Is our inner nature good?

Abraham Maslow suggested that humans have an inner nature or core which is good. According to Maslow this inner core is “potentiality, but not final actualization”. He argued that in principle our inner core can easily self-actualize, but this rarely happens in practice due to the many human diminution forces including fear of self-actualization and the limiting belief in society that human nature is evil (“Toward a Psychology of Being”, 1968, chapter 14).

The view that humans have inherent potentialities that are good has a long history. For example, Aristotle argued that humans have inherent potentialities that it is in their nature to develop. He suggests, however, that for most people the virtues remain undeveloped unless they are actively cultivated:

“Now some think that we are made good by nature, others by habituation, others by teaching. Nature's part evidently does not depend on us, but as a result of some divine causes is present in those who are truly fortunate; while argument and teaching, we may suspect, are not powerful with all men, but the soul of the student must first have been cultivated by means of habits for noble joy and noble hatred, like earth which is to nourish the seed” (“Nicomachean Ethics”, Book x: 9).

J.S. Mill made it clear that he didn’t think there was more than a mere germ of good in human nature:

“Allowing everything to be an instinct which anybody has ever asserted to be one, it remains true that nearly every respectable attribute of humanity is the result not of instinct, but of a victory over instinct; and that there is hardly anything valuable in the natural man except capacities - a whole world of possibilities, all of them dependent upon eminently artificial discipline for being realised” (“On Nature”, 1874).

Over a century before, David Hume presented a much more positive view of the relationship between morality and the inner nature of humans:

“Take any action allowed to be vicious: Wilful murder, for instance. Examine it in all lights, and see if you can find that matter of fact, or real existence, which you call vice. In which-ever way you take it, you find only certain passions, motives, volitions and thoughts. There is no other matter of fact in the case. The vice entirely escapes you, as long as you consider the object. You never can find it, till you turn your reflection into your own breast, and find a sentiment of disapprobation, which arises in you, towards this action. Here is a matter of fact; but it is the object of feeling, not of reason. It lies in yourself, not in the object. So that when you pronounce any action or character to be vicious, you mean nothing, but that from the constitution of your nature you have a feeling or sentiment of blame from the contemplation of it”. (“A Treatise of Human Nature”, 1739, III, I, i).

Hume’s view of the matter has received a considerable amount of support in recent years from psychological research (e.g. observing affective reactions to stories involving harmless taboo violations even though people had difficulty defending their moral judgments), neuroscientific evidence of emotional involvement in moral judgments, and studies that suggest that non-human primates and human have some similar moral instincts.

This evidence supports the social intuitionist view of Jonathan Haidt and Fredrik Bjorklund that moral beliefs and motivations come from a small set of intuitions that evolution has prepared the human brain to develop and that these intuitions then enable and constrain the social construction of virtues and values. This means that children have a preparedness to acquire certain kinds of moral knowledge and a resistance to acquiring other kinds (here).

Our instinctive morals don’t necessarily provide us with good guidance about how to behave towards strangers in the modern world because they evolved to protect self, kin and clan rather than to enable us to obtain the benefits of specialization and trade. I have previously suggested, following Hayek’s view, that our instinctive morals often cause people to argue for government intervention that gets in the way of the mutually beneficial exchanges among strangers that are necessary for human flourishing (here).

Nevertheless, Mill went much too far in asserting that nearly every respectable attribute of humanity is the result of victory over instinct. It seems to me that Maslow was much closer to the truth in asserting that the inner nature of humans is good.

Is there a positive intention behind every behaviour?

I hope that by the time I finish writing this piece I will have made up my mind whether I think there is a positive intention behind every behaviour. I can accept that the ultimate end of human action is nearly always the satisfaction of some desire of the acting person, but it seems to me that lurking behind some behaviours – for example, some self-destructive behaviours – there is probably a physiological problem of some kind rather than a positive intention.

