This post breaks the rules.
Rule #1: Keep everything simple. It's a good rule for blog-writing and reels where we only have a moment to make our case. I'm going to break it.
Rule #2: Shame is always bad. It's self-focused and destructive. Yep, I'm going to break this one, too.
Rule #3: Have no regrets! The exclamation mark is part of the rule, and I'll be disputing it.
Buckle up...
It's Not so Simple
This all started with a Facebook meme suggesting that narcissists always want to be a hero or a victim, and that they never admit to being a villain. I may have nodded a bit.
Then the same morning I read Rebecca Randall's fine article where she places narcissism alongside humility, citing a pastor and social scientist in concluding, "five out of six of us have gone through challenging seasons dealing with narcissistic people to whom we were close."
That resonated, too, but uneasiness started settling into my nod.
Narcissism rates are increasing, but so is our tendency to label people as narcissists when we don't like what they have done. It startles me to know that 106 thousand people follow a Facebook page devoted to Narcissist Memes.
Narcissists may refuse to see themselves as villains, but they're not alone. Do any of us really see ourselves as being villains like the latest Marvel malefactor?
Then again, maybe it's true that each of us carries a bit of villain around with us whether we admit it or not.
And then, oh my, I remembered the words of Jeremy Taylor, a 17th Century Anglican, who advised:
Call to mind every day some one of your foulest sins, or the most shameful of your disgraces, or your most indiscreet act, or anything that most troubled you, and apply it to the present swelling of your spirit, and it may help allay it. (1)
These words are so provocative, so contrary to current understandings of mental health, so theologically anomalous. Might Taylor's words still have value?
Shame as Moral Emotion
We have come to see shame as self-absorbed, part of the narcissist equation. This may be mostly right, but also oversimplified.
Episode 4 of the current Apple TV mini-series, Presumed Innocent, highlights a tense conversation between an accused murderer (Rusty) and his friend/defense attorney (Raymond).
Rusty: How dare you say that I don't take responsibility? That I don't feel shame and that I am not consumed by guilt?
Raymond: You know, in forty years, I have. seen a lot of guilt and shame in this business. Shame is something that you put on yourself. Self-absorbed. Self-centered. Guilt is more about owning and feeling the pain you cause others. I don't doubt you feel shame."
This stark bifurcation between shame and guilt makes for better television than social science. In times past (and in other societies still) shame has been seen as a moral emotion, a corrective that helps us recognize when we lose our way, to once again find solid footing.
Jonathan Haidt, the renowned social psychologist and author, once wrote that shame, guilt, and embarrassment are all important in daily life insofar as they help us "conform to rules and uphold the social order." (2)
Like digitalis and sweet wormwood, shame may be poisonous in large doses and healing in small doses. Might small doses of shame put some teeth into our current fascination with narcissism, and even with humility?
The word humility has become popular again. As one who studies positive psychology, I'm grateful for this even as I fret it may soften the moral weight of human error. After all, most of us deem ourselves humble, especially those who are not.
We can be proud about our humility, but calling to mind our most shameful thoughts or actions as Taylor suggested, well that doesn't leave much room for self-congratulatory fluff.
No Regrets. Really?
We've seen the memes, TED talks, and celebrity interviews telling us to have no regrets. It's become a modern day doctrine, replete with songs and t-shirts and tattoos. There are nuggets of wisdom hidden in the no regret mantra, but the nuggets are embedded deep in a cliff of denial and oversimplification.
Best-selling author Daniel Pink calls this a "delightful but dangerous doctrine." The purpose of his book, The Power of Regret, is to "reclaim regret as an indispensable emotion--and to show you how to use its many strengths to make better decisions, perform better at work and school, and bring greater meaning to your life." (3)
Following Taylor's advice from 375 years ago would bring us face-to-face with regrets every day. Maybe his approach is too harsh, but then again, maybe it would help sharpen our focus and bring meaning to the vital part of life that still lies ahead.
Facing into the Shadow
Perhaps Taylor's suggestion of a daily practice is too much, but it may be useful as an occasional practice to remember the times we have lost our way, to allow the sorrow and regret to seep in, maybe even shame, to remember the pain we have caused ourselves and others.
An occasional practice such as this might help protect us from the rising tide of narcissism in our world today.
Taylor, J. (1650/1988). Holy living (Updated by Hal M. Helms). Paraclete. p. 57.
Haidt, J. (2003). "The Moral Emotions." In R. J. Davidson, K. R. Scherer, & H. H. Goldsmith (Eds.), Handbook of affective sciences (pp. 852-870). Oxford University Press. p. 861.
Pink, D., (2022). The power of regret: How looking backward moves us forward. Penguin. p. 13.
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