and certainly it’s not as absurd as some of the generalizations about “Millennials” that get espoused in corporate seminars, NPR interviews, and by jack-ass Today Show “experts” (read, busy-body housefraus). Perhaps not balanced, this is definitely funny and mostly palatable.

An obvious, contemporary parallel would be the “white people” as defined by Christian Lander. In fact it seems that half of his blog/book is a less well-written rip off of this BOBO exposé. The remainder simply plugging in updates such as white folk’s preoccupation with (or disdain towards) Mad Men, Ed Hardy, and girls with bangs. Where, I silently ask myself, do hipsters (of whom my wife commented, “They seem nice enough but they all dress like shit.” after a recent visit to Williamsburg, Brooklyn) fit into the Brooks-Lander Whitey matrix? show less

The most notable thing about this book is that it clearly is built from a series of articles strung together into a central hypothesis. There isn't terrific flow between the chapters -- the voice, style, and the goal of each chapter is highly variable and it really undermines the idea that the book is supposed to be an expose of a central social thesis.

That being said, the book is enjoyable -- there are many funny parts (although non quite as funny as Brooks seem to think) and many insightful parts. I particularly enjoyed the introduction about education, and the sections on vacations and spirituality. In contrast, the parts on business and academia were dull, repetitive and highly exaggerated.