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

class="calibre1">fellow men is to increase cynicism and pessimism. They who have

suffered through the schemer grow to suspect their fellows under

any guise. They become suspicious and hard, determined never to

trust any one again. Indeed, practical wisdom to a large extent

is the wisdom of strategy and is full of mottoes and proverbs

inculcating non-generous ideals. When people have been “fooled”

or misled, the most valuable of the social cementing qualities,

faith in one’s fellows, is weakened. Despite the disintegrating

effect of unscrupulous shrewdness, it is common enough to hear

men say of a successful votary of the art, “Well, I give him

credit. He is a very clever fellow, and he has brought home the

bacon.” Success is so highly prized and admired that the means of

obtaining it becomes secondary in the eyes of the majority.

 

3. The role of speech in the relationships of human beings is of

course too great to be overestimated. Speech becomes the prime

weapon in swaying and molding the opinions and acts of others. It

is the medium of the threat of force and the stratagem of

cunning, but also it enters human life as the medium of

persuasion and conviction. The speech ability, the capacity to

use words in attaining purpose, shows as striking variations as

any other capacity.

 

Though a function of intelligence, the power to speak (and write)

convincingly and easily, is not at all related to other phases of

intelligence. Though it can be cultivated, good verbalism is an

innate ability, and a most valuable one. The power to speak

clearly so as to express what is on one’s own mind is uncommon,

as any one can testify who has watched people struggling to

express themselves. “You know” is a very frequent phrase in the

conversation of the average man, and he means that, “My words are

inadequate, but you know what I mean.” The delight in the good

writer or speaker is that he relieves other people’s

dissatisfaction in their own inadequate expression by saying what

they yearn to say for themselves, thus giving them a vicarious

achievement.

 

But the power of clear expression is not at all the power of

persuasion, although it may be a part of it. One may clearly

express himself and antagonize others. The persuader seeks to

discover the obstacles to agreement with him in the minds of

others and to remove or nullify them. He may seek to do this by a

clear exposition of his wishes and desires, by showing how these

will benefit the others (or at least not harm them), by meeting

logically or otherwise the objections and demonstrating their

futility. This he will attempt, if he is wise and practical, only

in a limited group or among those who are keen-minded and open to

reason. Even with them he will have to kindle and maintain their

interest, and he must arouse a favorable emotional state.

 

This latter is the principal goal in persuasion. Every good

speaker or writer who seeks to reach the mass of people needs the

effect of the great feelings—of patriotism, sympathy and

humor—needs flattery, gross or subtle, makes people laugh or

smile or feel kindly disposed to him before he attempts to get

their cooperation. He must place himself on their level, be

regarded as one of them; fellowship and the cooperative

tendencies must be awakened before logic will have value.

 

The persuader cuts his cloth to suit his case. He is a

psychologist of the intuitive type. He may thunder and scold if

he finds in his audience, whether numbering one or a million, a

tendency to yield to authority, and he then poses as that

authority, handing out his dicta in an awe-inspiring fashion. He

will awaken the latent trend to ridicule and scoffing by pointing

out inconsistency in others, or he may awaken admiration for his

fairness and justice by lauding his opponent, taking care not to

overdo it.

 

Persuasion is often a part of scheming, rarely is it used by the

forceful, except in the authoritative way or to arouse anger

against the opponent. It is the weapon of those who believe in

democracy, for all exposition has persuasion as its motive. A

statement must not only be true to others,—to the mass.

Therefore persuasion as applied to the great mass of people is

rarely closely knit or a fine exposition of truth and historical

evolution; that one must leave for the highbrow book or treatise.

It is passionate and pleading; it thunders and storms; it has wit

and humor; it deals with symbols and analogies, it plays on the

words of truth, justice, ideals, patriotism. It may be honest and

truthful, but it cannot be really accurate or of high

intellectual value.

 

And the persuasion that seeks private ends from private audiences

“sizes” up its audience as a preliminary. The capacity to

understand others and to sway them, to impress them according to

their make-up, is a trait of great importance for success or

failure. It needs cultivation, but often it depends on a native

sociability, a friendliness and genuine interest, on a “good

nature” that is what it literally purports to be,—good nature.

Though many of the persuasive kind are insincere and selfish, I

believe that on the whole the taciturn and gruff are less

interested in their fellows than the talkative and cordial.

 

The persuasive person has a touch of the fighting spirit in the

trait called aggressiveness. He is rarely shy or retiring. To do

well, he must be prepared for rebuffs, and he is possessed of a

species of courage and resistance against refusal and

humiliation. In the highest form the persuader is a teacher and

propagandist, changing the policy of peoples; in the commonest

form he is a salesman, seeking to sell a commodity; in the lowest

he is the faker, trying to hoodwink the credulous.

