The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem

by Branden, Nathaniel

  * * *

  Most of the issues of integrity we face are not big issues but small ones, yet the accumulated weight of our choices has an impact on our sense of self.

  * * *

  I recall a news article I read some years ago about a medical researcher of high repute who was discovered to have been faking his data for a long time while piling up grant after grant and honor after honor. There was no way for self-esteem not to be a casualty of such behavior, even before the fakery was revealed. He knowingly chose to live in a world of unreality, where his achievements and prestige were equally unreal. Long before others knew, he knew. Impostors of this kind, who live for an illusion in someone else’s mind, which they hold as more important than their own knowledge of the truth, do not enjoy good self-esteem.

  Most of the issues of integrity we face are not big issues but small ones, yet the accumulated weight of our choices has an impact on our sense of self. I conduct weekly ongoing “self-esteem groups” for people who have come together for a specific purpose, to grow in self-efficacy and self-respect, and one evening I gave the group this sentence stem: If I bring 5 percent more integrity into my life—. As we went around the circle, here are the endings that were expressed:

  If I bring 5 percent more integrity into my life—

  I’d tell people when they do things that bother me.

  I wouldn’t pad my expense account.

  I’d be truthful with my husband about what my clothes cost.

  I’d tell my parents I don’t believe in God.

  I’d admit it when I’m flirting.

  I wouldn’t be so ingratiating to people I dislike.

  I wouldn’t laugh at jokes I think stupid and vulgar.

  I’d put in more of an effort at work.

  I’d help my wife more with chores, as I promised.

  I’d tell customers the truth about what they’re buying.

  I wouldn’t just say what people want to hear.

  I wouldn’t sell my soul to be popular.

  I’d say no when I want to say no.

  I would acknowledge my responsibility to people I’ve hurt.

  I’d make amends.

  I’d keep my promises.

  I wouldn’t pretend agreement.

  I wouldn’t deny it when I’m angry.

  I’d make more of an effort to be fair and not just fly off the handle.

  I’d admit it when others have helped me.

  I’d admit it to my children when I know I’m wrong.

  I wouldn’t take supplies home from the office.

  The ease and speed of people’s responses point to the fact that these matters are not very far beneath the surface of awareness, although there is understandable motivation to evade them. (One of the reasons I find sentence-completion work so useful is its power to bypass most blocks and avoidances.) A tragedy of many lives is that people greatly underestimate the self-esteem costs and consequences of hypocrisy and dishonesty. They imagine that at worst all that is involved is some discomfort. But it is the spirit itself that is contaminated.

  Dealing with Guilt

  The essence of guilt, whether major or minor, is moral self-reproach. I did wrong when it was possible for me to do otherwise. Guilt always carries the implication of choice and responsibility, whether or not we are consciously aware of it. For this reason, it is imperative that we be clear on what is and is not in our power—what is and is not a breach of integrity. Otherwise, we run the risk of accepting guilt inappropriately.

  * * *

  The idea of Original Sin is anti-self-esteem by its very nature.

  * * *

  For example, suppose someone we love—a husband, a wife, a child—is killed in an accident. Even though we may know the thought is irrational, we may tell ourselves, “Somehow I should have prevented it.” Perhaps this guilt is fed in part by our regrets over actions taken or not taken while the person was alive. In the case of deaths that seem senseless, such as when a person is hit by a careless automobile driver or dies during minor surgery, the survivor may experience an unbearable feeling of being out of control, of being at the mercy of an event that has no rational significance. Then self-blame or self-reproach can ameliorate the anguish, can diminish a sense of impotence. The survivor feels, “If only I had done such and such differently, this terrible accident would not have occurred.” Thus, “guilt” can serve the desire for efficacy by providing an illusion of efficacy. We see the same principle when children blame themselves for their parents’ wrongdoing. (“If I weren’t bad, Daddy wouldn’t have hit Mommy.” “If I weren’t bad, Mommy wouldn’t have gotten drunk and set the house on fire.”) This problem is examined in Honoring the Self.

  The protection of self-esteem requires a clear understanding of the limits of personal responsibility. Where there is no power, there can be no responsibility, and where there is no responsibility, there can be no reasonable self-reproach. Regret, yes; guilt, no.

  The idea of Original Sin—of guilt where there is no possibility of innocence, no freedom of choice, no alternatives available—is anti-self-esteem by its very nature. The very notion of guilt without volition or responsibility is an assault on reason as well as on morality.

  Let us think about guilt and how it can be resolved in situations where we are personally responsible. Generally speaking, five steps are needed to restore one’s sense of integrity with regard to a particular breach.

  1. We must own the fact that it is we who have taken the particular action. We must face and accept the full reality of what we have done, without disowning or avoidance. We own, we accept, we take responsibility.

