Thoughts On “Thinking For Yourself”
Critics of personal development often assert that, rather than reading self-help books, we should "think for ourselves." In fact, many critics even fear that personal growth products are actually stripping people of their ability to think independently.
"The self-help tradition has always been covertly authoritarian and conformist," writes Wendy Kaminer in I'm Dysfunctional, You're Dysfunctional. "Merely buying a self-help book is an act of dependence." Similarly, literary critic Stewart Justman writes in Fool's Paradise: The Unreal World of Pop Psychology that the self-help "genre seems inherently authoritarian, implying as it does that we live and act according to sets of instructions."
These criticisms certainly make personal development sound unnervingly Orwellian. But do they make sense?
Is Advice Anti-Thinking?
It's true that many self-help books offer us advice on how to live our lives -- how to find inner peace, parent our children, and so on. But this alone can't be enough to strip us of intellectual independence. After all, books on origami, changing tires, investing in bonds, and so on also offer advice, but no one seems to be concerned that these books are "brainwashing" anyone.
Kaminer seems to recognize that the mere fact that self-help books give advice doesn't make them "totalitarian." Thus, she says she's not interested in critiquing "practical (how to do your own taxes) books." Instead, she is aiming at books with "a strong emphasis on individual, personal, or spiritual development." In other words, it's only people who give advice on personal or spiritual development who threaten the cognitive freedom of their listeners -- not those who tell you how to fix your car.
I think the trouble with this distinction is that it neglects the vast amount of advice on personal and spiritual development that writers outside the self-help genre offer. Philosophers, at least since ancient Greece and probably before, have wrestled with the question of how one ought to live. The world's religions also have pretty clear ideas about how we should develop spiritually. But I suspect Kaminer wouldn't claim that we shouldn't read books on philosophy or religion because they might control our minds.
Is Simplicity Sinister?
On some level, I think Kaminer is aware of this objection, and thus she tries to distinguish personal growth from philosophy and religion on the ground that self-help teachers' advice is overly simplistic. Personal growth books, she writes, encourage an intellectual "passivity and search for simple absolutes."
I actually agree that much personal growth advice is simplistic. I think the personal development blogosphere, for example, could stand to churn out fewer "50 Quick Happiness Tips"-style posts, and dive deeper into what really creates motivation and suffering in human beings.
However, the fact that some self-help advice may be simplistic doesn't necessarily render it sinister and manipulative, as Kaminer seems to believe. In other words, another person's mere act of offering you simple advice doesn't turn you into a mindless zombie under their command.
Suppose, for instance, you come to me with all kinds of concerns about your relationship, and I tell you that you should leave your partner. My recommendation in this example is certainly simple, and perhaps simplistic, because it doesn't address the underlying feelings and behaviors creating your relationship issues.
However, it would be absurd to claim that, merely by offering you simple advice, I've put you at risk of becoming my brainwashed slave -- just as it would be silly to argue that a book called "5 Simple Steps To Doing Your Taxes" threatens its readers' mental autonomy. You're free to accept or reject my advice -- or, at the very least, my advice won't make you any less free to do so than your current cognitive capacities allow. 
Sometimes Simple Is Superior
What's more, in some cases, simplicity is a virtue. The most complicated advice or viewpoint is not always the most helpful one. I think there are great social advantages, for example, in simple moral rules like "rape is wrong" that leave no room for exceptions. A society where people accept such a rule, I think you'd agree, is better off than one where the morality of raping someone depends on a nuanced cost-benefit analysis.
In other words, I think it's entirely possible to both "think for yourself" and read a book, or listen to someone, offering simple advice -- even if it's of the self-help stripe. What's more, the simplicity of a message alone doesn't rob it of merit.
The Responsibility Ethic, Part 3: Guilt And Morality
This post continues my discussion of what I've called the "responsibility ethic" in personal development -- the idea that it's best to see ourselves as responsible for our circumstances in life, as opposed to seeing our situation as the product of chance or forces beyond our control.
In my last post, I noted that many personal growth teachers who advocate the responsibility ethic draw a distinction between taking responsibility for our life situation and blaming ourselves for it. Taking responsibility is healthy, they say, but "beating yourself up" is not.
I also observed that critics of personal growth often object to this distinction, arguing that our tendency to "beat ourselves up" is actually what keeps us behaving morally. In other words, it's not enough just to know what's right and wrong. You won't act morally unless you fear that, if you don't, you'll be wracked with guilt. Thus, if human beings lost their capacity for self-blame, society would descend into violent anarchy.
