Some years ago, lecturing on this subject in Detroit, with members of the automotive industry in the audience, I made the following observation: “Right now Washington is trying to decide whether to bail out Chrysler by guaranteeing a large loan. Never mind for the moment whether you think that’s an appropriate government function; I don’t think it is, but that’s irrelevant. The point is, if you work for Chrysler and tie your self-esteem to being a high achiever in that company or to earning a good income this year, then what that means practically is that you are willing for some persons in Washington literally to hold your soul in their hands, to have total control over your sense of worth. Does that idea offend you? I hope so. It offends me.”
It is bad enough, during economic hard times, to have to worry about money and our family’s welfare and future, but it is still worse if we allow our self-esteem to become undermined in the process—by telling ourselves, in effect, that our efficacy and worth are a function of our earnings.
On occasion I have counseled older men and women who found themselves unemployed, passed over in favor of people a good deal younger who were in no way better equipped, or even as well equipped, for the particular job. I have also worked with highly talented young people who suffered from a reverse form of the same prejudice, a discrimination against youth in favor of age—where, again, objective competence and ability were not the standard. In such circumstances, often those involved suffer a feeling of loss of personal effectiveness. Such a feeling is only a hairline away from a sense of diminished self-esteem—and often turns into it. It takes an unusual kind of person to avoid falling into the trap of this error. It takes a person who is already well centered and who understands that some of the forces operating are beyond personal control and, strictly speaking, do not have (or should not have) significance for self-esteem. It is not that they may not suffer or feel anxiety for the future; it is that they do not interpret the problem in terms of personal worth.
When a question of self-esteem is involved, the question to ask is: Is this matter within my direct, volitional control? Or is it at least linked by a direct line of causality to matters within my direct, volitional control? If it isn’t, it is irrelevant to self-esteem and should be perceived to be, however painful or even devastating the problem may be on other grounds.
One day the teaching of this principle will be included in parents’ understanding of proper child-rearing. One day it will be taught in the schools.
4. I asked a friend of mine, a businessman approaching sixty, what goals he had for the rest of his life. He answered, “I don’t have any goals. All my life I’ve lived for the future, at the sacrifice of the present. I rarely stopped to enjoy my family or physical nature or any of the beautiful things the world has to offer. Now I don’t think or plan ahead. I still manage my money, of course, and do occasional deals. But my primary goal is to enjoy life each day—to appreciate fully everything I can. In that sense I suppose you could say I’m still living purposefully.”
It sounded, I told him, as if he had never learned how to balance projecting goals into the future with appreciating and living in the present. “That’s always been a problem for me,” he agreed.
As we have seen, this is not what living purposefully means or entails. It is appropriate to be blind neither to the future nor the present, but to integrate both into our experience and perceptions.
To the extent that our goal is to “prove” ourselves or to ward off the fear of failure, this balance is difficult to achieve. We are too driven. Not joy but anxiety is our motor.
But if our aim is self-expression rather than self-justification, the balance tends to come more naturally. We will still need to think about its daily implementation, but the anxiety of wounded self-esteem will not make the task nearly impossible.
Examples
All his life Jack dreamed of being a writer. He pictured himself at his typewriter, he visualized a growing stack of completed chapters, he saw his picture on the cover of Time. However, he was vague on what he wanted to write about. He could not have said what he wished to express. This did not disturb his pleasant reveries. He never thought about how to go about learning to write. In fact, he did not write. He merely daydreamed about writing. He drifted from one low-income job to another, telling himself he did not wish to be tied down or distracted, since his “real” profession was writing. The years went by and life seemed emptier and emptier. His fear of beginning to write escalated because now, by forty, he felt surely he should have begun. “Someday,” he said. “When I’m ready.” Looking at people around him, he told himself how mundane their lives were compared to his own. “They have no great visions,” he thought. “No great dreams. My aspirations are so much higher than theirs.”
Mary was an executive in an advertising agency. Her primary responsibilities were in marketing—developing new accounts. But she was a compassionate person, and she greatly enjoyed being helpful to those around her. She encouraged associates to drop into her office and talk about their problems; not only office problems but also personal ones. She enjoyed jokes to the effect that she was the “office shrink.” She did not notice that a large amount of her time was drained in activities for which she had not been hired. She became agitated when her performance appraisal reflected dissatisfaction with her work. Yet she found it difficult to change her pattern; the ego-gratification of “helping others” had become addictive. Consequently, there was a poor match between her conscious work goals and her behavior—between her professed purposes and the allocation of her time. A goal she had not chosen consciously took precedence over one she had chosen consciously. Since she did not practice the discipline of monitoring her actions for just such a possibility, the full reality of her lapse did not penetrate her awareness—until she was fired.
