If you’re so special, prove it
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
image courtesy of helgasms!
I grew up right at the beginning of “self-esteem culture.” We got ribbons for participating in Field Day, even if we didn’t win anything, and though our teachers didn’t hold back with criticism, they did take care with our feelings. This seemed to work pretty well; as I recall, I had a fairly good understanding of my strengths and weaknesses, and conceited kids were brought back down to size by the pack rather quickly.
It’s been almost 20 years since I was in school, though, and things have changed. Parents and teachers are more mindful of the self-esteem of children, and often praise them for, as Chris Rock famously put it, “shit they are supposed to do.” The result? Ever-more-entitled people who see themselves as special and above average for no particular reason.
I know this kind of smacks of the “Kids these days!” thing that happens in every generation. But you don’t have to take my word for it. Psychology researcher Jean Twenge documents the rise of self-infatuation among Americans in her recently released book, The Narcissism Epidemic, and in her blog. A quote (via the EnlightenNext editors’ blog):
There was a survey done last year asking college students about their academic experiences. To the question “If you explain to your professor that you’re trying hard, should he or she increase your grade?” two-thirds of college students said yes. I’m a professor and I study narcissism, and I was still shocked by that number! The “everybody gets a trophy” mentality basically says that you’re going to get rewarded just for showing up. First of all, that’s not how the real world works. Second, that won’t build true self-esteem; instead, it builds this empty sense of “I’m just fantastic, not because I did anything but just because I’m here.”
I’ve definitely noticed this in my life. A coworker tells me “I worked really hard on that project!” when the results obviously still need refining. Friends become infatuated with their own weaknesses, weaving them into an all-absorbing drama while real relationships and dreams crumble around them.
And I’m not immune either. My richly-deserved treats, my tendency to slack off whenever I feel like it, my fascination with everything that’s wrong with me—all are manifestations of this same phenomenon.
The funny thing is that, even as levels of unearned self-love rise, so do levels of cynicism, apathy, and prescriptions for anti-depressants. So apparently something is not working here.
Thinking about this reminded me of an experience I had in 11th grade. Schoolwork had always come easily to me, but it wasn’t until I had a challenging project to sink my teeth into—a long paper that required loads of research, writing, and editing—that I felt the true satisfaction of having done a good job. Even with all the As on my report card, I didn’t feel truly accomplished until I actually accomplished something difficult.
This experience and others taught me that real self-esteem cannot be protected or created from the outside. It develops as a result of effort from the inside.
The interesting thing about narcissism, to me, is that it presupposes that our psychodramas are endlessly fascinating when the truth is that they are decidedly not. I know that the workings of my psyche can be so mechanical that it bores me to tears. Aren’t you sick of dealing with the same problems you’ve had since you were 15? Aren’t there worthier and more interesting topics to be obsessed with?
The world needs us to tear our gaze away from our own reflections—to look up and participate in reality. Simply being here in and of itself does not make us unique or worthy of high self-regard; what we do shows who we are much more than what we believe about ourselves. If we are so special, then let’s prove it.
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See more articles by Megan Dietz.
I see this phenomenon all the time with writers who come to work for me at TasteTO. People with journalism degrees who hand in articles that look like they were written by a high school freshman, and who throw tantrums when I do my job and edit and critique their work.
I have a whole spiel that I go through when hiring new people… “I’m not your Mom, I’m not your mentor and I’m not your teacher. I don’t hand out gold stars. My job is to find fault with your work and make it better, not tell you how wonderful you are because you got it finished. We work on a deadline and you’re expected to meet it. We’re old and cranky and you’ll be expected to work within our framework and our expectations. If you’re not prepared to work in the real work and live up to the responsibilities you’ve taken on, this might not be the gig for you.”
Even after all that, some of them still get pouty because I don’t praise them enough. Oddly, it’s almost always the terrible writers who give me attitude about edits.
I think I would phrase this a little differently. I think I’d say: “If you want something, earn it,” and that something could include self esteem. But as you’ve put it, I think this could be construed to mean that people are undeserving of love unless they prove themselves useful. And I think that’s a dangerous slope of utilitarianism. We love people based on *who* they are, often in spite of what they do or don’t do. This is an important part of the glue that holds human societies together — the idea that our worth is, at least in part, based on our inherent selves and not on our performance. There’s no sense in praising someone for a *job* not well done, but at the same time, I think we too often fail to recognize and appreciate the divine and unique in each other.
sheryl, it sounds like you have a lot of experience with this! is asking people to live up to high standards being cranky? maybe.
and erika, i see your point. there is a “beingness” about each of us that *is* unique and, in truth, divine and that is important to remember.
i don’t mean to suggest that people only deserve love based on what they do. but at the same time, there are those who contribute very little and still expect to be treated as special. i know people who truly believe that they deserve to be loved/cared for/attended to no matter what they do, and that strikes me as pretty dangerous, too.
there’s a pretty important question here, i think, and it has echoes in the age-old debate of how do i accept myself the way i am and also strive to continually grow? too much acceptance leads to laziness, and too much focus on growth can lead to overwork/burn out/alienating those around us.
i think there’s at least a partial answer in the idea that we are all processes, part of a larger process, continually changing as a whole and in parts, and, fundamentally, there is nothing wrong with any of it. right now most of us are in this extremely narcissistic place, but that doesn’t mean that we have to stay there ...
