"It is commonly supposed that the art of pleasing is a wonderful aid in the pursuit of fortune; but the art of being bored is infinitely more successful"
About this Quote
Chamfort is weaponizing boredom the way other moralists weaponize virtue: as a social tactic. On the surface, he’s puncturing the sunny career advice that charm opens doors. Underneath, he’s pointing to a darker mechanism of power in salons, courts, and any status economy where attention is currency. Pleasing requires labor - wit, empathy, performance. Being bored, by contrast, is a display of surplus. It signals you’re so secure in your position that you can afford indifference. People chase what withholds.
The line works because it flips a polite ideal into an accusation. If “the art of pleasing” is the democratic fantasy - anyone can hustle their way upward by being delightful - “the art of being bored” is the aristocratic reality: advancement often goes to those who can make others feel slightly desperate. Boredom here isn’t mere ennui; it’s curated disengagement, a pose that forces the room to work harder, talk faster, sparkle brighter. In a hierarchy, the bored person becomes the silent judge and everyone else auditions.
Chamfort wrote with the sharp lungs of an ancien-regime insider who could taste the rot. Living through the late French monarchy and into the Revolution, he saw reputations and livelihoods hinge on mood, proximity, and the whims of the powerful. His cynicism is social X-ray vision: if fortune is a game, the winning move is not charm but calibrated contempt - the ability to imply, without saying it, that you have better options than the people in front of you. The joke stings because it’s still legible in modern offices, parties, and platforms where “too cool to care” reads as influence.
The line works because it flips a polite ideal into an accusation. If “the art of pleasing” is the democratic fantasy - anyone can hustle their way upward by being delightful - “the art of being bored” is the aristocratic reality: advancement often goes to those who can make others feel slightly desperate. Boredom here isn’t mere ennui; it’s curated disengagement, a pose that forces the room to work harder, talk faster, sparkle brighter. In a hierarchy, the bored person becomes the silent judge and everyone else auditions.
Chamfort wrote with the sharp lungs of an ancien-regime insider who could taste the rot. Living through the late French monarchy and into the Revolution, he saw reputations and livelihoods hinge on mood, proximity, and the whims of the powerful. His cynicism is social X-ray vision: if fortune is a game, the winning move is not charm but calibrated contempt - the ability to imply, without saying it, that you have better options than the people in front of you. The joke stings because it’s still legible in modern offices, parties, and platforms where “too cool to care” reads as influence.
Quote Details
| Topic | Wisdom |
|---|
More Quotes by Nicolas
Add to List





