Incoming Insights: Direct and Indirect Identity

In the last article, I explained some of the discoveries we have made at IRI about learning. I want to expand a bit on that and talk about how the ideas of direct and indirect understanding impact self-identity. We have found this is important when helping others improve themselves.

As I covered in the previous post, people tend to learn things in one of two ways – directly, through personal comprehension of an idea, or indirectly, by learning someone else’s ideas. In general, we learn indirectly at first, but our ultimate goal should be direct understanding. This is especially true when we are learning about our own personal identity.

If someone points out that we learn about ourselves from others, many of us would understand what was meant. I learn about who I am initially from my parents, my siblings, my extended family, and my friends. They tell me my name, that I am a human, what ethnic group I belong to, and other interesting things about me. Eventually, however, I start to formulate my own ideas about things: blue is a prettier color than other colors, science is more interesting than art (or vice versa), cauliflower is yucky, and so on. Over time, I understand that I am myself, and other people are not me. In a healthy environment, I also understand that I am responsible for myself. Ideally, I develop a direct self-identity; I am me, and I know who I am.

In reality, however, the final parts of this are a bit easier said than done. Most of us constantly struggle with other people’s perceptions of us. Sometimes this is good, as others can help me see things about myself that are valuable or need developing that I had missed. All too often, however, this is a negative experience, as others see me as too short, too fat, too ugly, or otherwise inferior or deficient. We struggle between understanding ourselves directly (having a strong internal sense of who I am), and understanding ourselves indirectly (seeing ourselves as others see us) for most of our lives. We want to use what we learn from others (indirectly) to form a correct direct understanding of ourselves. We don’t always succeed, but we know understand our goal.

Unfortunately, the ideal sometimes gives way to the terrible. In some situations, our ability to develop our own direct understanding of ourselves is stifled or suppressed. There are many scenarios where this can happen: abusive families, overbearing teachers or supervisors who will only accept their understanding of things, and nearly every case of slavery or broad cultural oppression. In these cases, our ability to form a direct understanding of ourselves is squashed in favor of a second person’s understanding. We are told someone else already knows everything there is to know about us (or at least everything important). Our identity is forged by proxy, and we develop an indirect identity.

This indirect identity creates a sense of dependency—I now need this second person, because it is through that person that I understand myself. I suppose this could be acceptable if the other person understood me perfectly, but that’s not possible (other people are no more perfect than I am, after all). As a result, I become dependent on this second person for my identity, and the associated sense of well-being and security that goes along with having a sense of self.

This is a dangerous situation. We have discovered that this dependent sense of self seems tied to a displaced sense of responsibility. One of the issues we have encountered among suppressed people groups is a sense that they are not in charge of their lives. Not simply that they are being controlled, but that they really aren't responsible for what happens to them. Our theory is that since their identity is tied up in their suppressor, it causes them to identify their suppressor as the one responsible for their lives. Thus, I am not responsible for what happens to me—the person I depend is responsible. This displaced sense of responsibility makes it difficult for people to act on their own behalf in areas of importance. Even more tragically, since long-term changes are out of their control, their only sense of agency tends to come from self-gratification.

Ironically, as long as the suppressor remains, this situation is livable. I can get along in life, as long as I have this second person (who is responsible for me) telling me what to do. I may not like that they are in charge, but I am accustomed to it, and have learned to live within the arrangement to the best of my ability. Once the suppressor is removed, however (whether by an external liberator, or by my own rebellion), things get tough. Now I discover that I don’t know who I am. In addition, I am accustomed to having a suppressor, and all my habits are oriented around that end. It makes a tragic sense, then, that many people from abusive relationships return to their abuser or end up in similarly abusive situations later. On a large scale, it means that a suppressed culture will have a tendency to look for a new “substitute” for their old oppressor. This is not necessarily a conscious decision—it is a consequence of habit.

This is a tragic cycle--one that is self-reinforcing once started. Impressions and repeated behavior, over time, become habits. These habits, over time, spread throughout the culture. Habits repeated throughout the culture are eventually seen as normative. Thus, the culture itself can serve to reinforce this sense of helplessness and displaced identity. The people of such a culture may lament their position, or think it perfectly acceptable, but at the end of the day, it is just the way things are.

Fortunately, these issues can be addressed. I'll discuss how we have been working to break these cycles next month.