Anxious People(28)

The psychologist nodded patiently and immediately regretted the question she asked next: “Can you give me an example of when people like me have been upset by you without your meaning it?”

Zara shrugged, then told the story of how she had been called “prejudiced” when she interviewed a young man for a job at the bank, just because she had looked at him when he entered the room and exclaimed: “Oh! I would have expected you to apply for a job in the IT department instead, your sort tend to be good with computers!”

Zara spent a long time explaining to the psychologist that it was actually a compliment. Does giving someone a compliment mean you’re prejudiced these days, too?

The psychologist tried to find a way to talk about it without actually talking about it, so she said: “You seem to get caught up in a lot of disagreements, Zara. One technique I’d recommend is to ask yourself three questions before you flare up. One: Are the actions of the person in question intended to harm you personally? Two: Do you possess all the information about the situation? Three: Do you have anything to gain from a conflict?”

Zara tilted her head so far that her neck creaked. She understood all the words, but the way they were put together made as much sense as if they’d been pulled at random from a hat.

“Why would I need help to stop getting into conflicts? Conflicts are good. Only weak people believe in harmony, and as a reward they get to float through life with a feeling of moral superiority while the rest of us get on with other things.”

“Like what?” the psychologist wondered.

“Winning.”

“And that’s important?”

“You can’t achieve anything if you don’t win, sweetie. No one ends up at the head of a boardroom table by accident.”

The psychologist tried to find her way back to her original question, whatever it had been.

“And… winners earn a lot of money, which is also important, I assume? What do you do with yours?”

“I buy distance from other people.”

The psychologist had never heard that response before.

“How do you mean?”

“Expensive restaurants have bigger gaps between the tables. First class on airplanes has no middle seats. Exclusive hotels have separate entrances for guests staying in suites. The most expensive thing you can buy in the most densely populated places on the planet is distance.”

The psychologist leaned back in her chair. It wasn’t hard to find textbook examples of Zara’s personality: she avoided eye contact, didn’t want to shake hands, was—to put it mildly—empathetically challenged, and had perhaps as a result chosen to work with numbers. And she couldn’t help compulsively straightening the photograph on the bookcase every time the psychologist moved it out of position on purpose before each session. It was hard to ask someone like Zara about that sort of thing directly, so the psychologist asked instead: “Why do you like your job?”

“Because I’m an analyst. Most people who do the same job as me are economists,” Zara replied immediately.

“What’s the difference?”

“Economists only approach problems head-on. That’s why economists never predict stock market crashes.”

“And you’re saying that analysts do?”

“Analysts expect crashes. Economists only earn money when things go well for the bank’s customers, whereas analysts earn money all the time.”

“Does that make you feel guilty?” the psychologist asked, mostly to see if Zara thought that word was a feeling or something to do with gold plating.

“Is it the croupier’s fault if you lose your money at the casino?” Zara asked.

“I’m not sure that’s a fair comparison.”

“Why not?”

“Because you use words like ‘stock market crash,’ but it’s never the stock market or the banks that crash. Only people do that.”

“There’s a very logical explanation for why you think that.”

“Really?”

“It’s because you think the world owes you something. It doesn’t.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. I asked why you like your job. All you’ve done is tell me why you’re good at it.”

“Only weak people like their jobs.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“That’s because you like your job.”

“You say that as if there’s something wrong with that.”

“Are you upset now? People like you really do seem to get upset an awful lot, and do you know why?”

“No.”

“Because you’re wrong. If you stopped being wrong the whole time you wouldn’t be so upset.”

The psychologist looked at the clock on her desk. She still believed that Zara’s biggest problem was her loneliness, but perhaps there’s a difference between loneliness and friendlessness. But instead of saying that, the psychologist murmured in a tone of resignation: “Do you know what… I think this might be a good place for us to stop.”

Unconcerned, Zara nodded and stood up. She tucked the chair back under the table very precisely. She was half facing away when she said, “Do you think there are bad people?” It sounded as if she hadn’t really meant to let the words out.