The Shadow Side of Self-Esteem

Is an obsession with self-esteem fuelling competition, separateness and narcissistic behaviour?

In November, I had the pleasure of attending a day-long retreat in West London. This was the first time I'd experienced a day retreat, probably because in the past, I would have assumed that I needed to 'go' somewhere and put in 'proper' time to feel 'real' benefits. Once again, the 'go hard or go home' approach had failed to appreciate the subtle ease and the compounding effects I would experience over the coming weeks. In short, the retreat was an excellent way to press pause during a busy period of life and sit in various nourishing and reflective practices.

Whilst the feel-good glow from the retreat experience faded with time, one message continued to circle, as if it had been seared onto my brain with a branding iron: society's obsession with self-esteem is contributing to a crisis of narcissism. Could a cultural obsession with self-esteem be fuelling competition, separateness and narcissistic behaviour?

Panacea or Poison?

The self-esteem movement emerged throughout the 80s and 90s. Many psychologists viewed self-esteem as a critical indicator for measuring mental health during this time. And there was a good reason for this because lots of research linked low self-esteem to various mental health problems, like this study which found that low self-esteem prospectively predicts depression in teenagers and young adults.

Yet, over the past two decades, researchers have questioned whether this hyper-focus on self-esteem has been short-sighted, inadvertently creating its own mental health hurdles and social challenges.

A Double-Edged Sword

Self-esteem refers to our sense of self-worth or how much we like ourselves. And it's a mixed blessing because whilst low self-esteem is more obviously problematic- leading to a lack of confidence or motivation- focusing on increasing our self-esteem can create its own challenges. This is because self-esteem is usually based on how different we are from others, how much we stand out from the crowd or are unique. Fixating on this can lead to self-absorbed behaviour.

According to Dr Kristin Neff, author of 'Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself', self-esteem refers to "the degree to which we evaluate ourselves positively. It represents how much we like or value ourselves and is often based on comparisons with others." Neff argues that our self-esteem is primarily determined by how we measure ourselves relative to others. From this angle, self-esteem appears individualistic and insidious, with the potential to fuel competition and separateness over interconnectedness and community.

Two sides of the same self-absorbed coin

Throughout secondary school, I was weighed down by what Neff would have described as low self-esteem. It crept in through a variety of different channels: standing on the scales after my best friend and realising I was a stone heavier; at my 13th birthday party when my friends presented me with a pair of jeans that were "way too big for Chloe but should fit you just fine"; or at a camp when some of the girls remarked that my short hair made me "look like a boy." Little ways that, over time, left me stuck with a sense that the way I looked wasn't good enough. (N.B. My secondary school experience aligns with research that shows that self-perceived attractiveness, self-confidence in appearance and body esteem all significantly predicted self-esteem, more so in women than in men.)

Like many people with low self-esteem, I claimed not to judge others or hold them to such high standards: my perverse perfectionism was reserved just for me. Yet hindsight offers a humbling balcony from which I can see the paradox: when we judge ourselves, we also judge others to understand where we fit in the great comparison games of life.

Fast forward to 2012, and I'm in my second year of university. I've just had my first T.V. role as a guest star on Holby City, and I am the lead in a cheesy detergent commercial that's paid me more money than a student knows what to do with. The ad showed in practically every commercial break for a year (and this was at a time when Game of Thrones was getting big). So, whilst I would have preferred to have been on Game of Thrones over on a cringe-worthy commercial, that didn't matter because, relative to my acting peers, I felt like I was doing well. I had high self-esteem. But it was shaky and self-absorbed. As Neff writes:

“Our culture has become so competitive we need to feel special and above average to just to feel okay about ourselves (being called “average” is an insult). Most people, therefore, feel compelled to create what psychologists call a “self-enhancement bias” – puffing ourselves up and putting others down so that we can feel superior in comparison. However, this constant need to feel better than our fellow human beings leads to a sense of isolation and separation.”

The highlight of my acting career 😂….

When I compare these two experiences of self-esteem, I am struck by the similarities between the two: there's a sense of individualism and fragility. Whether we are talking about low or high self-esteem, it seems that, if focused on too much, they can become two sides of the same self-absorbed coin. Retrospectively I can see that no amount of self-esteem would have prepared me for the unexpected challenges that would hit me over the next few years (such as when my friend Connor died from a simple fall down the stairs while at his dorms at Oxford Uni). Self-esteem appears like a 'hanger-on': one of those friends that stick around to share in your success but disappears when you discover you've got cancer.