 

4. The strong, the crafty, the talkers each seek fulfillment of

purpose from an equal or higher level than their fellows. But

power and fulfillment may be reached at from a lower level, from

the beggar’s position, from the place of weakness. There are some

whose existence depends upon the response given to their

supplications, who throw themselves directly on the charity and

tender-heartedness of society. Inefficient, incapable of separate

existence, this parasitic class is known to every social service

group, to every rich or powerful man who helps at least in part

to maintain them. I do not mean those who are physically or

intellectually unable to cope with the world; these are merely

unfortunate. I mean those whose energy and confidence is so low,

or whose lack of pride is such that they are willing to ask for

help continually rather than make their own way.

 

There is, however, a very interesting type of person who uses

weakness as a weapon to gain a purpose, not support. The tears of

many women have long been recognized as potent in that warfare

that goes on between the sexes; the melting of opposition to the

whim or wish when this manifestation of weakness is used is an

old story. The emotional display renders the man uncomfortable,

it disturbs him, he fears to increase it lest the opponent become

sick, his conscience reproaches him, and he yields rather than

“make a fuss.” Tears can be replaced by symptoms of a hysteric

nature. I do not mean that these symptoms are caused by the

effort to win, but they become useful and are made habitual. Nor

is this found only in woman; after an accident there are men in

plenty whose symptoms play a role in securing compensation for

themselves, not necessarily as malingerers. It is in human nature

to desire the sympathy of others, and in some cases this sympathy

is sought because through sympathy some other good will be

forthcoming,—a new dress, a lump sum of money, or merely

securing one’s own way. Very noticeably do children tend to

injure themselves if crossed; anger tends to turn on itself, and

the effect on the other party is soon realized, and often

utilized. A child may strike its head against the floor without

any other motive than that arising from hopeless anger, but if

this brings the parents to their knees,[1] the association is

made and the experience becomes part of the working technique of

the child.

 

[1] This turning of anger upon itself is a factor in

self-destruction. It is seen, so the naturalists say, in the

snake and the asp, and it is common in human relations.

 

5. There is in man an urge to activity independent of reward save

in the satisfaction that comes from that activity. This current

is organized into work, and the goal becomes achievement. The

most powerful factor in discharging the energies of man is the

desire for achievement. Wealth, superiority, power, philanthropy,

renown, safety and pleasure enormously reinforce this purpose,

but behind the GOOD work of the world is the passion to create,

to make something, to mold the resisting forces of nature into

usefulness and beauty. Handicraftsman, artist, farmer, miner,

housewife, writer,—all labor contradicts the legend that work

is a curse. To gain by work, to obtain desires through labor, is

a method of attainment that is a natural ideal of man.

 

This makes opportune a discussion of the work-traits. Since ours

is an industrial society, in which the work of a member is his

means of obtaining not only respect, but a living, these traits

are largely those by which he is judged and by which he judges

himself.

 

Since work for some is their life and for others their means of

obtaining a living, it is obvious that the work-traits may be

all the traits of the individual, or only a few of them. Certain

traits are especially important, and to these we must limit

ourselves.

 

The energy of the individual. Some are so constituted that they

can constantly discharge their energy at a high rate. These are

the dynamics, the hyperkinetic, the Rooseveltian—strenuous—the

busy people, always able to do more. The modern American life

holds this type as an ideal, though it is quite questionable

whether these rather over-busy people do not lose in reflective

and creative ability. The rushing stream turns the wheels of the

mills, but it is too strenuous for stately ships. This type

however achieves things, is seen often in the fine executive and

usually needs no urging.

 

There is another fine type not so well adapted to our

civilization, which is easily exhausted, but can accomplish very

much in a short time; in other words discharges energy

intermittently at a high rate. Charles Darwin was of this

kind—intermittently hyperkinetic —obliged to rest after an

hour’s labor, but by understanding this, WILLING to rest.

Unfortunately, unless one is a genius or rich, industry does not

make allowances for this type. Industry is organized on

steadiness of energy discharge,—eight hours every day, six days

a week.

 

The commonest type is the “average” person who is capable of

moderately intense but constant activity. This is the steady man

and woman; it is upon this steadiness that the whole

factory—shop system—is based. That this steadiness deadens,

injures vivacity and makes for restlessness, is another matter.

 

A distinctly pathological type is found in some feebleminded and

some high mentalities. This unfortunate discharges energy at a

low rate is slow in action and often intermittent as well as

hypokinetic. The loafer and the tramp are of this type. Around

the water front of the seaports one can find the finest specimens

who do odd jobs for as much as will pay for lodging and food and

drink. Perhaps the order of the desired rewards should be

reversed. Every village furnishes individuals of this group,

either unable or unwilling to work consecutively or with energy.

Often purposeless daydreamers or