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Popularity has a formula. It is not found in warmth, nor in humility, nor in doing good. Rather it resides in the perception of power and a penchant for risk, as well as an ability to move through the world unencumbered by convention. That, at least, is the conclusion of a sweeping study published this year in the American Psychological Association. The research, spanning 13 culturally diverse countries and 5,943 respondents, seeks to define that elusive trait of modern social capital: coolness.
Though the concept originated in mid-20th century African-American jazz culture and was later co-opted by advertisers and tech firms, the appeal of coolness has outlived its countercultural roots. The new findings suggest coolness is not a Western affectation but a cross-cultural signal, recognised in settings as disparate as Lagos and Leipzig, Mumbai and Monterrey. Across national, demographic and linguistic boundaries, people consistently associate coolness with the same six traits: extraversion, hedonism, adventurousness, openness to experience, autonomy and power.
The researchers contrasted these with traits linked to being a “good” person—warmth, agreeableness, conscientiousness, calmness, tradition and concern for others. These were valued, but they did not make a person cool. The overlap between coolness and goodness was limited to perceived competence. The rest diverged sharply. Put differently: those seen as cool were not necessarily admired for moral integrity but for a kind of expressive sovereignty. A cool person, in this view, is not the village elder but the stylish outsider.
The distinction is more than semantic. It suggests admiration and moral approval operate on parallel but separate tracks. Whereas institutions reward conscientiousness and conformity, social capital increasingly accrues to those who deviate with flair. Coolness is not an ethical virtue. It is a reputational asset, cultivated through visibility, risk tolerance and the subtle suggestion that rules are made for others.
The global consistency of those findings raises questions about cultural convergence. One might expect societies with collectivist norms—such as India or China—to prize conformity or tradition in their cool archetypes. Yet respondents across all 13 countries converged on the same six traits. Minor deviations, such as weaker associations between coolness and autonomy in Nigeria or openness in Turkey, did not upend the wider pattern. The implication is coolness may be one of the few aspirational ideals that globalisation has homogenised.
The implications transcend pop culture. Coolness shapes behaviour in education, leadership and consumption. People who are perceived as cool exert disproportionate influence on trends and norms. The research indicates individuals aspire to be seen as cool not out of vanity but for access to status, group inclusion and, possibly, resources. In markets saturated with information and taste, coolness becomes a form of soft power—difficult to quantify, harder still to engineer, but recognised and rewarded all the same.
This also introduces a paradox. If coolness is admired but not moral, it may be misaligned with institutional values. Educational systems reward discipline and agreeableness; firms promote conscientiousness and reliability. Yet social ecosystems, particularly those online, elevate the bold and autonomous and idiosyncratic. The disjunction between organisational virtue and social charisma can complicate hiring, branding, even governance.
Nor is coolness easily manufactured. Authenticity matters. Attempts to appear cool by mimicking the traits—adventurousness, openness, power—tend to backfire when they seem inauthentic or calculated. A central theme in the study is coolness must appear effortless even if it is strategically curated. The social penalty for “trying too hard” is real and acute.
Though marketers have long tried to harness coolness, the findings suggest its cultural resonance rests not in fashion or technology but in psychological archetypes. Coolness endures because it signals something both desirable and scarce: the ability to be seen, admired as well as envied without seeking approval. It is a secular charisma: aspirational, yet fundamentally social, shaped by what others perceive, rather than what the individual possesses.
This is unlikely to change soon. As economies grow more intangible, and social interaction moves increasingly into mediated space, the traits that define coolness (expressiveness, novelty, autonomy) will carry more weight. In a world governed less by hierarchy and more by influence, being cool may become not a subcultural quirk but a universal currency. Not everyone can be good. Even fewer can be cool. But almost everyone wants to be seen trying—without appearing to. ■
