Mental illness convinces you that you are worthless and that this is a terrible thing. Self-help and (certain kinds of) therapy try to remedy this by claiming that every human has inherent worth. The therapeutic process is — at least in the context of self-esteem — a fight to regain what mental illness has robbed you of. But what if there was a third, better solution to the problem of self-worth?
Take little children. In their innocence and carefree attitude, do they even care about the concept of self-worth? I find that debatable. Of course, you could argue that they have a sort of latent feeling of positive self-esteem that they themselves are not aware of. In a way, this may well be the case: a child brought up in a safe, nurturing environment feels secure enough to be unashamedly themselves. However, I’d still argue that such a nurturing environment simply removes the need for self-worth to even be a consideration in the first place. A happy kid is free of the need to debate whether they are worth something. It is only when their parents or peers are abusive or hostile that self-esteem becomes an issue. Children have less conditioning than adults and have accrued fewer adverse life experiences to contend with. With the right tools, we can return to this joyous, childlike state of mind, or at least some version of it.
Many kinds of therapy and self-help urge you to consciously build up your self-esteem and reclaim it (through whatever means are deemed appropriate according to a particular therapeutic modality). It is essentially an artificial process. Which is fair enough. After all, as an adult you’re past the option of getting a nurturing set of parents and peers to set you on the right path. That ship has sailed. So the idea is basically that: 1. self-worth is everyone’s birthright (that mentally ill people temporarily lose sight of), and 2. you need the right coping mechanisms and constructive support to realise this and build yourself back up. Of course, it’s worth noting at this point that not all kinds of therapy are centred around the idea of self-esteem. Some approaches focus more on mindfulness and acceptance. But “being confident in yourself” and “valuing yourself” are a perennial part of our culture, making those ideas hard to ignore.
To recapitulate, mental illness convinces you that:
1. Self-worth is a real thing that’s important to have.
2. You don’t have it (or have negative self-worth).
3. You need to gain or improve it by whatever means necessary.
This often leads to obviously unhealthy behavioural strategies or a compulsive desire to prove yourself to others. It’s exhausting and ultimately fruitless. You soon realise that no matter what you do or how much you achieve, the feeling of satisfaction never lasts and, after a brief high, you’re back to square one.
On the other hand, self-esteem-centred therapy (and culture) tells you that:
1. Self-worth is a real thing that’s important to have.
2. You, and everyone else, possess it. It is an inalienable part of being a person. Mental illness has simply temporarily convinced you otherwise.
3. You can remedy your temporary self-esteem issue through constructive means, such as reframing your thought patterns and engaging in activities that you find inherently satisfying.
By now, you’ve probably spotted two commonalities between these two supposed opposites. Both assume that self-esteem is an actual thing, and that you can (re-)construct it by following the right course of action. My argument is that both of these approaches are misguided — the first one blatantly so, the second one in a more subtle, but no less pernicious, way.
As I said, the solutions that mental illness convinces you to adopt are obviously maladaptive, and you don’t need me to tell you that. But why doesn’t the therapeutic approach work, either? The reason for that is twofold. Firstly, it confidently makes two disputable assumptions (“self-esteem is a real thing” and “it’s important to possess high self-esteem”), which I’m hoping to cover in the second part of this article. Secondly, it doesn’t really solve the fundamental problem of human suffering. The relentless pursuit of self-esteem through supposedly healthy means is just another cage that keeps you addicted to validation. You might argue that cultivating unconditional self-esteem replaces external validation with internal validation — but that’s still validation. The dependency remains.
So here is the third approach I mentioned at the beginning — the cornerstone of an alternative solution:
You can move beyond the need for “self-esteem” altogether.
With your childhood behind you, you’re no longer capable of developing self-esteem the way it was originally supposed to happen. Luckily, as an adult you possess the necessary reasoning skills and self-awareness to try out this alternative approach. The steps to achieve this are listed below. Each of the following points really deserves an essay of its own. I’ve tried to be as concise as possible in talking about the key ideas.
