The Foundations of Personality - Abraham Myerson (best large ereader .txt) 📗

and courtesy are really standardized methods of behavior,

which are to adjust us in a pleasing way to our superiors, equals

and inferiors, and to the various conventional situations of

life. Naturally these will vary greatly in different ages and

different countries. A democracy acknowledging in theory no

superiors will insist that every man be called “sir” and every

woman “madam,” whereas an aristocracy laughs at that. In reality

there is no democracy anywhere, and so we address differently the

woman of the mansion and the woman of the hovel, The mistress of

the house calls her maid by her first name but would wonder what

the world is coming to if the maid became as familiar. In a

limited sense, manners and courtesy are conventional ways of

doing things, as the way of living, the tipping of the hat, the

form of greetings, the way of eating, but these conventions have

great value to the majority of people as evidencing breeding and

training or the lack (superiority or inferiority), and also as

removing doubt and choice, so that things run smoothly and

without contradiction. In a more noble sense, manners and

courtesy prescribe conduct in order to proscribe offense to the

self-valuation of others. Convention says, “Address people as if

they were your equals at least; don’t contradict brusquely

because that implies their inferiority or stupidity; avoid too

controversial topics since bitterness and humiliation may thus

arise; do not notice defects or disabilities for the same reason;

do not brag or be too conspicuous, since to boast of superiority

is to imply the inferiority of others, and they will dislike

you,” etc. We tend to dislike and hate those who make us feel

inferior, except under those special circumstances where

sex-love, awe and admiration enter to make a certain inferiority

desirable or befitting. So a large part of manners and courtesy

concern themselves with the formulae of conduct which avoid this

result to others, and we are also enjoined to conduct ourselves

so that others will not regard us as inferior. We speak of a man

as a “low person” if he eats with his knife, and very few things

so humiliate us as the knowledge that we have behaved in an

unmannerly way. One of the great purposes, then, is to be

conventional, to behave, dress and “look” according to an

accepted standard, one that is laid down for age, sex and social

station. There are people to whom convention is truly almost

holy, and true to our principle of variability, there are others

who hate convention.

 

Because many writers have shot shafts of satire and ridicule at

convention and custom, and because of the enormous reading

public, the artificial nature of convention has been emphasized

to that large part of the community that desires to be different

merely for the sake of being different, and there is built up a

conventional unconventionality. It has become the mark of the

artist, the great in spirit, to be unconventional (at least in

novels), and so there are a hundred “unconventional” poseurs to

one genuinely free in spirit. Anything that becomes a dogma or a

cult is not unconventional, for it is the standard or the custom

of a group. Most Bohemians, so-called, are poseurs and

conventionalized to their marrow. And most of the really

unconventional are “freaks,” “odd sticks” whose grotesque

individualities cannot conform. But in the mass of the

unconventional one finds here and there, like nuggets of gold in

sand, the true reformers of the world.

 

The “poseurs” in custom have their analogies in the pompous,

over-dignified and over-important; the affected, in a word.

Affectation is felt to be a disharmony between the pose and the

inner values or an attempt to win superiority or “difference” of

a superior kind by acting. In either case it excites ridicule,

hatred or disgust, and shafts at it form part of the stock in

trade of the satirist, humorist and indeed every portrayer of

life. What men demand of each other is sincerity, and even where

the insincerity is merely a habitual pose it arouses hostile

feeling which expresses itself all the way from criticism to the

overt act.

 

Since to feel superior is so highly prized in social

relationships of all kinds, part of the technique of those

seeking some advantage or other—economic, social, personal—from

those who must be influenced is to give them the feeling of

superiority. Flattery, cajolement, humble supplication and the

finer maneuvers of tact, all have this in mind. These however are

palatable to the intelligent only when felt to be sincere and

when emanating from some one more or less esteemed, though there

are plenty who “fall” for the grossest flattery from almost any

one, whose ego feeling is easily inflated with a corresponding

shrinking in judgment and common sense. In the relations of men

and women, flattery in one shape or another plays an enormous

role —from the effect on women of the statement or implication

in a subtle or gross way that they are charming, and the effect

on men of acknowledged superiority in strength courage or

intelligence. Of course, in both cases the effect is partly in

the physical attractiveness of the flatterer and tends to become

ridiculous when he or she is without charm. The simpering

language that is irresistible when uttered by a starry-eyed maid

of eighteen loses somewhat in beauty and effect when emanating

from the lips of bespectacled forty. The power to use and the

power to resist flattery in any of its forms have played almost

as great a role in the history of the race as strength, beauty or

intelligence.