Mark wanted to be an effective father. He wanted to teach his son self-respect and self-responsibility. He thought that a good way to achieve this was by lecturing to his son. He did not notice that the more he lectured the more intimidated and uncertain his son became. When the boy showed any kind of fear, the father said, “Don’t be afraid!” When his son began to hide his feelings to avoid reproaches, the father said, “Speak up! If you’ve got something to say, say it!” As the son kept more and more to himself, the father said, “A real man participates in life!” The father wondered, “What’s the matter with that boy? Why won’t he ever listen to me?” In business, if the father tried something and it didn’t work, he tried something else. He did not blame his customers or the universe; he looked for what he might do that would be more effective. He paid attention to the outcomes of his actions. At home, however, when neither lectures nor reproaches nor shouting worked, he did them more often and intensely. In this context he did not think of tracking the outcomes of his actions. What he knew in the professional realm he had forgotten in the personal: Doing more of what doesn’t work doesn’t work.
Personal Examples
When I think of what living purposefully means in my life, I think first of taking responsibility for generating the actions necessary to achieve my goals. Living purposefully overlaps significantly with self-responsibility.
I think of a time when I wanted something I could not afford that represented a significant improvement in my way of living. A fairly large expenditure of money was involved. For several years I remained uncharacteristically passive about finding a solution. Then one day I had a thought that certainly was not new to me and yet somehow had fresh impact: If I don’t do something, nothing is going to change. This jolted me out of my procrastination, of which I had been dimly aware for a long time but had not confronted.
I proceeded to conceive and implement a project that was stimulating, challenging, profoundly satisfying and worthwhile—and that produced the additional income I needed.
In principle, I could have done it several years earlier. Only when I became bored and irritated with my own procrastination; only when I decided, “I commit myself to findi
ng a solution over the next few weeks”; only when I applied what I know about living purposefully to my own situation—only then did I launch myself into action and toward a solution.
When I did, I noticed that not only was I happier but also that my self-esteem rose.
* * *
If I don’t do something, nothing is going to change.
* * *
When I told this story in one of my self-esteem groups, I was challenged by someone who said, “That’s okay for you. But not everyone is in a position to develop new projects. What are we to do?” I invited him to talk about his own procrastination and about the unfulfilled desire involved. “If you made it your conscious purpose to achieve that desire,” I asked, “what might you do?” After a bit of good-natured prompting, he began to tell me.
Here is another personal example that involves self-discipline.
My wife, Devers, is exceptional in the degree of her benevolence, generosity, and kindness to other human beings and, above all, to me. Her consciousness—and consistency—in this aspect of life is very high. While my intentions have generally been good, I have never had her discipline in this area. My generosity has been more impulsive. This means that at times I could be unkind and uncompassionate without intention and without realizing it, simply from preoccupation.
One day, Devers said something that impressed me profoundly. “You are very kind, generous, and caring—when you stop long enough in what you are doing for it to occur to you. What you have never learned is the discipline of kindness. This means kindness that is not a matter of mood or convenience. It means kindness as a basic way of functioning. It is in you as a potential, but it doesn’t happen without consciousness and discipline, which perhaps you’ve never thought about.”
We had versions of this discussion more than once. An important step of my growth was when I integrated those discussions to the principle of living purposefully—so that kindness became not merely an inclination but a conscious goal.
For self-esteem, consistent kindness by intention is a very different experience from kindness by impulse.
Sentence-Completions to Facilitate Living Purposefully
Here are some stems that my clients find helpful in deepening their understanding of the ideas we have been discussing.
Living purposefully to me means—
If I bring 5 percent more purposefulness to my life today—
If I operate with 5 percent more purposefulness at work—
If I am 5 percent more purposeful in my communications—
If I bring 5 percent more purposefulness to my relationships at work—
If I operate 5 percent more purposefully in my marriage—
If I operate 5 percent more purposefully with my children—
If I operate 5 percent more purposefully with my friends—
If I am 5 percent more purposeful about my deepest yearnings—
If I am 5 percent more purposeful about taking care of my needs—
If I took more responsibility for fulfilling my wants—
If any of what I have been writing is true, it might be helpful if I—
Living purposefully is a fundamental orientation that applies to every aspect of our existence. It means that we live and act by intention. It is a distinguishing characteristic of those who enjoy a high level of control over their life.
The practice of living purposefully is the fifth pillar of self-esteem.
11
The Practice of Personal Integrity
As we mature and develop our own values and standards (or absorb them from others), the issue of personal integrity assumes increasing importance in our self-assessment.
Integrity is the integration of ideals, convictions, standards, beliefs—and behavior. When our behavior is congruent with our professed values, when ideals and practice match, we have integrity.
