The Never-Ending Stereotypes

When students stream back to campus after intersession, Hillel might be inundated with unlikely new visitors. These Jews and non-Jews will not be searching for left over Hanukah presents or exceptionally tasty kosher food, however. Instead, they might be seeking the hippest cultural trends.

That is not a joke. Jews are “hip,” at least in the minds of producers at VH1, which has cycled a new show, “So Jewtastic,” in its repetitive holiday schedule. This hour-long ramble features giddy Jewish B-list celebrities expressing relief and excitement about how their brethren—Adam Brody (a.k.a. Seth Cohen) on “The O.C.,” John Stewart on “The Daily Show,” and Howard Stern on his morning radio show—have reached new heights of popularity and readjusted America’s assessment of traditionally maligned Jewish stereotypes.

From bumpy noses and curly hair to overwhelming pessimism and obsessive concern for education, traits stereotypically connected with Jews are “in.” Soon, plastic surgeons in New York and Los Angeles might offer reverse rhinoplasty for WASP’s who feel excluded from the trend.

The ridiculousness of the jokeumentary certainly elicited laughs, but there is a more serious undertone not questioned in the show: is this popularity progress for the oft-persecuted religion?

Because this budding cultural phenomenon is simply based on stereotypes, I would say no. A critic might cite this answer as evidence of my own inability to overcome Jewish pessimism, but I do have a separate explanation.

Brody, Stewart, and Stern are all Jewish, but pop culture does not celebrate them because they dance the Hora or recite Hebrew; pop culture right now appreciates traits in these stars that have formerly been associated with Jews but are now much more prevalent in broader society. Americans—or at least The O.C./Comedy Central/VH1-watching Americans—are attracted to resemblances of themselves in current Jewish stars, and not some conscious love for Moses’ people.

According to two CNN/Gallup polls, 24 percent of Americans believed in April 2000 that a loved one could be killed on American soil in a terrorist attack; in July 2005, that number had grown to 47 percent. That’s pessimism, and, probably, the foremost characteristic associated with Jews—other than “the nose”—is their pessimism.

Furthermore, as reported recently by USA Today, 80 percent of 10th graders expected to attend college in 2003, a 21 percent increase from 1990. Again, this change in American culture correlates with a common perception that American Jews are more likely to receive a college degree than a non-Jew.

But of course no stereotype necessarily applies. Not every Jew is a pessimist, and only 75 percent of American Jews receive a college diploma according to the 2004 National Jewish Population Survey. Popular culture has found a representation of its changing self in trite Jewish stereotypes, and it has again pigeonholed Jews into those characteristics.

VH1’s show should have been titled “We Love Sarcastic Pessimists,” or “We Love Bald Neurotics,” but not “So Jewtastic.” The ratings would have been terrible, but VH1 would not have continued the dangerous game of associating broad stereotypes with religions. If many of those pessimists or self-loathing comics happened to be Jewish, that is fine, but VH1—and America—should not view a person’s following of Judaism as antecedent to any specific life or profession, whether that is an academic, a Hollywood executive, or a bald neurotic.

Religion might strongly influence many people’s personalities and actions, but such impact cannot be applied universally. As the world saw during World War II, stereotypes about appearances and professions were used—often incorrectly—by Nazis to select people for its Jewish cleansing. Today, much of the Western world is quick to label any Muslim as a terrorist. But there is a separation between culture and religion—even if it is often blurred—that must be recognized if true religious tolerance is ever to be achieved.

Andrew D. Fine ’09, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Stoughton Hall.