1. Deconstruct the self
Earlier in the text I said that both of the misguided approaches assume that self-esteem is real. What I mean by “real” is ontological in nature, that is, self-esteem is seen as a construct that actually exists inside the mind. Self-esteem is the value of the self, positive or negative or neutral.
This begs the question: what is the self? The longer you think about it, the harder it gets to come up with a straightforward answer. In our daily life we take the notion of the self for granted, and it’s easy to see why. Firstly, it seems intuitive that we are an individual mind-body complex that is separate from others. Secondly, we’d find it next to impossible to function within the world if we didn’t operate on the assumption of being a singular, coherent entity. But we aren’t. To make a long story short, we are a collection of disparate elements that our mind organises into a functional gestalt. So in a way, the self does exist — it’s just not a single thing or an individual “essence”. It’s a multitudinous construct.
The complexity of the self conflicts with the very idea of self-esteem. Self-worth seems to be a global judgement of a person. In the depths of mental illness, we tend to judge ourselves as overall bad and worthless. Therapy urges us to appreciate the supposed inherent worth of all human beings. In both cases, this judgement is generalised. But how could it possibly be so? Without the existence of a unified human “essence” (or “soul”, for those of a more spiritual inclination), the very basis for such a judgement (whether positive or negative) falls apart. In other words: no self, no self-esteem.
2. Deconstruct your conditioning
Frustratingly, you can’t simply decide to disregard the idea of the self and be done with it once and for all. You’ve had years of biology, social influence, and your own brain telling you who you’re supposed to be. So what now? Once you’ve seen through the illusion of a solid, unified self, the logical next step is to start questioning all the other ideas you’ve been taking for granted. In the fight to dispel old, useless conditioning, the most important tool in your arsenal is a single word: why? Every opinion you hold, every action you take, every emotion you experience — all of that can be investigated using this question. The goal isn’t to perfectly understand everything you think, feel, or do, since that would be impossible. The goal is to distance yourself from whatever is happening within your field of consciousness and to give yourself a way to live with more awareness.
3. Learn the right view
Everything occurs in the mind, from the mind, through the mind. Meaning itself is an illusion — and that illusion is the soil where suffering takes root. The right view is the ability to assume an entirely objective perspective and impartially observe everything (and I do mean everything) that arises within consciousness. Once you stop identifying with your body-mind complex, it should get progressively easier to look at life from this viewpoint. And any time you lose your objective stance, simply remind yourself to return to it. It’s a numbers game: the more you return to the position of an observer, the weaker your self-identification will be. The weaker the self-identification, the less ground for suffering to appear.
4. Observe experience keenly
Armed with the right view and a healthy sense of distance, you’re ready to take the position of an impartial observer. Not in order to relinquish responsibility for your life. As long as you’re an embodied human being, you must make choices and do stuff. You’d have to be quite literally dead to be free from decision-making. But taking action doesn’t preclude the possibility of observation — you can be both a participant and an observer. So long as you’re an observer first and a participant second, you’ll be operating with the right view in mind and your capacity for suffering will be diminished. So whatever happens to come into your field of consciousness, look at it squarely and fearlessly. Avoiding or resisting your experience only lends power to your thoughts instead of revealing their true nature: illusory and insubstantial, and therefore incapable of moving the real you.
5. Engage with reality playfully
This approach frees you to be whatever circumstances require you to be. True, there is no longer any authentic “you”, but that’s not scary — it’s liberating. You may be facing a bit of a crisis at first: the freedom is as exhilarating as it is terrifying. But when you implement this philosophy properly, you realise that there are no stakes to the project of your life. Then you can just do whatever catches your fancy (and whatever your life’s situation allows). You’re free to pick your values and activities without becoming overly attached to them. You flow smoothly with life, with enough wisdom to influence what you can and let go of what you can’t. You are, simultaneously, an observer and a participant.
Every minute of every day is a chance to practice. You already have everything you need to put the old self-valuation games aside. Stop becoming and allow yourself to just be.