{"id":449,"date":"2024-07-08T12:00:00","date_gmt":"2024-07-08T12:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/moneywithkatie.com\/the-capital-gaze\/"},"modified":"2025-09-03T18:36:01","modified_gmt":"2025-09-03T18:36:01","slug":"the-capital-gaze","status":"publish","type":"essays","link":"https:\/\/moneywithkatie.com\/essays\/the-capital-gaze\/","title":{"rendered":"The Capital Gaze"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

A few weeks ago, I received an email from a listener who was grappling with the hollow trappings of prestige. She described graduating from an MBA program and starting a fancy management consulting job. She felt like she had really made it<\/em>\u2014for a little while. <\/p>\n

\u201cEven though information about how management consulting sucks is widely available, the reality came as a big shock,\u201d she wrote. The work was \u201ceither mindless or impossible.\u201d The hours? \u201cGrueling.\u201d And worse yet, the managers: \u201cThey were some of the least respectable people I\u2019ve ever engaged with professionally.\u201d This was an impressive firm that would make outsiders raise an approving eyebrow, but inside, she found stressed, striving, and unhealthy people. <\/p>\n

She was haunted by what she saw as her inevitable future in this rarefied niche of global consulting: \u201cThe more I hear from executives, the more apparent it seems that the only way to truly succeed is to fully merge your being with your work.\u201d She shuddered imagining a life in which she skipped lunch to earnestly recount her career trajectory at an intern roundtable; a consciousness that revolved around advancing the bottom line. She was writing to express her own ambivalence with this apparent contradiction: She can see through the delusion of institutional prestige, and yet, she still finds herself most impressed by ambitious women who bear its gleaming stamp of approval.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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>
\n \u201c<\/span>The organizations most adept at brokering this deal between capital and labor are those that can convince you to accept most of your remuneration in a currency other than money, thereby maximizing their profit.\u201d<\/span>\n <\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/figure>\n
\n

Her words rattled around in my brain for days. Since the dawn of capitalism, the fantasy of the satisfied \u201ccompany (wo)man\u201d she describes has duped hopefuls into trading their only truly non-renewable resources (time, health) for something more abstract (comparatively little money, institutional validation). The organizations most adept at brokering this deal between capital and labor are those that can convince you to accept most of your remuneration in a currency other than money, thereby maximizing their profit.<\/strong> They are almost always esteemed, demanding, and ruthless. It can feel as though the only way to maneuver them is to renounce your individuality and become one with the for-profit organization. <\/p>\n

This deception is not exclusive to white collar work, and it\u2019s especially prevalent in industries that scan as \u201cfor women.\u201d In fact, perhaps nowhere is it more obvious than in an entity that might appear the polar opposite of Deloitte or McKinsey: The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders organization. In a new Netflix documentary series called America\u2019s Sweethearts<\/em><\/span><\/a>, Charlotte Jones\u2014daughter of Jerry Jones, the billionaire who owns the Cowboys\u2014says the quiet part out loud in the very first episode when she notes, without a hint of irony, that the cheerleaders aren\u2019t there \u201cfor the money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c[The cheerleaders] aren\u2019t paid a lot, but the facts are they actually don\u2019t come here for the money,\u201d she explains. \u201cThey come here for something that\u2019s actually bigger than that to them\u2026They have the chance to feel like they\u2019re valued, that they\u2019re special, and that they\u2019re making a difference. When the women come here, they find their passion and they find their purpose.\u201d It feels important to note that Charlotte reportedly earns $1.5 million per year<\/span><\/a>. Borrowing her logic, we can assume she\u2019s not<\/em> there for passion, purpose, or to be part of something bigger than herself, but to collect $125,000 per month before taxes.<\/p>\n

Her comments are a veritable checklist of the excuses people make for lower wages in women-led professions: Women work not for wages, but for personal fulfillment. This creates the logical scaffolding necessary to justify low pay, rendering money an unimportant byproduct of their work. The NFL Players Association has collectively bargained for a minimum salary of $795,000<\/span><\/a>. Meanwhile, the cheerleaders, who have an average salary of $22,500<\/span><\/a>, brought a class action antitrust suit<\/span><\/a> against the NFL in 2017 for conspiring to keep wages low across teams. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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>
\n \u201c<\/span>Her comments are a veritable checklist of the excuses people make for lower wages in women-led professions: Women work not for wages, but for personal fulfillment.\u201d<\/span>\n <\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/figure>\n
\n

In short, take all of the expectations, bullshit, and impossibilities of modern womanhood and American capitalism, crank up the dial to its logical extreme, and you get the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. <\/p>\n

The 36 women who comprise the team are supernaturally talented and driven\u2014they are constantly coiffed, energetic, positive. They care for one another, accessing seemingly bottomless reserves of optimism and appreciation. They are professional athletes who also happen to be orthodontists and accountants outside of the 30 hours they devote to their \u201cpart-time job\u201d each week that nets the Cowboys organization many, many millions of dollars. For a sense of scale: A single poster<\/span><\/a> of five cheerleaders earned the Cowboys $3 million<\/span><\/a> in 1977; each woman featured was paid $150. (And that\u2019s 10x more than their $15 game fee at the time!)<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a rich text for just about any social issue you\u2019re interested in, except, unfortunately, for the organization\u2019s practically explicit preference for white women. Outside of a scene or two, it devotes practically no time to the topic. (\u201cDo it for the brown girls,\u201d one woman of color tells another after being cut from training camp, an episode before she, too, is sent home.)<\/p>\n