Before going further I should acknowledge that the intention of NLP practitioners in suggesting that there is a positive intention behind every behaviour is to get people to “try on” this proposition to see whether it is a helpful way of thinking and perceiving. If a person can find a positive intention behind some unwanted behaviour (e.g. a phobia or an addiction) this might set them free to resolve the problem that they are experiencing.

Robert Dilts argues that the proposition that there is a positive intention behind every behaviour is an epistemological presupposition (here). What he means by this is that it has an epistemological status like that of the fundamental concepts of Euclidian geometry – it can’t be proved or disproved. He demonstrates that it is an implication of two fundamental epistemological presuppositions: “the map is not the territory” (human perceptions of reality are not reality); and “life and mind are systemic processes” (they are based on self-organizing principles and naturally seek optimal states of balance or homeostasis. These presuppositions imply that:
“People make the best choices available to them given the possibilities and capabilities that they perceive to be accessible within their model of the world. Any behavior no matter how evil, crazy or bizarre it seems is the best choice available to that person at that point in time” (here).

I have no problem in accepting Dilts’ interpretation of the idea that there is “a positive intention behind every behaviour”. It seems to allow that a person could be making the best choices available even if they display bizarre behaviour that is ultimately attributable to physiological rather psychological causes. An example that comes to mind is Antonio Damasio’s discussion of Phineas Gage, who suffered an horrific brain injury in 1848. Prior to this injury, Gage had a strong sense of personal and social responsibility, but afterwards he no longer showed respect for social convention or concern about his own future (“Descartes Error”, 1994: 10 – 12).

It seems to me that there is a lot to be said for considering what lies behind choices that result in unwanted behaviours. It makes sense that the possibilities and capabilities that people perceive to be accessible are often distorted by hidden frames of meaning about themselves, their personal powers, their relationships with others, time (their past performance and expectations) or about the way the world works.

When I began writing this piece I thought I might end up considering the question of whether the inner nature or core of humans is good. By following Dilts’ approach I avoided this, even though I think our answers to this question are an important component of the models of the world that we carry around with us. I will consider different views on this question in my next post.

Should the virtues be revered?

When people are conscious that they are doing good they sometimes feel that they are serving something larger than themselves. It has been suggested that this feeling of elevation is necessary to have a meaningful life. For example, Martin Seligman defines a “meaningful life” as “using your signature strengths and virtues in the service of something much larger than you are” (“Authentic Happiness”, 2002: 263).

Such feelings of elevation do not always have to be present for people to behave morally. As Lynn Stout has pointed out, civilized life in urban societies depends to a large extent on passive altruism – people do not generally steal, even when there is a very low probability of being caught (‘Taking conscience seriously’, in P Zak (ed), “Moral Markets”, 2008: 157). We feel elevated or inspired only when doing good involves some effort or sacrifice.

In the final chapter of his book, Seligman speculates that human history is a process that is heading ultimately towards “nothing less than omniscience, omnipotence and goodness”. He suggests that the best we can do as individuals is to be a small part of furthering this progress: “this is the door through which meaning that transcends us can enter our lives” (260).

However, it seems to me that issues relating to historicism are more relevant to people whose aim in life is to be on the winning team – history’s hastening agents – than to those who want to live a meaningful life. I find it hard to see how it could be elevating to choose to do good just in order to be on the winning team.

I think it would be better to view the impulse to serve a good purpose in challenging circumstances as the door through which meaning that transcends us can enter our lives. Seligman discusses evidence earlier in his book (chapter 8) which suggests that the concept of goodness is ubiquitous rather than relativistic. We all tend to have similar views about what constitutes goodness despite differences in our individual tastes, social conventions and religious beliefs. Six virtues are endorsed by almost all religious and philosophical traditions: wisdom and knowledge, courage, love and humanity, justice, temperance, and spirituality and transcendence.