  2. We seek to understand why we did what we did. We do this compassionately (as discussed under the practice of self-acceptance), but without evasive alibiing.

  3. If others are involved, as they often are, we acknowledge explicitly to the relevant person or persons the harm we have done. We convey our understanding of the consequences of our behavior. We acknowledge how they have been affected by us. We convey understanding of their feelings.

  4. We take any and all actions available that might make amends for or minimize the harm we have done.

  5. We firmly commit ourselves to behaving differently in the future.

  Without all these steps, we may continue to feel guilty over some wrong behavior, even though it happened years ago, even though our psychotherapist might have told us everyone makes mistakes, and even though the wronged person may have offered forgiveness. None of that may be enough; self-esteem remains unsatisfied.

  Sometimes we try to make amends without ever owning or facing what we have done. Or we keep saying “I’m sorry.” Or we go out of our way to be nice to the person we have wronged without ever addressing the wrong explicitly. Or we ignore the fact that there are specific actions we could take to undo the harm we have caused. Sometimes, of course, there is no way to undo the harm, and we must accept and make our peace with that; we cannot do more than what is possible. But if we do not do what is possible and appropriate, guilt tends to linger on.

  When guilt is a consequence of failed integrity, nothing less than an act of integrity can redress the breach.

  What If Our Values Are Irrational?

  While it is easy enough to recognize at a commonsense level the relationship between self-esteem and integrity, the issue of living up to our standards is not always simple. What if our standards are irrational or mistaken?

  We may accept or absorb a code of values that does violence to our nature and needs. For example, certain religious teachings implicitly or explicitly damn sex, damn pleasure, damn the body, damn ambition, damn material success, damn (for all practical purposes) the enjoyment of life on earth. If children are indoctrinated with these teachings, what will the practice of “integrity” mean in their lives? Some elements of “hypocrisy” may be all that keeps them alive.

  * * *

  Once we see that living up to our standards appears to be leading us toward self-d
estruction, the time has come to question our standards.

  * * *

  Once we see that living up to our standards appears to be leading us toward self-destruction, the time has come to question our standards rather than simply resigning ourselves to living without integrity. We must summon the courage to challenge some of our deepest assumptions concerning what we have been taught to regard as the good. That courage may be needed is evident in the following sentence completions commonly heard in my therapy practice. Any psychotherapist who cares to experiment with these stems can discover for him- or herself how typical these endings are.

  At the thought of going against my parents’ values—

  I feel frightened.

  I feel lost.

  I see myself as an outcast.

  I no longer belong with my family.

  I feel alone.

  I’d have to think for myself.

  I’d have to rely on my own mind.

  What would I do then?

  I’d lose my parents’ love.

  I’d have to grow up.

  If I were to think for myself about the values I want to live by—

  Mother would have a heart attack.

  I’d be free.

  I’d have to tell my parents I think they’re wrong about a lot of things.

  Is this what grown-ups do?

  I’d need an awful lot of nerve.

  Wouldn’t that be arrogant?

  I’d have to stand on my own feet.

  I couldn’t be Daddy’s little girl anymore.

  As examples of the confusion and conflict about what the practice of integrity might mean in daily living, I offer the following:

  Women who struggle with the moral dilemmas created by the Catholic church’s prohibition of birth control devices and abortion.

  Employees in government agencies who, appalled by the magnitude of bureaucratic corruption among colleagues and superiors, feel themselves caught in conflict between their notion of patriotism and good citizenship on the one hand and the demands of individual conscience on the other.

  Hard-working, ambitious businessmen who had been encouraged at the start of their careers to be productive and industrious but who, when they finally committed the sin of succeeding, were confronted with the disorienting biblical pronouncement that it shall be easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.

  Wives who sense that the traditional view of woman-as-servant-to-man is a morality of self-annihilation.

  Young men struggling with the dilemma of complying with or fleeing from military conscription.

  Former nuns and priests disenchanted with the religious institutions to which they had given their allegiance and striving to define their values outside the context of a tradition they can no longer accept.

  Rabbis or former rabbis with precisely the same problem.

  Young persons rebelling against the values of their parents and not knowing what vision of the good to live by instead.

  In such conflicts we see how essential are other practices, such as living consciously and self-responsibly, to integrity. We cannot practice integrity in an intellectual vacuum.

  To resolve any of the conflicts listed above, or countless others like them, one would have to rethink one’s deepest values, commitments, and priorities—or perhaps think about them for the first time—and be willing, if necessary, to challenge any and all authorities.

  * * *

  One of the most positive aspects of the women’s movement is its insistence that women think for themselves about who they are and what they want. But men need to learn this kind of independent thinking as much as women do.

