Chapter Text
“No arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”
-Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, 78
Everybody knew that Heather Duke liked to read: it was one of those little personal facts that was allowed to proliferate out, a simple piece of information that could contribute to her reputation without really sharing anything of value. While an interest in literature might seem somewhat uncharacteristic of the usual crowd that one might expect to see at the top of a school, Duke felt it was rather fitting: a sprinkling of erudition complemented her reputation for deep cutting barbs quite well.
What fewer people might expect was the depth of her interest in literary endeavors: most simply assumed that her interests were restrained to a small number of classics, her weathered copy of Moby Dick having long since become a staple of her public persona, but it reached far beyond that. Duke planned to have a future beyond the halls of Westerburg, beyond Sherwood, hell, beyond Ohio!
So she studied, running herself ragged in the nights to ensure that she had the time required to meet her less pleasant duties in Westerburg. She quietly enrolled in the Advanced Placement programs, intent on proving her academic capability without compromising her social status. She always applied herself in class, though never spoke up more than she had to: she didn’t want to risk the reputation of being too close with any of the teachers or too interested in the material, it would clash with the image so carefully curated by Chandler.
Her interests were something that took a backseat to her role as a member of the clique, yes, but she endeavored to ensure that said backseat was more than spacious enough for them to be fulfilled, even if it resulted in some unfortunate… difficulties in scheduling.
Her most recent fixation had come somewhat out of the blue, a chance purchase at a used-textbooks store during her college tours at Harvard having introduced her to one of the rare topics that bridged the gap between her two personas. It hadn’t been an expected correlation, the purchase having merely been a product of idle fancy, the book, Introduction to International Relations , having held the simple honor of having been placed at the top of the stack of soon-to-be-discarded books.
She had expected it to be nothing more than a somewhat dry piece of academic literature, perhaps containing some interesting snippets or quotes, though nothing that could be considered life changing. The relevance of the topic discussed in the thick textbook to her own life had come as something of a surprise to the young woman, the theories and ideas presented within the tome easily translating over to her own observations regarding the structure of Westerburg's social hierarchy. The more she read, the easier it was to draw connections between the complexities of international relations and the convoluted power dynamics of the high school.
While the textbook presented a number of theoretical systems that could govern the realm of international interactions, Heather found herself relating most to the theoretical ideas presented by the Realist philosophy: the simple brutality that it presented was the closest fit to her own experiences at Westerburg, easily complementing her own analysis of the system that she sat atop of. It did not distract itself with fanciful ideals of love or loyalty, Duke knew better than to indulge in those at this point, instead asserting that the drive for power and urge to dominate were fundamental and inescapable aspects of human nature; it provided a great deal of context for the behavior of Chandler, presenting a useful aid as she struggled to determine her own place and purpose beneath the Queen of Westerburg.
There was five key pillars to Realist thought, each of which could easily be translated into the context of Westerburg:
- The international system is inherently anarchic.
- States act in their rational self interest within the international system.
- States will always desire power to ensure self-preservation
- Relative gain ensures that the success of one state can only come at the detriment of another.
- No other states can be relied upon to guarantee the survival of a state.
From what Duke had read thus far, Realist relations theory fell in line with the Hobbesian philosophy surrounding the state of nature, a context in which there is no enforceable criteria of right and wrong and people simply took for themselves all that they could. Both presented a rather grim perspective on human nature.
Both were quite applicable in Westerburg.
The idea of the anarchic international system, a set of interacting states pursuing power for the purposes of survival, could easily be applied to cliques or even individuals within the school hierarchy. While the teachers were technically present as a limiting factor, they played very little role in the actual politics and social games that defined the meaning of power within Westerburg, hardly even acting to restrain the physical violence that was so often favored by the more brutish members of the school population.
Rational self-interest, sometimes known as rational egoism, was similarly easy to apply: while the students of Westerburg were rarely rational, the bulk of them acted in their own self interest, striving to improve their circumstances in their own small ways. They would cluster together in their own small cliques and groups, all of them quietly seeking to improve their own situation in their own small ways. This also explained the pursuit of power that was inherent in the international system: every action is governed primarily by the desire of states to survive. While the students of Westerburg didn’t have to concern themselves with the matters of war or economic interests, those fields could be substituted for social success and standing: the better standing one holds, the less likely they are to become a target for someone above them. The groupings of students allowed them to better achieve their goals of self defense while also meeting emotional and social needs.
The concept of relative gain had fascinated Heather when she’d first read about it: it was simultaneously terrifying and enlightening in its simplicity. The premise was quite simple:success, regardless of its type, exists within a zero-sum-game where the expansion of one’s own prospects is through the reduction of another’s. She felt a strangely close relationship with that dynamic, the cruel simplicity of it resonating with her own duties within the clique. By nature, her role as the clique’s enforcer meant that any success she achieved would inherently result in the diminishment of others.
The last was something that she had already accepted and internalized, its presence having been what initially convinced her to consider Realist thought on an interpersonal level. At one point, Heather had hoped to have friends, people that she could trust and rely upon without the conditional and transactional expectations that defined the jungle of high school relationships. Heather had been swiftly disabused of such eager and idealistic notions by Chandler, quickly coming to realize that her presence in the Heathers was primarily a matter of mutual security rather than a genuine friendship: she was there to fulfill a specific role in exchange for mutual security, nothing more than that.
She could not rely upon her partners in the clique for anything more than their basic obligations and even then, presenting any weakness would be the height of foolishness.
Yes, the idea of self-reliance had been exceptionally easy to internalize.
Who else could she really rely on?
McNamara wasn’t as much of a threat: while she was popular, she lacked the killer instinct she’d need to actually make a play. Duke wasn’t too concerned about her, though she didn’t trust her either. She’d seen exactly how vicious and conniving McNamara could be when she fell in line: while she didn’t quite think that her cutesy exterior was an act, it was clear that she still had the capacity to be dangerous.
Heather Chandler. She’d bound them together, given them common cause and the boon of popularity that Duke was so reliant on for safety. Duke didn’t hold any illusions about the relationship though: Chandler had pulled them together for the express purpose of securing her dominance over the school. Their service had earned them suitably comfortable positions at her side where they continued to fulfill her will. Chandler would browbeat her, sure, but Duke was content to simply weather the insults and abuses.
She had little interest in dabbling with those below her as anything more than a means of control: the country club kids would only be interested in using her as a leverage to socially climb and the jocks would only be interested in getting into her pants. They’d just see her as an opportunity to climb higher, pulling her down with them as they went.
It was safer to be alone.
It was better than the alternative, better to be the predator rather than the prey.
She had no intention of becoming the victim.