Is it possible for meaning that transcends us to enter our lives if we do not believe that the virtues are the result of divine intervention? I don’t see why not. We can view the expression of goodness as a potential of all humans while remaining agnostic about the source of this potential. The expression of goodness may be viewed as a natural part of what it means to be human. The actualization of this potential is a transcending experience for each individual because it requires us to move beyond the consideration of personal pleasure and pain. At the same time, because of our nature, the actualization of potential is an individual experience requiring the exercise of practical wisdom – there is a universal potential, but no universal recipe for the expression of that potential.

If we view the expression of goodness as a human quality, does this mean it cannot be revered? Why not? If we feel inspired by the virtues of others and elevated by our own efforts, surely be can permit ourselves to feel reverence for the potential for good that resides within every one of us.

William Wordsworth captured something of the feeling of reverence I have in mind in a poem written in 1802:

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
(Source: here)

Does self-help enable people to live more happily?

According to the usual market tests, the self-help industry seems to be successful. People are prepared to pay substantial amounts for the goods it offers and it seems reasonable to presume that they obtain benefits that are commensurate with the amounts they pay. But some people claim that these benefits are illusory. Does the self-help industry just produce psychobabble that gives people false hope? Or, does this industry assist people to achieve lasting gains in happiness?

Although the research has not yet been done that would enable these questions to be answered in a definitive way, a recent issue of “The Journal of Happiness Studies” contains articles that discuss some relevant issues (Issue 3, 2008, here). In particular, an article by Ad Bergsma examines a sample of best-selling self-help books that have themes relating to personal growth, personal relations, coping with stress and identity. (Authors of the selected books include Gray, Goleman, Dyer, Csiksezentmihalyi and Carnegie). The books were examined to see how closely their messages fit with observed correlates of happiness derived from scientific research. The results seem encouraging. The factors that the books strongly advocate (calmness, independence, internal locus of control, intimacy, love-life and marriage, mental health, self-actualization and tolerance) are nearly all positively correlated with happiness. (The exception is independence, for which results are ambivalent.) The books also strongly recommend against aggression, which has been shown to be negatively correlated with happiness.

Bergsma also refers to research on self-help that has been undertaken by others. This research suggests that most readers of these books are not chronically unhappy. Reading self-help books seems to be part of a coping style of people who are attempting to improve themselves. There is also some evidence that reading problem-focused self-help materials can be effective in the treatment of disorders, and even have outcomes comparable to therapist administered treatments. Bergsma suggests that the books may function in a way that is similar to travel guides: “Most readers will not follow
the book page by page, but will study parts of the book and will select some travel
options they would have never heard of without the book”.

In order to be successful in enabling people to live more happily self-help books would need to encourage people to reflect on their own patterns of thinking and behaviour and to consider whether changes are necessary. That is certainly true of Martin Seligman’s book, “Authentic Happiness” (2002). Seligman suggests: “Insufficient appreciation and savoring of the good events in your past and overemphasis of the bad ones are the two culprits that undermine serenity, contentment, and satisfaction” (70). The remedies he suggests are gratitude, to amplify the savoring and appreciation of the good events gone by, and forgiveness, to loosen the power of bad events to embitter. Seligman also makes many other suggestions, including making an annual appraisal of your life’s trajectory, covering the domains that are of greatest value to you. This accounting “pins you down, leaves little room for self-deception, and tells you when to act” (82).

Some people manage to turn their lives around simply by reflecting on such things as their most positive beliefs, their role models, the things they are grateful for, their goals and their commitments. For some examples, see Let’sReflect (here).

My personal preference for self-help is a process explained by Michael Hall in his book, “Unleashed”. This involves: developing an understanding of your potential; accessing the executive levels of mind to re-construct your intentions; and actualizing your best meanings and intentions in performance. (The approach developed in Hall’s book can be sampled on his self-actualization web site, here.)

There are many different ways in which people can help themselves to live happy lives. The important point to recognise is that it is in our nature as humans to reflect upon our own lives and to seek to improve them. It seems to me that in developing that skill most of us can learn a lot from “travel guides” written by qualified professionals.