The Passion Of Saxon Ratliff
What The White Lotus' Alpha Bro Tells Us About Issues Concerning Young Men Today
I wanted to hate Saxon Ratliff.
The stereotypical dude bro alpha male rich white boy from North Carolina, played by Patrick Schwarzeneggar1, is one of the standout characters of this season of The White Lotus. The eldest child of Southern snobs Timothy (Jason Isaacs) and Victoria (Parker Posey), Saxon burst on the scene in the first episode, a protein smoothie-chugging pretty boy oozing the type of smarmy cocksure attitude that would get #MeToo activists fired up.
Strutting around with his six-pack and Harvard crew chic sunglasses, Saxon does not pull empathy out of you. He’s a stereotypical rich jock, treating women like they should be honored to sleep with him, and left confused when women don’t respond as if he is a gift from them that fell out of the sky. Schwarzeneggar is careful not to go over the top with Saxon’s narcissism, but it’s unmistakably there.
Throughout the season, his attempts to get his more reserved younger brother Lachlan (Sam Nivola) laid—treating him as some pet project—culminate in the most shocking part of the season, an incestuous act between the brothers. Lost, though, in that plot device that felt like a way for HBO to get eyeballs on the show, is who Saxon is and what is hiding behind the costume of conceitedness. Saxon represents a glaring societal problem - the radicalization of young men into regressive ideals. We finally get insight into this in the penultimate episode, aired last Sunday.
Saxon’s privileged life is about to be destroyed, perhaps ended, because of no fault of his own. He has a goal, to be as rich and powerful as his father is, but he doesn’t know that his father is about to go down for financial crimes and take his family and their status with him. In last week’s episode, Saxon senses that something is wrong with his father – who has been fielding calls from colleagues and lawyers back home – and that perhaps it’s work-related. He makes an impassioned plea to Timothy to read him in to whatever is going on and let him help, but Timothy assures him it’s okay. In this raw moment, we see the arrogance that has defined Saxon until this point melt away and be replaced by a lost, frightened, almost desperate human. He explains that he has no hobbies, no interests, and his entire life depends on his being a success, which he has tied to his father’s business ventures. It echos something Chelsea (Aimee Lou Wood), whom he unsuccessfully tries to get into bed earlier in the series, tells him – he has no soul.
For the first time, we understand and empathize with Saxon. Even if we still hate him as a person and find him to be a douche, there’s some pity there. This is somebody who doesn’t know who he is, nor has ever allowed himself to find out. When he tells his father he is fine being “Timothy Ratliff’s son” and nothing more, it fundamentally changed how I viewed him. Who is Saxon Ratliff? Does anyone know?
That question can be asked of many men under 30 lately. I think it’s a significant reason this demographic shifted heavily toward Donald Trump politically and socially last year, which has become regressive on many issues, from social justice to economics. It’s why male classmates are soliciting my friend’s teenage daughter in ways that would have been appalling when I was in college 20 years ago. It’s why young men have no problem using slurs openly online. It’s why people like Andrew Tate and Joe Rogan have such a significant influence on this generation. What changed?
In the last five years, climaxing with the COVID-19 Pandemic, young men under 30 have had the same experiences generations before them—entering the real world and finding reality far different than they assumed. It’s a life experience I had coming out of college right before the Great Recession. At 25, I was the youngest to win a local TV award for producing a town hall and then lost my job because of the Great Recession and spent eight months collecting unemployment – something out of my control. I was an award-winning print journalist and achieved my dream of being an editor in chief, but I lost it because the publisher wanted to focus on his political consulting firm. I left journalism at one point to go into magazine editing, but lost my job because the manager who hired me screwed up and put me in the wrong position. Again, not my fault. In real estate, I have had the experience of having million-dollar real estate deals collapse because the condo or co-op board changed the rules at the last minute or a listing agent gave us the wrong information before an offer was made. I have had several deals collapse in March 2020 due to the pandemic. Thousands of dollars in commission right out the window, none due to my actions. All that work for nothing.
The difference, of course, is that my frustration with having my livelihood depend on the actions or inactions of others was not met with toxic influencers who used it to enrage me further. In my greenhorn years, people I looked up to and sought advice would tell me, “As long as you did your best,” and “learn from this” after failures. Failing, they told me, was a part of life. You had to experience it, sometimes more often than success. A favorite teacher once said, “The best badges of honor are the failures.”
They would advise me to lean into my areas of expertise and interest and take breaks. Take time to attend social events, read a book, or take hikes. Don’t make it all about work, don’t put too much pressure on yourself, take things day by day, and don’t obsess over things you cannot control.
But that was then, and this is now. Years of centering the downtrodden – especially women and people of color – cast out first white straight men, then all straight men, and then men in general. Terms like “toxic masculinity” and “patriachy” all spoke to real issues with a male-dominated world holding up a glass ceiling. Still, they dismissed the real problems young men have as unimportant and low priority due to their privilege, leaving them vulnerable to toxic influence.
I know this kind of toxic influence because it landed in my ear in the mid-2010s. Self-help gurus and manosphere voices ask me, "Have you considered this failure happened because you're afraid of success?" or “Do you think you’ve dedicated enough time to this? Have you wasted too much time on hobbies or interests outside work?”
They offer me useless advice that makes them sound impressive in their own minds:
“You, Nick, are the master of your destiny. Luck? Create your own luck. You are your successes.”
I would respond, “No, that’s insane.”
I got that advice and influence in my mid-to-late 30s after much life experience, not in my early 20s, fresh into adulthood. At an earlier age, I might have been persuaded to agree that my lack of promised success despite work and dedication was simply some psychological block or because nefarious outside forces were interfering with me. I might agree that my worth is my bank account and my enemy is whoever stands in my way of increasing the number of zeros in it. Like Saxon, young men today are groomed to believe their only use in society is in being tough, powerful, and wealthy. All they are is success. Without it, they are nobody.
Mike White, the creator and director of The White Lotus, has not shied away from dealing with “male issues” in the series. Saxon continues the “alpha male who needs to constantly prove himself because he has nothing else” narrative that White explored in the first season with Jake Lacy’s character Shane and in the second season with Theo James’ Cameron. Lachlan is the next chapter in the “misunderstood, disregarded young man in crisis” narrative that White explored in the first season with the supporting character of Quinn Mossbacher (Fred Hechinger) and in the second season with Albie Di Marco (Adam DiMarco).
Interestingly, all these male characters ultimately got what they wanted or found what they needed. That might be a hint that Saxon’s ending may not be tragic.
Yes, he is the son of Arnold Schwarzeneggar and Maria Shriver, and thus also a Kennedy.