The Foundations of Personality by Abraham Myerson (color ebook reader .TXT) 📕

But the establishment of ideals for ourselves to which we are not

faithful brings with it a disgust and loathing for self that is

extremely painful and leads to a desire for penance of any kind

In order that we may punish ourselves and feel that we have made

amends. The capacity for self-hate and self-disgust depends

largely upon the development of these ideals and principles of

conscience, of expectation of the self. Frequently there is an

overrigidity, a ceaseless self-examination that now and then

produces miracles of character and achievement but more often

brings the breakdown of health. This is the seeker of perfection

in himself, who will not compromise with his instincts and his

human flesh. There seekers of perfection are among the noblest of

the race, admired in the abstract but condemned by their friends

as “too good,” “impractical,” as possessors of the “New England

conscience.” One of the effects of a Puritanical bringing-up is

a belief that pleasure is unworthy, especially in the sex field

and even in marriage. Now and then one meets a patient caught

between perfectly proper desire and an obsession that such

pleasure is debasing; and a feeling of self-disgust and

self-hatred results that is the more tragic since it is useless.

There are those in whom self-love and self-esteem is at a lower

pressure than with the average man, just as there are those in

whom it is at a much higher pressure. Such people, when fatigued

or when subject to the hostile or even non-friendly opinion of

others, become so-called self-conscious, i. e., are afflicted

with fear and a feeling of inferiority. This may deepen into

self-contempt and self-hatred. Part of what is called confidence

in oneself is self-esteem, and under fatigue, illness, after

punishment of a physical or mental nature, it is apt to

disappear. Very distressing is this in those who have been

accustomed to courage and self-confidence, perhaps whose

occupation makes these qualities necessary. Soldiers, after

gassing or cerebral concussion, men completely without

introspection, fearless and gay with assurance, become

apprehensive, self-analytical and without the least faith in

themselves, so that they approach their work in fear. So with men

who work in high places or where there is risk, such as

steeplejacks, bridge builders, iron workers, engineers; let an

accident happen to them, or let there occur an exhausting disease

with its aftermath of neurasthenia, and the self-esteem and

self-confidence disappear so that in many cases they have to give

up their job.

Because self-disgust and hatred are so painful, compensatory

“mechanisms” have been set up. There is in many people a tendency

to project outward the blame for those acts or thoughts which

they dislike. In the pathological field we get those delusions of

influence that are so common. Thus a patient will attribute his

obscene thoughts and words to a hypnotic effect of some person or

group of persons and saves his own face by the delusion. In

lesser pathological measure, men have fiercely preached against

the snares and wiles of women, refusing to recognize that the

turmoil of unwelcome desire into which they were thrown was

internal in the greater part of its origin and that the woman

often knew little or not at all of the effect she helped produce.

One of the outstanding features in the history of the race has

been this transfer of blame from the desire of men to the agent

which aroused them. Of course, women have played on the desires

of men, but even where this was true the blame for VULNERABILITY

has seldom been fully accepted. Whenever any one has been “weak”

or “foolish” or “sinful,” his mind at once seeks avenues of

escape from the blame, from the painful feeling of inferiority

and self-reproach. The avenue of escape selected may be to blame

others as tempting or not warning and not teaching, may become

entirely delusional, or it may take the religious form of

confession, expiation and repentance. There are some so hardy in

their self-esteem that they never suffer, never seek any escape

from self-reproach, largely because they never feel it; and

others, though they seek escape, are continually dragged by

conscience to self-imposed torture. Most of us seek explanations

for our unwelcome conduct on a plane most favorable to our

self-esteem, and there arises an elaborate system of

self-disguise, expiation, repentance and confession that is in a

large part the real inner life of most of us. To explain failure

especially are the avenues of escape utilized. Wounded in his

self-esteem, rare is the one who frankly acknowledges

inferiority. “Pull,” “favoritism,” “luck,” explain the success of

others as do the reverse circumstances explain our failures to

ourselves. Sickness explains it, and so the defeated search in

themselves for the explanation which will in part compensate

them. Escape from inferiority follows many avenues, —by actual

development of superiority, by denying real superiority to

others, or by explaining the inferiority on some acceptable

basis.

Here (as elsewhere in character) there is evident an organic and

a social basis for feeling. We have not emphasized sufficiently a

peculiarity of all human feeling, all emotions, all sentiments.

They have their value to the individual in organizing his

conduct, his standard of value. They are of enormous importance

socially. A great law of feeling of whatever kind, of whatever

elaboration, is this; it tends to spread from individual to

individual and excites whole groups to the same feeling; tender

feeling is contagious, and so is hate. We are somehow so made

that we reverberate at a friendly smile in one way and to the

snarl and stern look of hate in another way. Ordinarily love

awakens love and hate awakens hate, though it may bring fear or

contempt. It is true that we may feel so superior or cherish some

secret hate that will make another’s love odious to us, and also

we may admire and worship one who hates us. These are exceptional

cases and are examples of exceptional sentimental stability. It

is of course understood that by love is not meant sex passion.

