Don't be a victim to my high-status counter-signalling

Introducing myself for the new readers

Welcome new readers.

My name is Stella Tsantekidou (Cha-de-ki-thou, but zero fucks will be given if you can’t pronounce this right). I was born and raised in Thessaloniki, a coastal city in Greece, in 1994. I moved to London in 2012 to study law and stayed to work in politics. I have been living here ever since, apart from a short stint in the US in 2016 when I was an organiser on the first Bernie campaign in Iowa, Nevada, Ohio and New York. I returned to London to work as a speechwriter for Labour MPs in Parliament. These days, I lobby for goody-two-shoes causes- I am head of policy for a criminal justice charity. When I am not lurking around Westminster, at best trying to change the law, at worst sipping warm diet coke in stuffy rooms, I do two things I am passionate about improving: I write (this newsletter, pitching to publications, my creative writing projects: stand-up comedy and a TV series pilot), and I speak (political commentating on TV and radio, hosting my work podcast and public speaking gigs ).

As I said here, on my mood board are Paglia and Zizek. Not because of what they say but because of how they say it. My message is moderate, but my delivery is bold. I can’t promise I will give you the best analysis or the most up-to-date information (though, believe me, I will try). I do promise I will never bore you. There are enough people with more knowledge than me who speak and sound like they say absolutely nothing. No wonder people don’t watch the news or read the papers anymore.

People complain that the media are oversaturated with pundits, writers, and hot-take automatons and that attention is limited, so why try? I disagree. I think most readers, viewers, voters, whatever your target audience is, are starving for people who speak without flinching.

Nothing in this newsletter is original, but my voice is authentic. I write about politics and culture and like every self-respecting, highly therapised millennial woman, I always, always, always, write about myself. Presumably, that’s why you are here.

Only losers feel the need to justify everything they say, so don’t expect me to back off when you push me. The only way to avoid criticism is to stay still, and like all immigrants, I have itchy feet.

I warn you, my bold communication means I use poetic license with my feelings when writing personal essays. I don’t like, I love. I don’t dislike, I hate. I don’t want, I burn with desire and cannot rest until I get. Don’t fall into my trap of extremes when I describe my emotional world in lurid detail. Most importantly, don’t fall for my counter-signalling. Humans have been fishing for compliments on the internet since its inception.

What’s counter-signalling? Rob Henderson explains it well here. Humans seek to imitate the behaviours of people who are higher on the status totem pole than us. People of lower status will imitate people of moderate status, and people of moderate status will imitate people of high status. High-status people can afford to engage in counter signalling— doing things that are associated with low status because it further proves their secure high status. For example, very rich celebrities wearing hobo fashion or tech CEOs showing up to important meetings in jeans and t-shirts while the council estate kid works double shifts for a Gucci belt and the intern languishes in a three-piece suit. When working in Parliament, I wore a jacket daily, but accomplished policy wonks would come to meetings in relaxed crews and jeans. This was a power move.

In part, this is what I do when I complain on/to the internet about being single. Anybody with working eyesight and firing brain cells can tell I am at the top of the dating food chain. I like to write like a bottom feeder because I have been one and empathise with losers, outcasts and strivers more than effortless, pampered winners of life, but one look at me and you know I am no longer an unfuckable hate nerd. I have blossomed into a predator.

Maybe that’s why I don’t have a boyfriend ;-)

No, not because men are intimidated by my looks and graces but because they are repelled by my narcissism. Can’t fault the lads on that.

I am also an intuitive maximiser. I maximise for pleasure, utility, comfort and artistic freedom. I also maximise for status - for which I have my own standards, which will be different to yours. Early on in my life, I realised that people trying to hide their flaws and weaknesses looked even more flawed and weak in the process. In contrast, those who readily, vulnerably or brazenly admitted to them were not only forgiven but allowed space and grace to continue being flawed, unique little snowflakes. You often see this in politics. A politician who claims a moral high ground and tries to do things by the book will see her public contributions and private life scrutinised with a fine toothcomb. On the other hand, a politician who lets you know from the beginning that he doesn’t take anything seriously and does not think the rules apply to him will get exactly that treatment: the rules won’t apply. I favour the Trump approach over the Obama approach for myself because I am not smart and talented enough to be Obama but also because I don’t have the patience or self-restraint to be hostage to my critics. So Zizek and Paglia, squiz along and make space for the orange man.

This is why I am nonchalant about writing about female neediness online despite how overexposed I may come across. I can’t be bothered to filter my thoughts and feelings, and besides, men still want to date me even if they read this newsletter because I am easy on the eye, interesting to be around and going places.

I also express these thoughts for those lower on the totem pole who wouldn’t dare admit to the dark insecurities and anxieties that I admit to here. I am thinking especially women less sexually confident than me who pretend they are happy with the state of affairs in the dating market because admitting to their inability to cover their own emotional needs would make them look like failures.

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Thank you for engaging with my posts over the last couple of weeks. I cannot stress how meaningful it is for me to read thoughtful comments by strangers on the internet. I did not realise I deserved clearly intelligent people taking time out of their day to engage with my work as insightfully as some of you have, but it turns out I do.

I post here 1-2 times a week, but I post my daily musings on my Instagram stories. You can find my profile here. It is a good supplement to this newsletter.

I used to write a weekly diary, which I have since retired, but I wanted to know if my new readers would be keen to see it resurrected. It previously got me in trouble, but I am willing to take the risk. You can read two of my most scandalous posts here and here.

Let me know in the comments if you want the diary back.

I know you are all wondering what I look like, so here I am. A Westminster 10, a Greek Island 7, an LA 6 and my father’s ∞.