It also doesn't necessarily make you a nice person. In fact, research suggests that the self-esteem movement might be increasing the prevalence of narcissistic personality disorder, which the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM–5) describes as a pattern of grandiosity, need for admiration and lack of empathy.

Generation Me

In 2008, Dr Jean Twenge and her team compared samples of U.S. college students who completed the Narcissistic Personality Inventory (NPI) between 1979 and 2006 and found that narcissism levels in students rose by a massive 30%. Interestingly, self-esteem levels rose during this time, with more students rating themselves as 'above average.' There are many terms for this phenomenon, including illusory superiority, the above-average effect, the superiority bias or my personal favourite, the Lake Wobegon effect, named after the fictional town where all the children are above average. In this article, which discusses evidence for 'Generation Me' (the term she uses to describe millennials/gen Y, born after 1980), Twenge argues that:

"We should stop trying to boost self-esteem and stop teaching that self-belief is important to success […] When we try to increase self-esteem without basis, it leads to an inflated sense of self that can become narcissism. We might start by cutting back on grade inflation, participation trophies, and narcissistic language such as "You are special" or "You're my princess" (she's not. She's your kid, and unless you are Prince William, she is not a princess, nor do you want her to act like one). We should also do a better job of teaching the importance of empathy, perspective taking, and involvement in larger social issues."

Nevertheless, Twenge's books and published articles have received their fair share of criticism. In this article, Professor Jeffrey Arnett challenges NPI as a reliable measure of narcissism and questions the use of college students as representative of 'emerging adults.' Yet, amidst his scathing criticism, he does credit Twenge for "delivering a well-deserved skewering to the excesses of the self-esteem movement." In another article examining how narcissism changes over a lifetime, the authors paint a more optimistic picture of emerging adults, arguing that "every generation is Generation Me, as every generation of younger people are more narcissistic than their elders." The point is that every generation is a little bit narcissistic… until they grow up!

The Comparison Trap

Is the issue not so much to do with self-esteem itself but rather our obsession with getting more of it? As part of my research, I dipped my toe into the world of TikTok and discovered that #selfesteem has received over 687 million views, with posts varying from '7 habits that ruin your self-esteem' to 'self-esteem building exercises.' Even from limited TikTok experience/research, it would be fair to assume that the self-esteem movement is still gaining momentum after 3+ decades. So why are so many people still obsessed with boosting their self-esteem? It might be that many of us are addicted to the 'highs' of esteem. In fact, researchers Roy Baumeister and Kathleen Vohs argue that narcissism could be viewed as an addiction to esteem:

"Narcissism can be considered a pattern of addiction. That is, narcissism may not be a lifelong personality trait in the usual sense but rather a pattern of yielding to inner urges in a way that proves costly and self-destructive—not unlike other, more familiar addictions."

As the paper points out, "the steady raising of self-esteem cannot continue indefinitely." At some point, reality will intrude - maybe through redundancy, a breakup, or injury—and our self-esteem will crash. Self-esteem is with us for the good times but quickly disappears when things don't go our way. As Neff writes: "once you've gotten high self-esteem, how do you keep it? It's an emotional roller-coaster ride: our sense of self-worth bounces around like a ping-pong ball, rising and falling in lock-step with our latest success or failure."

An Infinite Game

Theodore Roosevelt once said that "comparison is the thief of joy", which feels ever more apt given that we live in a moment of unprecedented social media infiltration. Social media gives us access to a vast number of people, and so naturally, the sources for comparison are extensive too. In his book 'The Infinite Game,' Simon Sinek describes finite games as having known players, fixed rules, and an agreed-upon objective. In contrast, infinite games are defined as having known and unknown players and changeable rules, and the aim is not to win but to keep playing, to continue perpetuating the game. Social media is, by this definition, an infinite game. No one's ever going to "win" at social media (except maybe the companies themselves, but that's another article!)