 

It would be futile to elaborate in detail the various ways of

seeking superiority or resisting inferiority. Two directions of

this impulse need some attention, as they lead to personality

traits of great importance. “Having one’s way” becomes a dominant

desire with many people, and much of the clashing that occurs in

families, organizations and the council chambers of nations

arises from a childish, egoistic seeking of superiority. People

enter into the most heated and sterile arguments, often coming to

blows, if the course of conduct they desire to have followed is

modified or blocked. Even when secretly convinced that they are

wrong, husbands and wives will continue to insist on victory, for

too often the domestic relationship is a struggle for leadership

and dominance rather than a partnership and a conference. Two

heads are better than one when the intelligence within the heads

is of good grade and when the desire for superiority does not

take trivial directions. And the effect of yielding to the whims

of children is to develop an irritable, domineering egoism bent

on having its own way, resisting reasonable compromise or

correction. The greatest benefit of discipline and above all of

contact with equals to a child is in the effect on this phase of

egoism, i. e., that cooperation means compromise; to be

reasonable implies listening with respect to others’ plans and to

accept better ways of doing things, even if they have originated

with others; in other ways the subordinating of trivial egoism.

The large families of other days offered the conflict of wills

and its consequent lesson within the home; to-day the solitary

child, or the one whose brother or sister is three, four or five

years younger or older must go into the streets to obtain this

discipline or else go without. The indulged have this form of

inferior egoism more than do those who have been roughly handled,

and so it is more common in women of the better-to-do classes and

in men who have always exercised authority. It is of course found

in what is known as the stubborn person, —he whose will is law

to himself and who seeks to make it law to others. Ordinarily the

stubborn person is merely a nuisance, but also, if he couples

that stubbornness with intelligence and some especial ability, he

may reach great heights, though he is seldom popular.

 

A sub-form of having one’s own way is the adherence to one’s own

“opinion.” The clash of opinions is in its noblest aspect the

basis of knowledge; the correction of opinion that results when

man meets man is the growth of tolerance and urbanity. Wide

reading, travel and experience teach us that our opinions can

never be absolutely right, and we grow to look upon them in a

detached sort of way. In fact, the prime result of the growth of

intelligence and of experience is to make one, as it were,

objective toward oneself, to view one’s own thoughts, beliefs and

emotions with some humor and skepticism. But the uncultured, the

narrow, the inexperienced, the young and the strongly egotistic

never detach themselves from their opinions, and their opinions

are themselves. Attack an opinion, contradict or amend it,—and a

sort of fighting spirit is aroused. Argument differs from

discussion in that it seeks all means to win—ridicule,

sophistry, and personal attack —and it is by far the more

common. There was a time when opinion was entirely enslaved, when

only the ruler might venture on a new belief or its expression;

then there came a time when the right to freedom of opinion and

its expression was conceded, and now, with huge forces

confronting one another, freedom of opinion[1] is again

threatened. But that is an issue larger than our subject.

 

[1] The most profound contribution to the subject of discussion

and freedom of opinion in recent years has been written by Walter

Lippman in the Atlantic Monthly, September, 1920.

 

You may judge a man by his type of argument and his reaction to

the opinions of others. One should hold to his own beliefs and

opinions, but only if they withstand the assaults of reason. To

build ego feeling into opinions is to make ignorance sacred. For

most of us there are certain opinions that we will not tolerate,

and there are others to which we are indifferent. There are those

who feel it incumbent on themselves to contradict any opinion,

even if they agree fundamentally with it. The mere fact that some

one else gave it utterance arouses a sort of jealousy. Then there

are others who will not permit any opinion of their own to be

discussed, to whom it is a personal affront to do this. What we

call urbanity is tolerance of other opinions; what we call

reasonableness is the willingness to change opinions if

convinced. What we call vacillation is to have no fixed opinion,

to be influenced at once by the opinions of others. The pleasure

sought in argument is a victory for our opinions and thus for

ourselves.

 

Here Montaigne’s wisdom aptly expresses itself: “We deride

ourselves a hundred times when we mock our neighbor.” He is

stubborn and unreasonable who does not agree with us. “Be

reasonable,” cry the unreasonable as they argue. “How stubborn

and pigheaded you are,” say those inaccessible to reason. The

difficulty in reaching a true estimate of the world, ourselves

and our neighbors lies in the egoism which permeates our beliefs

and opinions.

 

A second direction of the impulse to superiority is personal

beauty. Not only does the young girl (or any other, male or

female) dress and adorn herself to attract those whose good

opinion she seeks, but also she seeks superiority over her

competitors. Her own self-valuation increases with the

admiration of some and the discomfiture of others. To be

beautiful, attractive or pretty becomes thus a goal to many aims

of the personality; it offers a route to success in obtaining

power, riches, etc.; it yields the longed-for admiration, and it

gives the satisfaction of superiority. It rarely has in it any

ideal of service or of help, though beauty in the abstract is an

ideal of high value. To desire to be beautiful physically as a

leading aim