Essay on Identity
“I yam what I
yam.” -- Popeye the Sailor
The
words “identity crisis” entered my life shortly after Erikson launched the term
into the culture in 1968. That was the
middle of my high school career, and I never learned an actual definition for
the term—I just heard that an “identity crisis,” whatever it was, could be
expected in young people like myself.
Mostly the term was used as slang—when someone showed any emotional or
behavioral stress, someone else was likely to ask, “What are you doing—having
an identity crisis?” It is only just
now, in research for this essay, that I’ve learned anything about what Erikson
actually meant.
It’s
really been only recently—over the past couple of years—that I’ve started
thinking in an explicit way about identity.
It started by observing some effects of identity in online discussion
groups. Online discussions take place
as a series of typically short written messages, with conversations stretching
over days or weeks. A person posts a
message, all participants can read it when they wish, and one or more may
choose to reply. People reply to the
replies, and a sort of discussion happens.
What I noticed is that despite much earnest effort put into presenting
rationales for beliefs and opinions, those who start with opposing opinions
rarely change them. Despite this,
further messages that assert controversial points can be counted on to elicit
counter-assertions, often from the same person who had laboriously made a similar
case the last time the matter came up, and often directed at the same person
who had disagreed with him on the previous occasion. In case there is any doubt, of course I was one of the people in
which I observed this behavior.
Reflecting on this repeated pattern, I started wondering “Why are people generally impervious to each
other’s logic on these issues?”
Meanwhile,
I happened to hear a documentary segment on NPR that seemed to bear on this
matter. The story involved a journalist
who took on a project to investigate the “Vincent Foster Phenomena.” His subject encompassed both the events
surrounding Foster’s death, and the ‘subculture’ of conspiracy believers for
whom sharing information and theories about this and other incidents had become
a major avocation. What interested me
most was the reporter’s ultimate decision about the results of his
investigation. His evaluation of the
evidence convinced him that there was indeed something “fishy” about the
Vincent Foster “suicide.” While he didn’t
have definite evidence of what actually happened, he had good reason to believe
that Vincent Foster did not commit suicide in the park where he was found. But he further decided that “it didn’t
matter.” And he frankly admitted that
he decided to think “it didn’t matter” because he was a mainstream reporter,
not a “conspiracy believer.” In other
words, the reporter made a major decision on what was “news” based on a
personal identity issue.
This
example shows the enormous role identity plays in regulating social life. In this specific instance a reporter had
what would seem, objectively, to be a major story and a major moral issue: open
questions suggesting the possible murder of the President’s Counsel. But he consciously decided “it didn’t
matter” because he believed he could not continue to be a ‘mainstream reporter’
if he pursued it. And he was probably
correct in so thinking: his peer group had already reached a consensus that
this matter was “closed,” and further that it should remain so. Had he attempted to push the story forward,
he would have encountered social and career sanctions. He would have been forced into a new
identity, perhaps “maverick reporter,” an identity with tenuous support and
privileges compared to his current status.
Individual identity is socially conditioned; to a large extent others
have power to decide if our identity will be considered valid. This gives social groups tremendous power to
enforce conformity by considering certain beliefs and behavior symbolic of group
affiliation. If such affiliation is
important to an individual’s identity, he is extremely unlikely to dissent from
the group-mandated positions. Thus the
behavior of large groups is controlled by the group consensus on symbolic
issues.
I
think this social control aspect of personal/group identity has extremely
important implications. There certainly
was no examination of such dynamics in the Political Science field in which I
earned my BA degree, although in my undergraduate days the discipline was largely
preoccupied with conspicuously unsuccessful attempts to understand the genesis
and exercise of “community power.” There is much to know about how some issues
take on symbolic importance while others do not, and how the “group line” on
such issues is established.
This
discussion of individual/group identity sheds some light on my question of why
online discussions follow the pattern I described earlier. People are defending issue positions because
they are symbolic of group affiliation and self-identity. They often continue to defend them even in
the face of logic and evidence, since to change them would necessitate a change
in self-identity, and people are highly averse to such changes. Typically, people who are overmatched in
debate stop participating in the discussions; seldom is a major shift in
position seen online. People would
much rather fight than switch, and flight is likewise preferable.
I
found a very interesting discussion of many identity issues in the paper “On
Becoming a Person” by John Barresi of Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia (copy
enclosed). Out of a great many concepts
and issues presented, there are two that I found particularly
illuminating.
