Last week the BRW Young Rich List appeared. It was hardly noticed, for this is the season of lists: Teams of the Year, Legends Lists, the London Tablet's 100 most influential Catholics list, not to mention short-lists for literary prizes. Lists raise lots of idle questions. What kind of people show up on lists? What do the lists reveal about the list makers? Why do people make and read lists? What lists would you like to have your name engraved on?
Judging by the profiles that go with lists, listed people are a boring lot. They tend to take seriously activities that don't contribute much to human happiness. Many of the wealthy young made nothing, except a pile of money through property and hedge funds. Many football legends don't seem to have moved far beyond the game. Influential Catholics turn out to be notable for being influential.
But, of course, you shouldn't judge by the profiles. These reflect the values of the list makers as much as those of the listed. Indeed many people avoid lists. In some countries the Rich List draws an avid audience of blackmailers, kidnappers and tax inspectors.
So why do journalists draw up lists? Surely, because people read lists. Lists enlist a coalition of the willing. There may be many dark reasons why readers are drawn to lists, despite their many previous experiences of being bored to tears. We look to see if, by some amazing chance, our own names might be there. We enjoy feeling superior to those whose names do appear. We seek confirmation that we could draw up a much better list.
Perhaps there is a deeper reason. Lists touch on our insecurities about what matters and about whether we matter. A list of influential Catholics might be reassuring Catholics who are down on themselves and self-doubting. The list of serious money makers might make others who believe that money has a value as well as a price feel that one day they too might get lucky and so find themselves entitled to self-esteem.
This might lead you to ask what kind of a list you would like to be on because