  * * *

  One area in which living consciously and integrity clearly intersect is in the need to reflect on the values we have been taught, the shared assumptions of our family or culture, the roles we may have been assigned—and to question whether they fit our own perceptions and understanding, or whether they do violence to the deepest and best within us, to what is sometimes called “our true nature.” One of the most positive aspects of the women’s movement, as I see it, is its insistence that women think for themselves about who they are, what is possible and appropriate to them, and what they want (not what someone else wants them to want). But men need to learn this kind of independent thinking as much as women do. One of the penalties for living unconsciously—for both sexes—is that of enduring unrewarding lives in the service of self-stultifying ends never examined or chosen with awareness by the individuals involved.

  The higher the level of consciousness at which we operate, the more we live by explicit choice and the more naturally does integrity follow as a consequence.

  On Following Your Own Bliss

  Discussing the complexities of moral decision making in a lecture once, I was asked what I thought of Joseph Campbell’s counsel to “Follow your own bliss.” Did I believe it was ethically appropriate? I answered that while I liked what I believed to be Campbell’s basic intention, his statement could be dangerous if divorced from a rational context. I suggested this modification (if I were forced to condense my ideas on morality into a single sentence): “Live consciously—take responsibility for your choices and actions—respect the rights of others—and follow your own bliss.” I added that as a piece of moral advice I loved the Spanish proverb “ ‘Take what you want,’ said God, ‘and pay for it.’ ” But of course complex moral decisions cannot be made simply on the basis of statements such as these, helpful though they may sometimes be. A moral life requires serious reflection.

  Examples

  Philip is the close friend of a famous actor. He is the actor’s confidant. He listens emphatically when his friend calls him—sometimes in the middle of the night—to talk for hours about his personal and professional troubles. Philip’s feelings of self-worth are nurtured by the intimacies this famous man shares with him. When he is with his other friends, Philip can not resist dropping remarks from time to time that stress the closeness of their connection. “I know millions of women adore him, but you’d be surprised at how insecure he is. He’s always asking, ‘Is it me they want, or my fame?’” “He has this awful feeling of being an impostor. Isn’t that sad? He’s such a wonderful person.” “Sometimes—this is confidential, of course—he has trouble maintaining his erection.” Philip insists that he loves his friend and is absolutely loyal. What does he tell himself, at three o’clock in the morning, about his dozens of betrayals, generated by his craving for status in the eyes of his other friends? Does he notice that each such betrayal lowers rather than raises his self-esteem? Does he make the connection?

  Sally is a member of a book club whose monthly meetings she attends enthusiastically. They support her desire to feel cultured. The chairwoman is a charismatic, highly knowledgeable person whom everyone admires. Most of the women feel proud when she shares their literary assessments. They want to be on her “good side,” because that enhances their feelings of personal worth. One day the chairwoman has a falling out with a member of the club, someone who had been a good friend of Sally’s for years. No one knows what the dispute is about. The chairwoman chooses not to discuss its content except in very general terms. But she arranges for everyone to know that this person, who has dropped out of the club, is persona non grata. Now, no one wants to be known to be talking to her. When the woman telephones Sally, eager to discuss her perspective on the conflict, Sally finds an excuse to put her off. She is afraid that if she hears her friend’s position and is moved by it, she will be flung into an impossible conflict. She does not want to lose status with her other friends or with the chairwoman. So she does not return her friend’s phone calls. Inside her mind she begins to find more and more fault with her friend. Soon she is airing her own list of grievances, which she had never spoken of in the past. Her reward is the smile of approval on the chairwoman’s face and their subsequent increased intimacy. She is aware of the reward but not comparably
aware of its cost: diminished self-respect.

  Until his electronics company begins to suffer from foreign competition, Irving was always an advocate of free trade. He scorned businessmen who sought the aid of government to grant them special privileges, favors, or various forms of protection. “That’s not true capitalism,” he said, correctly. Now he is frightened; he knows his products are not as good as those of his foreign competitors, who keep bringing innovation after innovation into the marketplace. He engages a public relations firm to help him write speeches favoring government restrictions on imports that threaten him. He hires a firm in Washington to lobby for legislation that would protect him. When associates try to point out that protected industries have a history of remaining permanently weak, he brushes their observations aside. He does not want to think about that; consciousness in this area has become irritating. “This is different,” he asserts without explaining how or in what way. When he is told that people should be free to buy the best product available for the money, he answers righteously and irrelevantly, “Capitalism must be tempered by concern for the common good.” When he is challenged with the observation that he buys foreign goods when they are superior to domestic, he answers, “Don’t I have the right to get the best for my money?” When he is invited to give the commencement address at the university from which he graduated, he chooses as his theme “Living with Integrity.”