Need to know
Of the seven deadly sins, pride is in many ways the most nefarious. In excess, it overshadows and engulfs the virtues of philosophy – self-reflection, critical thinking, consideration for the broader community, and the sense of one’s finitude and fallibility. And yet there are also good reasons to feel more pride – it’s positively correlated with life satisfaction and happiness, and negatively correlated with depression and anxiety.
Imagine a world wherein Albert Einstein wasn’t proud, where his theories appeared to him to have been created in vain. Without pride in his accomplishments, would he have had the motivation to persevere to achieve more? Discovery and creation are only one side of the proverbial coin of success; you have to believe that you’ve achieved it, too. In this Guide, I’ll show you why you shouldn’t fear pride, and provide you with tools to feel it more often.
Pride is distinct from self-esteem
This isn’t a Guide to feeling generally better about yourself, which is self-esteem. Pride can be thought of more narrowly, as the joy one feels due to a personal or collective achievement. You can be proud of yourself or your team for winning a game and, if you identify with a team or a country that you aren’t a part of per se, you can feel vicarious pride through that team’s or country’s achievements. Self-esteem, on the other hand, represents the general assessment of oneself.
Of course, pride and self-esteem are closely related. Some of us live and die with each accomplishment and failure, causing striking fluctuations in self-esteem. Consider bipolar disorder, previously known as manic-depressive disorder, in which periods of chronic low mood are interspersed with phases of intense energy. Patients with this diagnosis present with a particularly unstable sense of self. For them, a mundane win can prompt feelings of being amazing, while an ordinary loss can provoke a devastating sense of being terrible, triggering a manic or depressive episode, respectively.
However, most individuals cultivate a sense of self-regard by tallying up their proverbial wins and losses. For example, I might take pride in playing well in one basketball game; then, if I play consistently well, I will likely come to infer that I’m a good basketball player, thus fuelling my self-esteem. In essence, one can’t experience a high degree of self-esteem without first experiencing momentary pride.
Why pride is often seen unfairly as a sin or narcissistic
Culturally, the notions of pride and self-esteem are often conflated with the self-esteem movement of the 1980s and ’90s led by the Californian politician and amateur psychologist John Vasconcellos. Considered a colossal failure, the self-esteem craze of that era sparked seminars, books and programmes. According to the US journalist Jesse Singal writing in The Cut magazine in 2017: ‘The excitement was fuelled by a steady drumbeat of “research” purporting to confirm Vasconcellos’s theory that [low] self-esteem lay at the heart of many personal and societal difficulties, much of which was fairly anecdotal or otherwise low quality.’ Unfortunately, in trying to convince every kid that they were special, we managed to create a culture in which no one was. Psychologists including Roy Baumeister pointed out that the self-esteem movement likely had things backwards – it’s not that artificially induced high self-esteem is a panacea, but rather, as Singal wrote, ‘that people who are more talented or smart or successful have higher self-esteem because of their positive attributes and accomplishments.’
In short, authentic self-esteem is based on real qualities and a fair assessment of one’s strengths, weaknesses and achievements. Unfortunately, in bypassing reality, the self-esteem movement lost its credibility and, ultimately, its influence.
When considering pride, many of my clients jump to the conclusion that it must be narcissistic. Fearing hubris and an overestimation of their abilities, they simply abstain from it. To feel proud is to be self-important or worse, they fear. Especially if you’re a Christian, pride implies a sinful character. If you scroll through any of your social media feeds, you’ll likely discover a tonne of self-promotion, and you too might consider it narcissistic.
However, pathological narcissism (the formal psychiatric diagnosis is narcissistic personality disorder) isn’t the same as being prideful. Narcissism is related to an exaggerated sense of self-importance. For example, narcissism isn’t feeling proud of yourself for getting an A on an exam; it’s feeling proud of yourself for supposedly being the smartest person in any room where you happen to be. But you can feel proud of an achievement without overgeneralising your value. For example, although you might know that you excel in your mathematics class, you’re aware of your struggles in English. Excessive pride can be labelled narcissistic; but the variety of pride in which one also considers her limitations is anything but pathological. The fear of pride snowballing into narcissism becomes less frightening when pride is conceived of as manageable.
The US psychologists Jessica Tracy, Richard Robins and their colleagues further distinguish between ‘authentic pride’, which is grounded in specific things you’ve achieved through effort, and ‘hubristic pride’, which relates to a more general grandiose self-assessment. Similar to the individual with bipolar disorder, whose self-estimation turns with each attempt and result, Tracy and Robins argue that hubristic pride is a form of over-generalisation, wherein narrow pride leaps to a grandiose plateau. Instead of perceiving himself as a good basketball player, he might conceive of himself as the greatest of all. Often when people think of pride as unhelpful, it is this hubristic variety that they have in mind.
Pride is important to mental wellbeing
What if, in smaller doses, pride – specifically the authentic variety – is not only good but also necessary? What if, without it, we cease to care about ourselves? Pride is the joy of knowing that you have accomplished something you consider significant, usually because it’s also significant to the broader community, but not necessarily. Pride can be found in the student who improved her grade in maths class, the mother who calms her colicky child, or the football player whose team wins the Super Bowl. Pride is in the ordinary and the extraordinary. Most importantly, pride helps form the foundation of mental health. People tend to imagine a life with too much pride, but fail to consider a life without it.
When I was an undergraduate student, I took an unforgettable course in ancient philosophy. During a lecture on hubris, our professor, who was highly accomplished in the field, told the class that pride resulted from an error in reasoning. According to him, pride meant satisfaction and, thus, complacency. If you were to allow yourself to feel proud, you might as well kiss your future accomplishments goodbye. Holding on to this seeming jewel, I spent years suffocating pride. I would recall my professor’s prescription each time I felt even a sliver of joy. And I’d remind myself of the plethora of achievements that towered over mine. Pride devolved into self-censure, and self-censure into depression.
Indeed, an inability to feel proud of oneself is linked with several clinical disorders. Major depressive disorder entails a sense of emptiness and an inability to feel joy in any particular accomplishment. People with borderline personality disorder (which involves black-and-white thinking, an unstable sense of identity, and chronic problems with emotional regulation) will typically perceive themselves as wholly bad and worthless – they will tend to explain away their achievements, either negating them altogether or attributing them solely to circumstance. And obsessive compulsive disorder is characterised by self-doubt, which one can imagine debilitates the ability to feel pride.
Conversely, allowing yourself to feel pride boosts self-esteem, motivation and hopefulness. All three are crucial to one’s will to live, providing, in part, the ‘whys’ that help us carry the burdens of our suffering. When we feel proud of an achievement, we subsequently form a desire to recapture it. Additionally, pride can help us create personal ladders of success, so when you achieve anything of significance, such as writing an article, you can now consider trying a more challenging endeavour, such as writing a chapter in a book. Finally, a sense of pride provides us with self-efficacy, or the sense of our own abilities. It is only by recognising that your prior achievements matter that you can feel able to tackle future problems.
The clients I treat who struggle with self-esteem and an aversion to pride consistently disqualify their positives so, when they’re expected to perform on an exam or present in class, they consistently shirk from the test. When I encourage them to challenge the reasons why they prohibit themselves from feeling pride, I’ve seen how they slowly begin to see new tests and hurdles as more manageable and surmountable than before.
In the following section, I will help you explore your personal barriers to pride, and give you tools to help you feel it and benefit from it more often.