Since its inception, women have been doing almost all of the work and pocketing almost none of the profit. The official Cowboys website credits Tex Schramm<\/span><\/a>, the team\u2019s first general manager, with dreaming up the cheerleaders. But as Sarah Hepola\u2019s reporting<\/span><\/a> uncovered for Texas Monthly<\/em>, the real founder of the squad (who had to beg for Tex\u2019s approval) was a woman named Dee Brock. Tex asked her to coach them for free. The woman who designed the iconic uniform that now lives on display in the Smithsonian<\/span><\/a>? She was paid nothing. This is because, of course, you are paid in adoration and social capital for your historic role, a tradeoff the players are not expected to make.<\/p>\n

As a result of this deal, the cheerleaders themselves are tasked with embodying a set of oxymorons that produce a frustrating double-speak throughout the series. Their presence in the organization says that they are special, and<\/em> that they could be replaced at a moment\u2019s notice. It is both \u201cjust a fun, part-time thing,\u201d according to representatives for the Cowboys, and yet, at every turn, the women are reminded what an invaluable privilege they enjoy as \u201celite global ambassadors\u201d of this \u201cworld-class brand.\u201d Depending on what an executive is trying to rationalize, being a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader is either a breezy extracurricular or<\/em> a blood oath not to be undertaken lightly. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
>
\n \u201c<\/span>Depending on what an executive is trying to rationalize, being a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader is either a breezy extracurricular or a blood oath not to be undertaken lightly.\u201d<\/span>\n <\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/figure>\n
\n

Jump cut to five-year veteran, Kelcey, eating dinner in a dark kitchen. She describes her schedule: She\u2019s up by 6 for work, off at 4:30, then at practice until 10 PM, often eating dinner around 11 and falling asleep by 1. She gets up 5 hours later and does it all over again.<\/p>\n

Shortly after we hear about Kelcey\u2019s non-stop schedule designed to ensure the Cowboys\u2019 bottom line is not threatened by paying a living wage, we join the two matriarchs of the DCC\u2014Kelli and Judy\u2014deliberating in a conference room about another cheerleader. \u201cDon\u2019t you think she just looked tired<\/em>?\u201d They tsk-tsked. \u201cShe just didn\u2019t seem like she had the energy<\/em>.\u201d In this way, the system produces outcomes that those with proximity to power pretend not to understand: The workers are blamed for perceived underperformance, the managers feign confusion and exasperation.<\/p>\n

This effect reaches a fever pitch in the final episode, when Victoria, one of the most tragic characters in the series, is told by her coaches that she\u2019d \u201chave to fight for her spot\u201d as a fifth-year. \u201cYou just seemed fatigued toward the end of the season,\u201d one coach tells her, following a 21-day streak <\/em>of non-stop performing over the holidays. \u201cYour kicks\u2026\u201d she says, trailing off, as though Victoria should understand. When Victoria leaves, Kelli hugs her: \u201cYou just need to relax! Just enjoy it.\u201d I threw my remote at the television.<\/p>\n

Nearly every single cheerleader who is released from training camp tearfully declares her intention to return and try again next year, citing a bewildering loyalty to this cold, multibillion-dollar corporation owned by a man with the morals of an alley cat<\/span><\/a>. <\/p>\n

Despite being harassed (one is sexually assaulted by a photographer on Thanksgiving day), stalked (\u201cSomeone put an AirTag on my car\u201d), and underpaid ($20 per hour!), these women return to the Cowboys altar, ready to sacrifice themselves again. They rarely call it a job, instead routinely using the word \u201cdream.\u201d Of course, no other characterization could justify such an extreme level of devotion; this full merging of organization and self.<\/p>\n

Management consulting, cheerleading\u2014the allegiance only sounds completely irrational when the dream is not your own. But consider the way nearly all labor\u2014especially that which codes as \u201cfeminine, \u201d both paid and unpaid\u2014expects or explicitly requires ceding the territory of the self. Whether staying late at work to plan the party for no extra pay, or subjecting ourselves to expensive, rigorous aesthetic upkeep, or using the free time our jobs have not claimed to do the physical labor of managing a household and caring for those in it. Like I said: the most flawless allegory for American capitalism I\u2019ve ever seen\u2014and with dance sequences, no less! <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
>
\n \u201c<\/span>It\u2019s a story about capital\u2019s gaze\u2014and the way we all exist under its exacting, contradiction-laden purview.\u201d<\/span>\n <\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/figure>\n
\n

Yes, the performance itself\u2014the uniform, the dancing\u2014is calibrated to the male gaze. Somehow, that\u2019s the less interesting read. This is not a story about the male gaze; at least, not really. It\u2019s a story about capital\u2019s gaze\u2014and the way we all exist under its exacting, contradiction-laden purview.<\/strong> Much like the cheerleaders, many of us mistake the system\u2019s shortcomings as our own. <\/p>\n

When things go sideways, the women assume it must\u2019ve been their unpointed toes in the kick line, or torsos with the wrong number of inches between their belly buttons and belt buckles. This isn\u2019t so different from the 22-year-old at the underpaid finance internship who finds he can\u2019t hack the 80-hours-per-week commitment, and views his underperformance as a personal failing. We assume the system must be working as intended\u2014that we are the problem in need of fixing.<\/p>\n

But perhaps the greatest contradiction they personify is the way in which these women find genuine purpose, meaning, and belonging in the midst of this toxicity and exploitation. This is not because of the organization\u2014the flawed structure they exist within\u2014but in spite of it. Imagine what that spirit\u2014all the resilience, enthusiasm, and talent\u2014would create writ large if we could all stop using it to make men like Jerry Jones richer.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A few weeks ago, I received an email from a listener who was grappling with the hollow trappings of prestige. She described graduating from an MBA program and starting a fancy management consulting job. 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