A Brief Reality Check
First off, I think it's important to keep in mind that this argument is purely theoretical. I don't know of any critic who has presented solid evidence that personal growth teachings are actually turning people into violent psychopaths. Nobody has shown that, say, serial killers are statistically more likely to have read I'm OK, You're OK than the average person. What the critics claim is that if, hypothetically, people took the "responsibility vs. blame" distinction to its logical extent, people would stop behaving morally and we'd all be in trouble.
Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that the critics are right -- that if people fully accepted the idea that we shouldn't punish ourselves for the past, and they fully understood the logical implications of that idea, they'd start murdering and stealing with wild abandon. Even if this is true, that doesn't necessarily mean the responsibility vs. blame distinction is a menace to society. That would only be true if we had reason to believe that people, in practice, are taking, or will take, that distinction to its logical extent.
Is there reason to believe this? Like I said, there's no conclusive evidence one way or the other, but I think a few observations are worth making.
First, consider the audience. Admittedly, given the vastness of the personal growth field, it would be difficult to come up with a profile of the "average personal development consumer." But we do know that the majority of self-help book sales are made to women. I hope it isn't unforgivably sexist of me to point this out, but men commit most recorded violent crimes (and, in fact, most crimes of any stripe). Notably, in the U.S. in 2008, men committed 90% of murders where the killer's gender was known.
If personal growth teachings really do turn people into miscreants, shouldn't we expect to see more criminality among women, who are self-help books' biggest consumers? Or, to put the point differently, perhaps we can all rest easier knowing that women, who appear to have a lower propensity for violence, are largely the ones buying these books. But if there's ever an upsurge in male self-help book consumption, I guess, we'd all better stock up on ammo and canned goods and hunker down for the apocalypse.
Second, consider the teachings. As we saw, the critics' argument is that, if people took the responsibility vs. blame distinction to its logical extent, they would behave destructively. If this is so, personal growth teachers certainly aren't encouraging their audiences to make that logical leap. You know the typical goals of personal development: to help you make money, have fulfilling relationships, develop inner peace, and so on. We don't often see books, CDs or seminars about "Guilt-Free Murder," "Self-Esteem For Child Abusers," or "Loving Your Inner Car Thief."
I don't know for a fact, but I'll make the educated guess that consumers of self-development products and services, by and large, aren't even thinking about the abstract philosophical implications of the ideas they're learning. They have specific, practical objectives, and they're interested in personal growth only insofar as its perspectives and techniques help them get where they want to go.
Is Self-Blame Needed For Morality?
We've seen that, even if we assume in the abstract that letting go of self-blame means eliminating morality, it doesn't follow that personal growth teachers who talk about releasing guilt are, here in the real world, promoting immoral behavior. Now, let's return to the original question: if we lost our tendency to "beat ourselves up" over the past, would we lose any incentive to act morally? Would the proverbial dogs and cats start living together?
To some, it's obvious: a person who doesn't feel guilt (which, I think, is another term for self-blame) is, in psychological terms, a psychopath, and therefore a danger to society. As we saw earlier, Wendy Kaminer argues as much in I'm Dysfunctional, You're Dysfunctional, writing that "there's a name for people who lack guilt and shame: sociopaths." However, as philosopher Gilbert Harman points out, that's not what psychologists actually think. Psychologists see the lack of guilt feelings as only one of several defining characteristics of psychopaths -- the others include antisocial behaviors like killing or stealing, a lack of empathy, and so on.
In other words, the fact that someone is guilt-free doesn't necessarily make them a psychopath, just as the fact that my car has an engine doesn't necessarily make it a Lamborghini. For all the psychologists know, there may be many people out there who don't suffer over the past and nonetheless behave morally.
What's more, clearly the threat of self-punishment isn't the only reason people refrain from antisocial behavior. Many of us, I suspect, don't even form the desire to harm others in the first place. I don't know about you, but as I go through my day, I don't usually find myself thinking "you know, it'd be great fun to kill that person, but I'd just feel so guilty if I did." I also suspect that many of us abstain from hurting others because we care about them, and want to see them stay well. And, at the very least, surely the fear of getting caught and punished by others -- which is distinct from the fear of self-punishment -- deters some people from criminal activity.
My point is that I think there's reason to question the notion that, if people let go of their tendency to self-blame, widespread chaos would ensue. Hopefully, this will give some solace to people locked in a painful cycle of self-flagellation.
Next up: Is the responsibility ethic anti-compassion?
Other Posts In This Series:
The Responsibility Ethic, Part 1: Self-Blame
A common theme in personal development literature is that we should take responsibility for our circumstances in life. It's best for us, in other words, to see ourselves as in control of our situation, as opposed to believing that forces beyond our control create it. I'll call this idea the "responsibility ethic."
