In 1943, Abraham Maslow introduced the psychology of human potential to a broad audience via his “hierarchy of needs” pyramid. Seventy years later it is still taught in high schools and colleges despite widespread criticism of Maslow’s data-collection processes, suspect assumptions, and highly subjective interpretations.
I’ve never been a fan of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. I don’t like its sequential, step-by-step approach to personal motivation, growth, and achievement. Life is anything but linear, and humans are faced with a multitude of “necessities,” motivations, and goals that go far beyond what Maslow outlined.
Nonetheless, Maslow’s work can help illuminate why Donald Trump became the Republican nominee and why he still garners considerable support despite one “this is a new low” gaffe after another. At its most basic level, Trump’s harsh rhetoric appeals to the bottommost layers of Maslow’s hierarchy – physiological and safety needs. He’s going to deliver more jobs at higher pay, make “winning” so common it becomes boring, and ensure that Americans are protected against terrorists domestic and foreign, can shout “Merry Christmas” from the highest rooftops, and stop Mexicans from taking the jobs that Americans don’t want.
But it’s the next two levels on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs that best explain Trump’s core character and his continuing support: esteem and love/belonging. As the exemplar of unabashed narcissism, The Donald is all about ego-stroking. If you love him, he loves you back. If you make the slightest of slights, the Trump venom will flow fast and furious. He has a deep insecurity that requires near constant affirmation of his greatness – and he manifests his “greatness” by a bullying demeanor. Maslow said, “If you only have a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.” The Trump corollary is, “If you’re a bully, you tend to see every encounter as an opportunity to bully.”
Most tellingly, Trump provided his loyal supporters with something they rarely experience: the very same esteem and love/belonging. Trump voters tend to reside on the fringes where there are often afraid to voice their politically incorrect (and often abhorrently) beliefs and opinions. Trump has used the love/belonging need to create a community of the racist, homophobic, nationalistic, and AK-47-toting, ill-informed masses. The kind of vile individuals Maslow summarized as such: “Rioting is a childish way of trying to be a man, but it takes time to rise out of the hell of hatred and frustration and accept that to be a man you don’t have to riot.” Unfortunately, rioting is all Trump and his followers know. These are the folks who are widely demeaned in movies, on television, and in print as redneck in-breds. It’s rare that they get love from New Yorkers – let along a billionaire whose face is recognized far and wide. So the more Trump strokes them, the more they stroke him, and the more he strokes back. Some have characterized Trump’s campaign as a cluster you-know-what, but it’s really more of a circle jerk. Everyone gets what they want with no qualms or basic understanding of what they’re doing and what damage might be wrought by their masturbatory fantasies. They imagine a Trump presidency that will deliver a new world order where white people take over their rightful spot at the top of the hill and where anyone “not like us” is sent back to wherever they came from.
Neither Trump nor his voters approach the self-actualization level that Maslow describes. There is no self-awareness. They see neither the forest nor the trees. They live in a world that no one else sees. They live in the past and in some idealized, past-inspired future. They ignore the present. And to quote Maslow, “The ability to be in the present moment is a major component of mental wellness.”
And the most common response to that question? I’m a perfectionist.
The question is bogus and the response is cloyingly absurd. In defense of the interviewee, he or she is simply trying to turn a negative into a positive; but only the truly deluded could view perfectionism as a positive attribute. Perfection is illusory and its pursuit will inevitably lead to grief and disappointment. If you don’t believe it, consider the arc of Tiger Woods’ career. Woods was poised to reign as the greatest golfer of all time. His golf swing was a thing of beauty that combined power and finesse. But Woods was not content with an extraordinary swing. He wanted a perfect swing and he hired a succession of high-priced coaches to tweak and experiment with his mechanics. This ill-conceived pursuit of perfection resulted in a multi-year fall from the leaderboard to the middle of the pack. His extraordinary swing was a distant memory, and his perfect swing was a pipe dream.
I’m quite certain I know what you’re thinking: Even if perfection is unattainable doesn’t it still serve a valid and useful purpose as an aspirational goal? The answer is an unequivocal no. The quest for perfection does not allow for mistakes or failure. Perfection cannot accommodate risk because risk entails too great a possibility of failure. A far better approach to achieving maximum performance in any endeavor is the embrace of three simple tenets:
- Focus on the journey not the destination. Perfection implies an endpoint; but not only is that endpoint unattainable, it also mitigates the joy and self-satisfaction of achieving new milestones and new personal bests.
