"People seem to enjoy things more when they know a lot of other people have been left out of the pleasure"
About this Quote
Baker’s line is a neat little pinprick to the balloon of American self-flattery. He’s not describing pleasure as delight so much as pleasure as status: an emotion that sharpens when it comes with a velvet rope. The joke, and the bite, is in “seem.” He doesn’t accuse outright; he observes with the journalist’s squint, letting the reader recognize themselves in the indictment. It’s social critique disguised as a shrug.
The intent is to expose the ugly chemistry between enjoyment and exclusion. Baker points at a dynamic we like to dress up as “taste,” “standards,” or “earned access,” when it’s often the primal satisfaction of being inside while others press their faces to the glass. The subtext is that scarcity isn’t just an economic condition; it’s an emotional technology. A crowded restaurant becomes less appealing the moment it feels too available. A neighborhood is “up-and-coming” until it’s up-and-come. Even moral goods get warped: charity can become performative precisely because it creates a hierarchy between the giver and the left out.
As a journalist-humorist (and longtime New York Times columnist), Baker worked in a tradition that uses comedy to make certain polite lies impossible to keep telling. The line lands because it treats cruelty as banal rather than monstrous. No villains, no melodrama; just the everyday pleasure of distinction. In a mass culture built on tickets, waitlists, VIP tiers, “limited editions,” and algorithmic cool-kid tables, Baker’s observation reads less like a quip than like a user manual for modern desire.
The intent is to expose the ugly chemistry between enjoyment and exclusion. Baker points at a dynamic we like to dress up as “taste,” “standards,” or “earned access,” when it’s often the primal satisfaction of being inside while others press their faces to the glass. The subtext is that scarcity isn’t just an economic condition; it’s an emotional technology. A crowded restaurant becomes less appealing the moment it feels too available. A neighborhood is “up-and-coming” until it’s up-and-come. Even moral goods get warped: charity can become performative precisely because it creates a hierarchy between the giver and the left out.
As a journalist-humorist (and longtime New York Times columnist), Baker worked in a tradition that uses comedy to make certain polite lies impossible to keep telling. The line lands because it treats cruelty as banal rather than monstrous. No villains, no melodrama; just the everyday pleasure of distinction. In a mass culture built on tickets, waitlists, VIP tiers, “limited editions,” and algorithmic cool-kid tables, Baker’s observation reads less like a quip than like a user manual for modern desire.
Quote Details
| Topic | Wisdom |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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