Another thoughtful and thought-provoking essay, Megan! I was going to say something very similar to what Erika said, so instead I’ll just point out that twice (once in the Jean Twenge quote and once in Sheryl’s comment) mention is made of “the real world” as if it were a fixed commodity. But who gets to decide what that is?
Like Sheryl, I was an editor for 6 years, and I know how needy and self-absorbed writers can be. But I’m also a writer, and I know how helpful it is to get caring feedback. So during my tenure as an editor, I tried to, as often as time/energy/compassion-reserves permitted, bend the “real world” rules, which in this case meant listening with an open mind when writers complained/pouted, and giving detailed feedback when I could. I certainly wasn’t always able to keep that up, but when I did, it added an extra dimension to my work, and I felt like I was contributing to what I want the “real world” and the workplace to be, while still maintaining high editorial standards.
I can’t say for sure if this isn’t some more insidious form of narcissism, but I’m ok with being a work-in-progress. :)
I don’t know, I think everyone deserves to be loved, no matter what they do, because everyone contains in them that sacredness. As far as being cared for or attended to, that’s different. Those things are more part of a social contract and if you aren’t holding up your end, then no one else is obligated to hold it up for you. I think we are both totally mundane and completely divine — it’s true there’s too much congratulating people for stuff they really should just do (my pet peeve on this score: calling everyone “heroes”) but I think there simultaneously is far too little celebration of who people are. We say “I love you but I can’t tolerate this behavior” to our spouses and children and good friends all the time — we can expand this language to everyone.
Paula and Erika, thanks for sharing your thoughts.
I try to do the same as you when giving feedback to others, Paula—to be both gentle and clear if it’s at all possible. At this point in history, we’re all facing this narcissistic tendency, and we need each other’s help to get past it.
Erika, I guess a lot of it has to do with what you mean by “love”. There is the diffuse, everyone-deserves-love kind of love, and there are the people who I actively have a loving relationship with. The first kind of love must be extended to everyone, but as far as a truly loving relationship, well, I don’t typically have those with people who don’t treat me well most of the time…
To me, though, the most important thing here is not to point a finger and say to other people “You are so narcissistic, you need to stop it.” It’s to open up a discussion about how to become interested in things other than our own reflections, as individuals and as a culture. And how to honor, and use, our sacred human abilitise in the service of something deeper and wider ...
“...and use, our sacred human abilities in the service of something deeper and wider ...”
Totally! I think narcissism is the human condition and, like you said, we all need to help each other see the light. And I also think it can be done.
My parents raised us with this belief: “You’re very special to us…but out there in the world you’re just not all that special. Remember that!”
Praising kids for “shit they’re supposed to do” is a major pet peeve of mine. It goes beyond praising even. A lot of people I know will give their kids a reward for not having a temper tantrum in a store or not talking back to their teacher for a week. I know a girl who gets a Barbie doll whenever she goes to the doctor without throwing a fit. What kind of message does that send? On one hand it sends the “you’re special” message, but on the other hand it says, “I don’t think you are capable of more than this” and that’s an insidious thing to tell children.
I don’t think having high expectations means you have to be cranky, though. Crankiness and constructive criticism are highly incompatible. Crankiness is just one person unleashing their baggage on another. I’d be put off by Sheryl’s speech upon hiring because it assumes upfront that the person is going to be irresponsible and whiny. How does that set a high standard? A responsible person is likely to hear that and think, “F you. You don’t even know me. I’m not interested in being the whipping boy for all your past frustrations.”
Anyway, back on point. I think more than self-esteem, which has come to mean a sort of nebulous, wishy-washy self love, I am aiming to raise my kids with self respect. I want them to know that they have intrinsic dignity, and with that dignity comes a right to basic human respect. I want them to know that Zach and I love them unconditionally, but that the path to a fulfilling life lies in positive action. I could go on, but my thoughts on raising responsible kids to be responsible adults could fill a book.
stella, your point about teaching kids that they are not capable of more than the bare minimum is a great one, and something i hadn’t really thought of.
it makes me think about hierarchy and how thoroughly we’ve rejected it. there is a hierarchy built into nature, and into human culture—for instance, i’m not going to go into a calculus class assuming that i am as knowledgeable as the teacher, i’m going to recognize that this person has more advanced skills than mine, so that i can learn from them.
recognizing hierarchy is, i think, an important skill that we need to learn. i don’t mean authoritarian hierarchy—i mean hierarchy that is detectable and true and tangible. i can feel that when i hang out with certain people, they are more compassionate, more courageous, more knowledgeable than i am. being able to admit this—having the humility to recognize that i’m not fully-baked yet, none of us are—means that i can continue to learn and grow.
if we flatten everything out, so that everyone is great regardless of what they do, then where is the impetus for growth? how do we even know who to look up to?
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