Here the curious effect of coldness is sometimes to fan the flame

of passion. Desire obstructed often gains in violence, and the

desire to conquer and to possess the proud, that we all feel,

adds to the fire of lust.

Self-esteem, self-confidence, hateful to others if in excess or

if obtrusive, is an essential of the leader. His feeling is

extraordinarily contagious, and the morale of the group is in his

keeping. He must not show fear, or self-distrust or self-lowering

in any way. He must be deliberate, but forceful, vigorous,

masterful. If he has doubts, he must keep them to himself or

exhibit them only to one who loves him, who is not a mere

follower. It is a law of life that the herd follows the

unwounded, confident, egoistic leader and tears to pieces or

deserts the one who is wearying.

The basic sentiments of interest, love and hate, projected

outward or inward, organize personality. Men’s characters and

their destinies rest in the things they find interesting, the

persons they love and hate, their self-confidence and

self-esteem, their self-contempt and hatred. And it is true that

often we hate and love the same person or circumstance; we are

divided, secretly, in our tenderest feelings, in our fiercest

hate, more often, alas, in the former. For occasionally

admiration and respect will mitigate hate and render impotent our

aim, but more commonly we are jealous of or envy son, brother,

sister, husband, wife, father, mother and friend. We love our

work but hate its tyranny, and even the ideal that we cherish,

when we examine it too closely, seems overconventionalized, not

enough our own, and it stifles and martyrs too many unpleasant

desires. We rebel against our own affections, against the love

that chains us perhaps to weakness and forces us, weary, to the

wheel.

How deeply the feeling of “right” enters into the sentiments and

their labors needs only a little reflection to understand. Here

we come to the effect of the sentiment of duty, for as such it

may be discussed. The establishment of conscience as our inner

guide to conduct, and even to thought and emotions, has been

studied briefly. On a basis of innate capacity, conscience arises

from the teaching and traditions of the group (or groups). The

individual who has a susceptibility or a readiness to believe and

a desire to be in conformity accepts or evolves for himself

principles of conduct, based on obligation, expectation of reward

and fear of punishment, these entering in various proportions,

according to the type of person. In children, or the very young

child, expectation of reward and fear of punishment are more

important than obligation, and this remains true of many people

throughout life. Gradually right, what we call duty, becomes

established as a guiding principle; but it must struggle with

impulse and the desire for immediate pleasure throughout life. In

fact, one of the dangers of the development of the feeling of

duty lies in the view often held by those guided by principle and

duty that pleasure is in itself somehow wrong and needs

justification. Whereas, in my opinion, pleasure is right and

needs no justification and is wrong only when it offends the

fundamental moralities and purposes of Society.

The feeling of “right” depends to a certain extent on the kind of

teaching in early childhood, but more on the nature of the

individual. It is based on his social feeling, his desire to be

in harmony with a group or a God that essentially stands above

any group. For the idea of God introduces an element having more

authority than the group whom He leads. Here also is a factor of

importance: choice is difficult for the great majority. Placed in

a situation where more than one response is possible, an unhappy

state of bewilderment results unless there are formulae for

action. The leader is the chooser for the group; religion is an

established system of choices even in its “Thou shalt not”

injunctions, and to be at one with God implies that one is

following an infallible leader, and doubt and uncertainty

disappear. Trotter[1] points out clearly the role the feeling of

certitude plays in developing codes. As life becomes more

complex, as more choices appear, the need of an established

method of choosing becomes greater. The careful, cautious,

conscientious types develop a system of principles for choice of

action; they discard the uncertainty of pleasure as a guide for

the certainty of a code laid down and fixed. Duty is the north

star of conduct!

[1] “The Herd and its Instincts in Peace and War.”

In passing, an interesting development of our times is worth

noticing. The tendency is to discard established codes, to weaken

dogma and to throw more responsibility on the individual

conscience. That is the meaning of the Protestant reformation,

and it is the meaning of the growth of Unitarianism within the

Protestant church; it is also the meaning of the reform movement

in Judaism. The Catholic church has felt it in the breaking away

of state after state from its authority, which virtually means

that the states have thrown their citizens back on their own

consciences and the state laws. In fact, reliance on law is in

part an effort to escape the necessity of choosing. The pressure

of external authority has its burden, but in giving up its

certainty man also gives up tranquillity. Much of modern

neurasthenia is characterized by a feeling of uncertainty,

unreality, doubt: what is right, what is real? True, as religion

in the dogmatic sense relinquishes its power, ethics grow in

value and men seek some other formula which will compensate for

the dogma. It is no accident that as the old religions lose their

complete control new ones