What Do We Need to Be or Do to Prove Our Worth?

Why the pursuit of self-worth can become a trap

Twenty-five years ago, I was starting to feel dissatisfied with my career.  On a tip from a friend, I attended a workshop that turned my understanding of self-esteem—and myself--on its head.  Here’s the story.

Most people want to have high self-esteem, or they want to raise children with high self-esteem.  This desire for high self-esteem makes sense—people with high self-esteem tend to be happier, less depressed, more satisfied with their lives, and less anxious than people with low self-esteem.  Who wouldn’t want that for themselves or their loved ones? 

I’ve studied self-esteem for more than 40 years and explored how it works in my own life.  I’ve discovered that self-esteem is important, but not for the reasons people usually think.  In my work, I found that having high self-esteem is not the solution to most of life’s problems.  Furthermore, chasing after it can cause a lot of misery. 

Generally, people think of self-esteem as a stable personality trait as if you carry it around with you from situation to situation.  If you have high self-esteem, it helps you no matter what situation you find yourself in.  And if you are unlucky enough to have low self-esteem, it holds you back everywhere.

I think this view of self-esteem misses an important point.   As my previous two posts note, self-esteem isn’t stable for most of us; it fluctuates around our typical or trait level.  Sometimes our self-esteem gets a boost, and other times it takes a dive.  These ups and downs of self-esteem are as important—if not more important—than whether trait self-esteem is high or low.

What produces these ups and downs?  Everyone invests their self-esteem in some area of accomplishment or achievement.  People can attach their self-esteem to almost anything.  William James wrote about this over 100 years ago, when he explained that his self-esteem depended on how good a psychologist he was, whereas his brother Henry James’ self-esteem depended on his literary ability. Today, some people base their self-esteem on their academic achievements, physical attractiveness, or what a virtuous person they are, whereas others base their self-esteem on how much money they earn or how their romantic relationship is going.  Once people invest their self-esteem in some quality or accomplishment, it fluctuates in response to success and failure in those areas. 

The domains in which people invest their self-esteem are called contingencies of self-worth.  [Note: I use self-esteem and self-worth interchangeably.]  They represent what people believe they need to be or do to have worth and value as a person. 

Contingencies of self-worth are a double-edged sword.  They are a powerful source of motivation and a huge psychological vulnerability.

When people invest their self-esteem in something, they are driven to succeed and not fail.  They think success means not only “I did great,” but also, “I am great.”  They believe they have value and worth.  They assume failure means not only “I failed,” but also “I’m a failure,” and “therefore, I’m worthless.”  As a result, people have powerful emotional responses to success and failure in areas where their self-esteem is invested.  They get an emotional high from success, and they feel on top of the world.  But failure is devastating.

Because the highs feel so good and the lows feel so bad, people arrange their lives to get the highs and avoid the lows.  Some of the ways they do this have good results.  People might study, practice, or work hard to ensure success, which increases the chances of the ego high and decreases the odds of failure.  I think this is why people believe contingencies of self-esteem are a good thing.  My students have asked me, “Why would I bother to get out of bed in the morning if my self-esteem wasn’t on the line?”

I’ve discovered that motivation that comes from investing self-esteem in something also has a lot of costs.  I know this not only from my research, but also from personal experience.  I’ve spent 25 years trying to understand those costs, and what to do about them. I’ve explored them in my research.  I’ve also come to recognize them in my own life.