members of the I.A.N.D
Nasim Taleb called them the "Davos-attending members of the I.A.N.D (International Association of Name Droppers)."
That might be my favorite line from his book Antifragile. Why? It succinctly captures an unsavory mechanism of social ascent with comic brutality.
A friend invited me to stay with him and some friends at a large mansion in Ibiza one summer. That’s a hard invitation to refuse, so I went for it. During introductions, when we shared a bit about ourselves and what we were up to in life, I’ll never forget one woman’s pitch:
“Oh, I have a startup that’s focused on solving the world’s water crisis. We have this amazing team from MIT, and we’ve been talking with Richard Branson about brand deals and funding. We’re working with the United Nations to bring awareness through their UNESCO program. We’re just waiting on a couple of big investments to land.
What about you? What do you do?”
“Uh. I play sitar?”
I used to find that sort of name-dropping and peacock posturing repulsive. My reactions have since evolved. I can’t say I like it, but I get it. It’s a signaling technique.
While I may find the communication style of the I.A.N.D unsavory, there’s no denying that it’s rewarded. It’s a way of broadcasting their worth to others. People of similar dispositions can then link up to see what opportunities they can conjure together. It’s a socio-economic marketplace thing: go to parties, broadcast your importance, and get paired up with others needing your skills or connections.
Don’t hate the players; hate the game.
You can either choose to play by their rules, sit on the bench, or try out your own rules.
The name-dropping thing isn’t my style. It rubs against my values.
But signaling is important—so I share when I intuitively feel it’s the right moment to reveal who I am, my story, and what I can offer others.
Feel free to hate the game. But know what your options are. And remember, you can always make up your own rules.