On the surface, this doesn't seem controversial. If I'm in debt, for instance, it won't do me any good to sit around blaming the stock market, my family, the current phase of the moon, or some other outside force. I have no reason to take steps to get out of debt unless I accept that my actions -- cutting my expenses, selling stuff I don't need, and so on -- can fix the situation.
Personal growth's critics, however, often argue that the responsibility ethic has unsavory consequences. A person who believes they control their lot in life, the critics say, will be prone to self-flagellation -- i.e., to beating themselves up. If they don't get the results they want, in whatever area of life they're trying to improve, they'll blame themselves.
Suppose, for example, that I do everything in my power to get out of debt -- I cut up my credit cards, sell unnecessary stuff, and work with a debt counselor -- and I still fail to reduce my debt by the desired amount. If I think I'm 100% in control of my situation, I'll see this failure as proof that I'm lazy or stupid, and suffer over it. As Steve Salerno writes in SHAM: How The Self-Help Movement Made America Helpless, "if you make people believe they have full control over their lives, and then their lives don't get better (or even get worse), how could that not throw their synapses into turmoil?"
Reasons To Doubt The "Self-Blame" Argument
In this series of posts, I want to examine this argument more deeply. First off, I'll talk about three reasons to question the assumption that the responsibility ethic promotes self-blame.
1. Psychological Research. Psychologists use the term "locus of control" to describe a person's beliefs about the degree to which they are responsible for their circumstances. The more I tend toward an "internal locus of control," the more I believe in my own power to direct my destiny. By contrast, the closer my beliefs are to an "external locus of control," the more I think I'm at the mercy of factors I can't influence.
For example, suppose I'm a student, and I'm about to take a test. If I have a strong internal locus of control, I'll believe that, if I work hard enough, I'll get a good grade. But if I have a strong external locus of control, I'll assume that studying will have little effect on how well I do, and the grade I get will be largely the result of luck. Not surprisingly, psychologists have found that students who tend toward an internal locus of control usually study harder.
The locus of control concept is relevant here, because psychological research has repeatedly found a relationship between people's locus of control and the likelihood that they will suffer from depression. People closer to an internal locus of control, as it turns out, are less prone to depression than people who tend toward an external locus of control.
In other words, people who see themselves as responsible for their circumstances in life are less likely to get depressed. In fact, it's those who see themselves as mere pawns of other people or forces who are more likely to have that problem. This makes sense, psychologists say, because of the feelings of helplessness and despair created by their perceived lack of control.
These findings don't mesh well with the critics' argument. If the critics are right, and people who see themselves as in charge of their lot in life are likely to beat themselves up, we should expect them to be more prone to depression than those who believe they're at the mercy of outside forces. But the exact opposite appears to be true, which casts doubt on the idea that the responsibility ethic is creating all this unnecessary suffering for people.
We Need More Evidence
I'm not claiming that this completely settles the issue. After all, if we really want to know whether personal growth's responsibility ethic is causing suffering, we need to study people who do some kind of personal development activity -- reading self-help books, going to transformational workshops, or something along those lines -- and ask whether that activity has any relationship to depression, problems with anger, and so on. And these, of course, would have to be books, workshops, and so forth that encouraged a sense of personal responsibility for one's situation.
Psychological researchers have only recently begun to look into the effect of personal development techniques (if we don't count psychotherapy) on mental health issues like anxiety and depression. There is no clear consensus yet: in one study of a wide range of self-help books, the vast majority of the readers surveyed reported "a significant improvement in their condition."
Another suggested that saying positive affirmations like "I love myself," while apparently helpful to some people, may actually cause people with low self-esteem to feel worse. There have also been many studies of the psychological effects of meditation, suggesting that meditation helps alleviate depression and other emotional problems.
However, as far as I'm aware, there is no concrete evidence that the responsibility ethic, whether presented through books, workshops, or some other medium, is doing all the psychological harm to people that the critics allege. Thus, the "self-blame" argument against the responsibility ethic isn't obviously correct or commonsensical at all.
In the interest of keeping these posts at least vaguely succinct, that's all I'll say for now. In my next post, I'll discuss my second reason to question the self-blame argument, and also discuss why, even if the argument is correct, it doesn't follow that we should reject the responsibility ethic.
Other Posts In This Series:
E-Book: Why Growth Is Good
Most Popular Posts
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Thoughts on the Mankind Project Lawsuit
Personal Development Politics, Part 2: The Elections and Self-Responsibility
Regulating Self-Help, Part 2: What Is a Benefit?
Rainbow Right-Wingers, and Other Myths About Personal Development Politics
Authenticity Answers, Part 1: How Deep Is Your Want?
