The Pretty Privilege Problem

As that one ex-boyfriend told you in an attempt to absolve himself of any wrongdoing after liking photos of Instagram models — we’re visual creatures. It’s no secret that someone’s physical attractiveness, in whatever socially constructed way that may manifest, can often set the precedent for other qualities we may associate with said person. They have a way of making us perceive the other aspects of this very good-looking someone, en rose, as it were. How does something as arbitrary as specific physical traits effectively have the power of rose-tinted glasses, and why do they have the power to create and reinforce such salient societal hierarchies? 

‘Pretty privilege’, a phrase which has been popularised on social media, has become the subject of widespread discourse, particularly in the case of how it influences the treatment of women. The fact that the discussion has tended to revolve around women is very telling. I think much of that is to do with the fact that there is a disparity in the significance of looks and ‘attractiveness’ in perceptions of women as compared to men — as steeped in ancient, outdated values as this may seem.

Unfortunately, my sweeping statements (which have come from calibrated observations) admittedly aren’t enough to defend this argument, so I am enlisting the support of a University of Oslo study, which has found evidence that ‘pretty privilege’ is indeed gendered. The study concluded that, more so in men than in women, ‘good looks’ were associated with general socio-economic benefits. Adolescents considered to have ‘good’ looks were more likely to succeed in matters of social mobility, such as higher levels of education and more successful careers, in a way which was less “pronounced”  in women. 

It is true that the ‘halo’ effect — good looks which translate to the perception of other favourable qualities, such as intelligence, talent, and trustworthiness — seems almost unavoidable in social interactions. The example of Ted Bundy and his ability to successfully convince those around him that he wasn’t a serial killer — albeit an extreme case — personifies this phenomenon. 

The issue of pretty privilege is more complicated when it comes to women. The ‘halo effect’ is gendered, and ‘good looks’ can often come as a hindrance in the perception of traits such as intelligence and competence. Marylin Monroe was famously classified as a ‘dumb blonde’ who couldn't act after only finding success in roles which consolidated her ‘sex symbol’ status. I think it’s safe to say that the societal labelling of arguably the most culturally salient icon as ‘dumb’ says a lot. The same was never said of her male counterparts, like James Dean, also well known for his looks. Furthermore, the singularity with which an ‘attractive’ woman may often be perceived by society is reductive and has long put ‘attractive’ women in a box in which their looks are essentially the extent of their value. 

Oftentimes, women who are perceived to be ‘attractive’, in addition to being especially objectified and reduced, are often the subject of envy and jealousy due to the perceived advantages associated with good looks. This sense of competition has, I think, been the result of a consistent societal obsession with a woman’s perceived attractiveness. This shows the widespread understanding among women that there is a palpable difference in how we’re treated depending on how we look — clothes, makeup, hair, for example. I have even been told by a friend of mine that she experienced an unprecedented increase in male attention upon bleaching her hair blonde. Whether this attention is perceived to be advantageous, or an annoyance, it is true that the loaded nature of ‘attractiveness’ and its extenuating advantages have created a competition among women surrounding a constructed ‘standard’ of the ‘attractive’ woman. 

This is so inherently damaging, both for those who — in the face of beauty standards which have always favoured very particular (and highly eurocentric) traits — feel these standards to be unattainable, as well for those who, in meeting these standards, suffer the consequences of being reduced to their looks and endlessly objectified and misconstrued. 

Issues surrounding the reduction and overt sexualisation of men too exist, and I would be remiss to not acknowledge this. To say that the detrimental impact of socially perpetuated beauty standards, especially with the effect of social media, doesn’t also apply to men is objectively not true. However, I have rarely encountered a man who has been socially penalised for his looks and ‘attractiveness’ in the same way that I have observed ‘good-looking’ women to be.

I say this — not to deny that a ‘pretty’ girl is more likely to get what she wants as compared to one who isn’t societally deemed as such — but to highlight the fact that her good-looking male counterpart is much less likely to be deemed someone who is just ‘asking for it’ in the same way that she is. He is not as likely to be dismissed in conversations the way she might, but instead, listened to with the utmost attention from those around him. 

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder — but in the face of our socially conditioned eyes, we ought to behold beauty less superficially and in isolation from other, more important, characterising traits.

Illustration by Liza Vasilyeva