During the Covid-19 pandemic, I began tapering off my social medial usage with the help of an app blocker that would time me out after 10 minutes. This was driven by a strong sense that social media was making me more unhappy (as I've said on numerous occasions, "the time-to-joy ratio wasn't working out for me.”) Yet, even with this relatively short amount of scroll time, I still sensed the comparison trap and interestingly, the pull to 'puff out my chest' was even stronger. I question whether this was partly because I was half in/half out of the game, and seeing other people' play' at full speed only made me want to cave in and scroll more. In October 2021, I finally quit for good as a birthday present to myself. An unexpected consequence of leaving the social media 'game' is that I've noticed a reduction in the types of self-esteem games I end up playing (like comparing the ways I feel #blessed with everyone else's virtue signalling on my Insta feed.) I've left certain arenas, and that's okay because there are only so many things I can focus on in this one lifetime.

If self-esteem is based on how we compare ourselves to others, what are the benchmarks for comparison? Who decides what success looks like? Right now, algorithmic amplification powerfully influences what we see on our feeds and, consequently, what we believe. As Alex Olshonsky, creator of the Deep Fix, writes in his article "The great millennial predicament: The Antidote to Self-Doubt, Cosmic Insignificance, and Narcissism":

"If you do not think tremendously hard about what you value, you will default to the Machine's values—wealth, status, lip injections, The New York Times, likes and replies, light beer and football. Entire lives are built around these gods."

If you're worried that social media could be making you a self-esteem junkie, know that quitting won't magically make your addiction disappear. In fact, whilst the types of self-esteem 'games' I play have changed, I still catch myself humble bragging about being off social media as another way to stand out and feel special. Self-esteem is woven into the fabric of our society, so social media or not, it's not going away.

This is where self-compassion comes in…

In a world of constant comparison, what could be more radical than accepting yourself?

When I first came across self-compassion, it felt like a radical idea. What do you mean you're allowed to be nice to yourself? That's a thing?!? I immediately pushed back against it, seeing it as an attack on progress and potential. Self-esteem is what’s made you successful, Katie. Without it, who will you be? How will you improve?

At its core, self-compassion is about how we relate to ourselves. It's a relationship that requires turning inwards and observing how we talk to ourselves. With a practice of self-compassion, we can step out of self-esteem's yo-yo energy, which swings from self-aggrandisement to shame, and into a more resilient source that holds us through it all. Because, perhaps most importantly, self-compassion isn't reliant on extrinsic factors (like a promotion, P.B., or likes); it comes from within.

Yet, as with many vital practices (breath work and meditation come to mind), self-compassion is simple but not easy. Given that many of us spend much of our lives criticising ourselves, it can be hard (and even painful) to turn towards ourselves more compassionately. As Jack Kornfield writes in 'A Path with Heart':

"If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete."

I've worked with many coaching clients who are compassionate with everyone except themselves. One way I help these clients with self-compassion is through reframing. I ask them to imagine that they are talking to a best friend. Watching how quickly their whole manner shifts with this simple instruction is fascinating. We wouldn't talk to our worst enemies the way we speak to ourselves; however, for many of us, some version of "not good enough" is playing on constant repeat in our brains. If this pattern feels familiar, try not to criticise the criticising (!). This will only continue to perpetuate the vicious cycle. Instead, consider how you can hold this self-criticism more compassionately. I love author Elizabeth Gilbert's approach to self-compassion, which involves writing a love letter to herself every day:

"Every day I write myself a letter from love—divine, unconditional love. I ask for advice, and love always gives me kind answers, which I write down as they come to me. Even in my darkest hours, love has always shown up, saying, "I'm right here. I've got you. You're never alone.

An antidote to the volatility of self-esteem

In writing this article, I've come to view self-compassion not as the antithesis to self-esteem but as an ally for the most important relationship of all: the one we have with ourselves. Whereas self-esteem helps us to make sense of our value through continual feedback loops, an over-reliance on these metrics can generate volatility and uncertainty within our sense of self, especially when things don't go our way. Self-compassion, on the hand, helps us to connect to our intrinsic value, a sense of worth that isn’t reliant on anything or anyone. Beyond simply being a much kinder way to live, self-compassion can help us step back and gain perspective so we can witness our mental chatter without necessarily engaging in the 'sides' of self-esteem.

Whereas self-esteem seems to push us towards binary thinking (good/bad, right/wrong, positive/negative), self-compassion allows us to sit in the not knowing. From this space, it's less about who's better than who and more about what's trying to happen….

I want to leave you with these two questions to think about:

• Where are you playing self-esteem games that are no longer serving you?

• And how might you bring more self-compassion to these areas of your life?