the strivercel effect

In San Francisco, where the flex is now reflex, young tech employees pose for a photo. Maybe they're wearing formal wear. Ill-fitting tuxedos and pashminas frame faces that look too young and too hydrated to have ever smoked a cigarette. Or maybe they're trying to be trendy. They show off corporate merch inspired by streetwear from five or six years ago, not realizing how dated the references are. For the basic, Silicon Valley sweater sets (branded hoodie over branded tee). For the more adventurous, maybe the sold-out OpenAI socks or the limited-edition Claude thinking cap. They hope people will think they work for a trillion-dollar company, even if they don't.

The photo, like everything they do, is part of a grander status-seeking strategy.

It will inevitably have an effusive caption. "Look how hot and cool and smart everyone is!" "We are awesome!" They are attempting to mog, but trying to do it nicely. The tone combines the braggadocio of Andrew Tate with the earnest inclusivity of an HR lady. It's stilted. Can you be elitist and egalitarian? But then again, it is a corporate photo-op.

At least they don't call each other "rock stars."

These sorts of images really should stay in the group chat, and if there is some pressing reason to share, keep them on LinkedIn, or as a last resort, if you're truly desperate for the attention, a walled garden like Instagram or Snapchat. But since this photo was taken in San Francisco, no caution will be exercised. It will be posted on the cruelest of all social media platforms, X.

Tech Twitter still exists, even if the name is now anachronistic. The poster hopes to generate a respectable number of impressions within his local scene. Ironically, the technologically adept locals who hang out on that part of the platform are often blind to the animal spirits that run wild online. They know how X works, but they don't know people. When the post goes viral and users from outside Silicon Valley's sandbox begin piling on, the replies give them a brutal introduction to the average internet user.

The average internet user isn't a friendly nerd.

Girls who insist they are hot are derided as ugly. Parties that insist they are cool are mocked as lame. Ivy League graduates are reminded that many of their fellow alumni are seemingly illiterate. Reddit posters brag about their high TC (total compensation), only to have their low SMV (sexual market value) shoved in their faces. Eyes roll every time a new day-in-the-life video is posted to TikTok, detailing the snacks eaten, meetings attended, and naps taken at yet another open-plan corporate office. Do these professionals even do any work at their fake email jobs? The internet wonders.

These are the strivercels. And the rage they elicit and the vicious comments they receive whenever one of their posts goes viral is the Strivercel Effect.