One
of the crucial areas of “personology” studies identified by Barresi is the
“Narrative Creation of Persons” that begins in the adolescent years. At this time people begin to consciously
create “stories” of their own life, which constitute self-identity. I thought Barresi made a very important
point in passing when he noted that verbal language skills might play a crucial
role in this process. It seems obvious
that construction of a narrative story is going to be hampered if one has
problems expressing oneself with words.
This problem, alas, appears to be on the upswing with adolescents. I recall a striking anecdote I heard,
regarding a small group of young men observed ‘hanging out’ at a mall. An especially attractive female passed by,
and the young men were highly stimulated.
They all wanted to express their feelings verbally. However, all that came out was the
descriptive “awesome!” They struggled
and stuttered, seeking to find words adequate to describe their energized
elevated state and the wondrous vision that had prompted it. But “ah-ah-ah-awesome” remained the only
utterance that escaped. Any further
speech powers had deserted them. (This
naturally must be a result of too much TV watching and video game playing).
Of
course, one anecdote describing inarticulate teenagers does not define a
trend. Undoubtedly many teenagers are
beautifully articulate. But to the
extent that such verbal disability exists, I think it’s a problem for the
individuals and others. If one cannot
easily and flexibly create a narrative of self, one is all the more dependent
on ready-made narratives offered by others.
Such a person is vulnerable to manipulation. They can become ‘stuck’ in identity patterns that are working
poorly for them, since they lack facility in creating ‘adjustments’ to their
self-narrative. Experiencing continued
unsatisfactory life outcomes, and lacking the ability to adapt and change, they
may become extremely frustrated and angry, and prone to destructive acts.
The
whole matter of the influence of others on our self-narratives is a second
point of Barresi’s that I found illuminating and provocative. The social aspects of identity have manifold
implications, but an especially valuable insight to me was the fact that
personal identity, to be effective and successful, must be congruent with
identity models and roles offered in the culture. Otherwise, one does not receive cultural validation of one’s
identity, and the friendship and cooperation of others is withheld. Barresi
points out that the culture offers different identities to various classes of
people. I have always resented
statements about the ‘privileged’ status of white males, but this discussion
finally made clear to me at least one mechanism by which such privileging (or
conversely, oppression) is accomplished.
Individuals, acting in accordance with social norms internalized into
their self-identities, offer friendship, trust, cooperation, aid,
encouragement, consolation, love, and all other interpersonal and social
benefits. Or, in other cases, they
withhold such benefits and behave adversely.
Those favored are distinguished by being regarded as ‘respectable;’
those rejected are in effect and sometimes explicitly denied personhood. Thus, insult and disrespect are a denial of
the very humanity of the target.
Ironically,
the investigation of identity issues leads me to two paradoxical
attitudes. On the one hand, I am
gaining an appreciation of a personal and interpersonal process of vast
significance. The influence of identity
narratives is enormous, and it is amazing to me that understanding of these
issues is so poorly developed in the general culture. On the other hand, with the realization that personal identity is
largely extrinsic, largely plastic, and largely contingent, its power becomes
to me highly questionable. The ferocity
with which most people defend their personal and cultural identity seems
unwarranted. It appears clear that if
we ask “What should our identity be,” the answer will have to come, as Barresi
observes, from outside the sphere of identity analysis.
Some
30 years after Erikson gave the world the concept of the identity crisis, the
term is commonly used in a superficial way to mean ‘being in a state in which
basic questions of function or goal are open.’
Companies, television shows, and
even whole countries are spoken of as undergoing ‘identity crises.’ Few indeed seem to have any idea what is at
stake in the initial adolescent identity crisis—the often protracted period
that begins when a person first becomes capable of creating a narrative
elaborating an abstract concept of the self persisting through time. The term ‘crisis’ is misleading in that most
people think of a crisis as a relatively brief period in which emergency action
must be taken to avert disaster. The
identity crisis can go on for years. It
ends with commitment—hopefully a strong conscious choice, sometimes a mere
acceptance of the seemingly inevitable.
One way or another most of us eventually conclude, like Popeye, that who
we are is settled and definite. In a
world full of others who desire to dictate changes to our self-narrative for
their own benefit, we learn to defend our identities, filtering out messages
from all but trusted sources. But in
fact we are what we become, and we always have the potential to make new
choices.
Valparaiso,
Indiana
August,
1999