- Strive for continual improvement rather than perfection. All of the greatest hitters in Major League Baseball struck out far more times than they hit homeruns. Michael Jordan missed 50.3% of the shots he attempted (and 67.3% of three-point attempts), yet he is arguably the greatest NBA player of all time. Jordan certainly wanted to make every shot – and probably believed he could – but that was never his goal. He simply wanted to get better with every shot and every game. If perfection were his ultimate goal, he was an abject failure.
- Learn with every step. The key to embracing weakness is to learn from our mistakes and failures, and we do that by attending to our errors immediately – as they occur. Brain research has identified two types of behaviors when a mistake is made. The first is ignoring the mistake and moving on. The problem with this approach is the likelihood of repeating the mistake. That’s why you’ll see PGA golfers take another swing when an approach shot goes astray. They want to recognize and feel the difference between a good swing and a bad swing. The bad swing is in their immediate consciousness. If they waited until after the round, they wouldn’t be able to compare the good and bad strokes. That approach by pro golfers exemplifies the second behavior type identified by researchers – focusing on the problem and determining how to correct it. Taken to its extreme, this idea of focusing on the problem can lead to “paralysis by analysis;” but as part of a well-rounded mindset it will help you use weaknesses as a foundation for growth and success.
So, what’s a better response to the “name your weakness” question? Be honest, be specific, and speak from the heart. How you answer the question is far more important than what you actually say. Plus, the fact that you can name a specific weakness – complemented with information about how you have or will overcome it – demonstrates comfort with introspection and critical thinking. It demonstrates the ability to see the big picture – the forest and the trees. And it demonstrates without a shadow of a doubt that your goal is to contribute to the greater good by continual assessment of your skills and an ongoing game plan for improvement. That’s as close to perfection as you can ever get.
(Excerpted and adapted from 20/20 Mind Sight.)
When I first started writing (way back before most of you were born), I worked at a manual typewriter. My fingers would tap the keys and every 10-12 words I’d slap the carriage return to slide over, advance the paper, and drop down to the next line. Mistakes required White-Out applied with a tiny brush or retyping the entire page.
When I was in my early twenties, I upgraded to a Smith-Corona electric model. At the time, it was a significant investment of money and affirmed to me that I was serious about writing. Except that I couldn’t write on it. It was a typing machine not a writing machine. There was something about the whirring of the tiny motor that sounded impatient. Like it was disappointed in me, nagging me to write faster. It was probably how a Lamborghini would feel if driven by a little old lady who never exceeded 20 MPH. The upshot was that I had to write by hand on paper and then type. It was decidedly inefficient – but it was how I wrote my first published book.
In 1982, I went to work at Wang Labs and discovered the magic of word processing. No more White-Out, no more having to retype entire manuscripts, and no more annoying whir. There was no looking back. My first computer was an all-in-one Kaypro that used the CP/M operating system, featured a 9-inch green monitor, and used 5-inch floppy disks. I used the WordStar word processing system that required embedding clumsy commands into the text for formatting – but it was a huge step forward.
After flirting with a few Windows machines, I became an Apple fan boy and would never willingly return to the Microsoft evil empire. So I now do all my writing on either my MacBook Air or iMac. My requisites are music and libations. The music varies from classic rock to the mellowness of singer-songwriters to the occasional hip-hop/rap tune. The libations begin with coffee in the morning, diet Coke and iced tea through the day, and a whiskey in the evening.
Few things in life are more satisfying to me than creating a clever/insightful/engaging turn of phrase. That probably sounds weird to some people, but I’m okay with that. I’ve longed come to accept my weirdness. Which, in itself, sounds weird.
The American philosopher William James often argued that human beings were blind “to the feelings of creatures and people different from ourselves.” It is this blindness that, if left unchecked, can progress from a simple preference for similar-looking/same-thinking people to ideological fanaticism.
Everyone is prejudiced to some degree. We may suppress those feelings from being outwardly expressed, or we may deny them even to ourselves. The key to keeping biases to a minimum is to turn off the personal filters that cloud judgment and focus instead on accepting other people’s realities. Acknowledge the differences and then accept, embrace and appreciate them.