Observe that before the issue of integrity can even be raised we need principles of behavior—moral convictions about what is and is not appropriate—judgments about right and wrong action. If we do not yet hold standards, we are on too low a developmental rung even to be accused of hypocrisy. In such a case, our problems are too severe to be described merely as lack of integrity. Integrity arises as an issue only for those who profess standards and values, which, of course, is the great majority of human beings.
When we behave in ways that conflict with our judgment of what is appropriate, we lose face in our own eyes. We respect ourselves less. If the policy becomes habitual, we trust ourselves less or cease to trust ourselves at all.
No, we do not forfeit the right to practice self-acceptance in the basic sense discussed earlier; we have noted that self-acceptance is a precondition of change or improvement. But self-esteem necessarily suffers. When a breach of integrity wounds self-esteem, only the practice of integrity can heal it.
* * *
When we behave in ways that conflict with our judgment of what is appropriate, we lose face in our own eyes.
* * *
At the simplest level, personal integrity entails such questions as: Am I honest, reliable, and trustworthy? Do I keep my promises? Do I do the things I say I admire and do I avoid the things I say I deplore? Am I fair and just in my dealings with others?
Sometimes we may find ourselves caught in a conflict between different values that clash in a particular context, and the solution may be far from self-evident. Integrity does not guarantee that we will make the best choice; it only asks that our effort to find the best choice be authentic—that we stay conscious, stay connected with our knowledge, call on our best rational clarity, take responsibility for our choice and its consequences, do not seek to escape into mental fog.
Congruence
Integrity means congruence. Words and behavior match.
There are people we know whom we trust and others we do not. If we ask ourselves the reason, we will see that congruence is basic. We trust congruency and are suspicious of incongruency.
Studies disclose that many people in organizations do not trust those above them. Why? Lack of congruence. Beautiful mission statements unsupported by practice. The doctrine of respect for the individual disgraced in action. Slogans about customer service on the walls unmatched by the realities of daily business. Sermons about honesty mocked by cheating. Promises of fairness betrayed by favoritism.
In most organizations, however, there are men and woman whom others trust. Why? They keep their word. They honor their commitments. They don’t just promise to stick up for their people, they do it. They just don’t preach fairness, they practice it. They don’t just counsel honesty and integrity, they live it.
I gave a group of executives this sentence stem: If I want people to perceive me as trustworthy—. Here are typical endings: “I must keep my word”; “I must be evenhanded in my dealings with everyone”; “I must walk my talk”; “I must follow through on my commitments”; “I must look after my people against the higher-ups”; “I must be consistent.” To any executive who wishes to be perceived as trustworthy, there is no mystery about what is required.
There are parents whom their children trust and there are parents whom their children do not trust. Why? The principle is the same as above: congruence. Children may not be able to articulate what they know, but they know.
When We Betray Our Standards
To understand why lapses of integrity are detrimental to self-esteem, consider what a lapse of integrity entails. If I act in contradiction to a moral value held by someone else but not by me, I may or may not be wrong, but I cannot be faulted for having betrayed my convictions. If, however, I act against what I myself regard as right, if my actions clash with my expressed values, then I act against my judgment, I betray my mind. Hypocrisy, by its very nature, is self-invalidating. It is mind rejecting itself. A default on integrity undermines me and contaminates my sense of self. It damages me as no external rebuke or rejection can damage me.
If I give sermons on honesty to my childre
n yet lie to my friends and neighbors; if I become righteous and indignant when people do not keep their commitments to me but disregard my commitments to others; if I preach a concern with quality but indifferently sell my customers shoddy goods; if I unload bonds I know to be falling in value to a client who trusts my honor; if I pretend to care about my staff’s ideas when my mind is already made up; if I outmaneuver a colleague in the office and appropriate her achievements; if I ask for honest feedback and penalize the employee who disagrees with me; if I ask for pay sacrifices from others on the grounds of hard times and then give myself a gigantic bonus—I may evade my hypocrisy, I may produce any number of rationalizations, but the fact remains I launch an assault on my self-respect that no rationalization will dispel.
If I am uniquely situated to raise my self-esteem, I am also uniquely situated to lower it.
One of the great self-deceptions is to tell oneself, “Only I will know.” Only I will know I am a liar; only I will know I deal unethically with people who trust me; only I will know I have no intention of honoring my promise. The implication is that my judgment is unimportant and that only the judgment of others counts. But when it comes to matters of self-esteem, I have more to fear from my own judgment than from anyone else’s. In the inner courtroom of my mind, mine is the only judgment that counts. My ego, the “I” at the center of my consciousness, is the judge from whom there is no escape. I can avoid people who have learned the humiliating truth about me. I cannot avoid myself.
The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem Page 17