Taller men that is, according to Catherine Rampell writing in her NYT Economix blog:
“. . . taller people generally lead better lives than shorter people. How much better? Here are two charts showing the typical levels of well-being in 2010 for men of various heights:
As you can see, there’s a pretty steady relationship between well-being and height for men. The taller men are, generally speaking, the happier they are.”
Rempell conclude’s her post by inviting “the sociobiologists among you out there to theorize about why.”
Get a load of this sociobiologist reader’s response:
Uh yeah… really difficult to figure out. Women like taller guys. Therefore taller guys get laid more. It’s anthropology 101. He who gets laid the most, or thinks he can get laid the most, is most happy. Even happily married monogamous taller men are happier by the sheer thought that if they had to, they could get back on the market and get laid.
I am a handsome but shorter man who had women chasing me constantly up until about 21 years of age. Actually my peak was about 13 years old when my height was more average and female weren’t yet completely hormonally driven toward producing tall offspring. After 21 things dropped off dramatically. Suddenly women were thinking marriage, and therefore producing offspring, and my height became my number one problem.
Never the less, due to a congenial personality, I did o.k. into my mid 30’s, where again things dropped off even more due to women seriously up against the biological clock. The cougar mentality sets in for any attractive women in her early to mid thirties. So, I moved to Asia. And I am once again a rock star. My height here is average, my income is way above average, and I am getting laid by model quality women in their mid 20’s.
If your short man and decent looking… have money… move to Asia. You will be rolling in it.. literally.
My nomination for the “all time” accidentally most funny reader response on the New York Times website. As a student of globalization, this opens a whole new field of inquiry for me. Guys switching continents to increase their odds of getting laid.
I think dad was 6’1″, my brothers are sixish, but I always worked harder than them at being tall, and as a result, I topped out at 6′ 2 and 1/4″. Unmentioned in the original post is the stress that comes with women throwing themselves at your tall self all the time—in the produce section of the grocery store, at the gas station, between church servcies. I’ve learned to let them down gracefully, but still, it can wear on you.
My sociobiological theory is different than Asian short man’s. I suspect the secret of my happiness is the repeated requests for help from mother-dear, the GalPal, and even co-workers to reach something beyond their grasp. Looking skyward, always with a sparkle in their eyes, they ask, “Can you reach that for me? Can you put this up on that shelf for me? Can you get that down? Can you put the angel on top of the tree?” “Why yes I can, stand back while I do what I do.”
Sometimes it’s pretty obvious that the GalPal makes up these requests just to leer lasciviously at my tallest, most hunky self. I’m gonna guess that the gratification that comes with putting a clean Tupperware dish on the highest shelf in mom’s kitchen cabinet trumps the satisfaction that comes with getting laid by model quality women in their mid 20’s.