The importance of personal reflection and self-knowledge to creating a blinders-free perspective cannot be overstated. People who truly know themselves and feel comfortable in their own skin tend to be the most open-minded – i.e., the most impartial and the least judgmental. They are confident about their own values and beliefs and, as a direct result, do not feel compelled to force those values and beliefs on others. On the other hand, people who have never delved deep inside to test and question their beliefs and values are far more likely to fear and denigrate the mass of others who do not look, sound, or act exactly like they do. These less reflective individuals are driven to persuade and/or punish the “others” to accept and validate their particular worldview. It’s “my way or the highway” for those whose self-knowledge is constrained by ideology and indoctrination – as well as a lack of general curiosity about and appreciation for the larger world around them. Their life’s journey consists of a single track in the shape of a circle. They go round and round seeing the same things over and over again. And the more they see those same things, the more partial they become towards them.
This circular journey drives the why in every terror attack and hate crime, and it’s the why that becomes the focus of law enforcement and the media in the immediate aftermath. Why would this or that seemingly normal person turn into a senseless killer? Why attack so randomly knowing that many innocent people (including children) will be among the dead and injured? The focus is on the search for a specific cause – a specific rationale – ranging from Islamic jihad to ethno-centric separatism to religious fundamentalism, homophobia, and pure racism.
Whatever the “specific” cause, the root cause is unequivocally indoctrination followed by blind faith to a person, organization or orthodoxy. Blind faith refers to beliefs that are held without true understanding, reasoned discrimination, or experiential proof. While an argument can be made that all “faith” is “blind” by definition, let’s focus on the articles of faith that serve to dehumanize and engender hate.
Take a moment to consider your most deeply held beliefs, and then focus on those that originated from an external source. The beliefs you hold because you were taught to hold them. Examples might include the belief that women are subservient (and belong in the kitchen and out of the boardroom), homosexuality is an abomination (and gay marriage will destroy traditional marriage), Muslims are terrorists (and shouldn’t be allowed to build mosques in “our” neighborhood), Jews are stingy and greedy (and plotting to take over the world), and Mexicans are lazy (and so we have to build an electrified fence on our southern border to keep them out and stop them from taking our jobs). No one – and I truly mean no one – ever derived these beliefs on his or her own. They are the result of indoctrination by one or more of the groups we belong to (family, school, church, friends, etc.), and the lack of a questioning mindset of our own.
Our educational, corporate and community institutions have trained us to repeat and regurgitate. Introspection and personal reflection are unvalued, ignored, discouraged or – in extreme cases – punished. We’ve become a world of blind followers with little insight into our personal character, and our society suffers as a result.
Most people believe what they’ve been taught to believe. They do what other people tell them to do, and say what others expect them to say. That’s why the “lives of quiet desperation” that Thoreau described are so prevalent today and why civil discourse has been replaced with the coarse language of divisiveness and disdain.
Few people take this blind faith to the extreme of the Orlando and Charleston shooters, the Istanbul bombers, or the maniacal truck driver in Nice; but we all suffer from it. The only way to truly overcome and eliminate blind faith – and the indoctrination that nurtures it – is to focus on personal reflection and self-knowledge. If you can’t explain what you believe, then you don’t truly “believe” it. You’ve simply been taught to believe it.
Adapted from content in 20/20 Mind Sight by Phil Fragasso and Jillian Vorce.
As the Republican and Democratic conventions approach, some things are certain. We’ll hear a lot of soaring rhetoric and teeth-gnashing. We’ll see more pomp than a Kardashian Instagram feed. And we’ll be fed a steady stream of hyperbole, cherry-picked factoids, and outright lies. Mark Twain famously observed that politicians would never lie “unless it was absolutely convenient;” and the Irish novelist Elizabeth Bowen told us, “Nobody speaks the truth when there is something they must have.” (Every politician, of course, must win his/her election for the sake of the country.)
Twain and Bowen are both implying that people apply a situational definition to honesty and integrity. True character, however, allows for no compromise on honesty. Trustworthiness is not something you can compartmentalize and turn on or off at will. You can’t be trustworthy in some aspects of your life but not in others. We are either trustworthy or we’re not. We’re either a rock or a pile of shifting sand. People either know they can count on us or we are doomed to disappoint them. It’s an all-or-nothing proposition.
A basic tenet of Hinduism says, “If you speak the truth long enough, your word becomes universal law.” Every time you demonstrate trust, you strengthen and enhance the public recognition of your integrity. That in turn leads to the ultimate goal of transforming the concept of trust into a practical reality. In a very real sense, trust becomes you and you become trust.
Think long and hard and try to remember the last politician who exuded trust as a core attribute. They may say, “trust me,” but provide no basis for doing so. And it’s not just politicians. Trust and honesty are characteristics that elude most of us.
Several years ago a former colleague – let’s call her Kristen – was engaged in a compensation dispute with her boss, the CEO of the company. It was a classic he-said/she-said situation. Here’s the scenario in brief. The company was rolling out a new compensation program and when the CEO explained the specifics of her target amount, Kristen said it was insufficient and substantially lower than her peers. She suggested that she and the company part amicably rather than engage in a pissing contest. The CEO quickly agreed that Kristen’s package was lower than her colleagues and assured her that the discrepancy would be adjusted by a certain date. Just as they had done on previous occasions, they shook hands on the deal.
When the agreed-upon date arrived, the extra compensation did not arrive along with it. The CEO acknowledged his earlier assurances but stated it was now out of his hands. Kristen was justifiably upset. The additional compensation was being paid out to her colleagues and she was low girl on the totem pole. She offered to resign and not make a fuss as long as she was paid the amount she was due. The CEO warned that she was going down a slippery slope and said the discussion was over.
Kristen subsequently sued the company and endured a bitter legal battle. The company’s other employees were forced to take a position – either side with the company and ostracize their colleague, or side with Kristen and potentially face retribution from management. All of this position-taking, however, was done with no one knowing the facts of the matter. And because it was a legal matter, Kristen was unable to share any non-public information. Instead, she would simply make the same statement to anyone who inquired: “Only two people know the truth. One of us is lying. You decide who.” That statement usually engendered a smirk and a knowing nod. Kristen had spent her entire career building a reputation for integrity, frankness, and honest dealing. She felt confident that the vast majority of people would look at the two parties and be hard-pressed to identify any instance where Kristen had ever said or done anything that could remotely be construed as untoward or deceitful.
I share this story to ask if you would be confident in declaring that “One of us is lying” and leaving the determination to others. Even more importantly, as election season is about to go into high gear, can you identify a candidate who could confidently, and without a trace of irony, make that same declaration? Can you imagine a debate stage in September or October when the presidential and vice-presidential candidates might point at their opponent and state, “One of us is lying. You decide.” It won’t happen and it can’t happen, because lying has become the hallmark of American politics.
The best we could hope for would be a candidate to look straight into the camera and say this: “We’re both lying. It’s your job to decide which of us is lying less.” That’s how far our political debate has declined but, in the parlance of the day, it is what it is. So, in the absence of true integrity, the best we can do is weigh one candidate’s mendacity against the other’s perfidiousness – and may the least deceitful win.
I write therefore I am. I am therefore I write. One or the other.
A dear friend passed away on Tuesday. She’d been battling cancer for several years and leaves her husband and two teenage children. One of my college buddies died in March. He’d been with a bunch of us at the Breeders Cup in Kentucky last October telling jokes, drinking bourbon, and celebrating life. His wife found him dead on the couch from a heart attack. Another close friend, who I’ve known for over 40 years, almost died last year and still faces serious medical issues.
I could on but I can’t. I won’t. One of my favorite quotes is from the Ceylonese philosopher, Ananda Coomaraswamy: “I’d rather die ten years too early than ten minutes too late.” The more cynical interpretation of that statement might point to the lives of Joe Paterno and Bill Cosby – men who were idolized until their terrible secrets were revealed.
But that’s not how I interpret the quote. I’d rather be the first to go than the last. Saying goodbye to loved ones, watching their bodies wither away and suffer with pain, and seeing their mental abilities diminish with each passing day – those are the agonizing moments that are much harder to bear than any we experience for ourselves.
The flipside argument, of course, is that I’m being selfish. My passing would create pain for those left behind – so am I saying I’d rather have them suffer than me?
I actually don’t know the answer. All I know is that I miss my deceased friends and I worry about the living. So, please, everyone stay healthy and strong – and live everyday as though it might be the last.