The Self?
For my part, when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a perception and never can observe any thing but the perception. When my perceptions are removâd for any time, as by sound-sleep; so long am I insensible of myself, and my truly be said not to exist. (Hume, 1969, p. 300, emphasis original)
In the quotation above, the skeptical Scottish philosopher David Hume presents his most visceral argument against the reality of the âself.â The fundamentals of his argument for the nonexistence of the self generally agree with Buddhist tenets (e.g., Mathur, 1978), though Hume drew very different ethical principles from this analysis. The analysis also agrees with Williams James analysis of the stream of thought (James, 1950; now usually referred to as the âstream of consciousnessâ after the literary technique, e.g., Joyce, 1990). James, however, was more positive about the practical existence of a sense of personal identity we might usually call âthe self.â Largely, this overarching concept is what the philosopher and cognitive scientist Daniel Dennett refers to as the âself as the center of narrative gravityâ (Dennett, 1992). From this viewpoint, the self is an âillusionâ that helps to glue our perceptual experiences together (cf., Dennettâs excellent philosophical short story, âWhere am I,â Dennett, 1978).
For the purposes of this discussion, we take a Jamesian line that the self is practically real (cf., James, 2003). That is, the idea of the self has practical consequences. The self is an organizing principle for an individualâs perceptions, experiences, for his or her life. While it may not be metaphysically real as a kind of âsubstance,â the self is real as a kind of knowledge structure; in fact, the largest structure of the entire cognitive system, encompassing all knowledge and experience that is personally relevant into a self-concept (e.g., Nowak, Vallacher, Tesser, & Borkowski, 2000). In general, this is also largely consistent with the Jungian conception of the self as the largest organizing principle of the psyche (cf., Stevens, 1994), though the âselfâ has deep metaphysical, nearly religious overtones in Jungian psychology that need not concern us here. The need to understand this self-concept is the essence of the present chapter. Below, I will outline the process of deep self-understanding, in the sense of achieving high self-concept clarity, helps to solidify a person as a leader.
Vision as a Reflection of the Self
As described above, it is important for leaders to understand themselves to be effective, otherwise chaos may result from their attempts to guide, persuade, and influence others. For instance, consider this account of US President Donald Trumpâs decision to withdraw from the Paris climate agreement1: âThe speech was striking in its demonstration of how Trump has melded his self-conception to his vision of the nation he leads,â (Waldman, 2017). Trump gives every appearance of being psychologically shallow; he seems to lack self-awareness, existing as a creature of gut instinct and erratic egotism (McAdams, 2016), so there may be no particular design in matching his vision of the United States so closely with his own personality. Leaders do, however, seem to imprint their personality into an organizationâs culture (cf., Berson, Oreg, & Dvir, 2008; OâReilly, Caldwell, Chatman, & Doerr, 2014). That is, CEOs, and especially founders, tend to craft organizations that reflect their values and priorities.
Trump, or any other leader with a so-called âpersonality cultâ around them, is emblematic of another interesting feature of leadership: leaders are highly salient in human groups (cf., Henrich & Gil-White, 2001). That is, people are prone to pay attention to their leaders. As societal reference points in this way, one important function that leaders provide is sense-making (Pye, 2005). In this function, leaders help their followers to create a story or model for (some aspect of) the world, especially new, confusing, or unanticipated events or experiences (Maitlis & Christianson, 2014; Weick, 1995). This story or model, and moreover its integration into a larger goal or goals, is precisely what we mean by the word vision.
And visionâa leaderâs articulation of a picture of the future, a direction for their group to work towardâis, at least for many writers, the critical component separating leadership from ordinary management (e.g., Isaacson, 2011; Rowe, 2001; cf., Drucker, 2008). In contrast, âmanagersâ technically or bureaucratically implement the means of pursuing the goals manifest in the vision (e.g., Rowe, 2001). Each of these elements is critical for effective strategic leadership (Rowe, 2001); the expression, âa bird needs two wings to fly,â is a clichĂ© for a reason.
To continue the above example, as he gives no evidence for possessing a clear understanding of himself and his values or core beliefs, Trumpâs candidacy and presidency has been described, even by conservative commentators, as chaotic (Goldberg, 2017) or unmoored (Will, 2015). There is no clear overarching vision (Graham, 2018), so policy is informed primarily by Trumpâs idiosyncratic and fleeting perceptions and in-the-moment needs. Specifically, the lack of vision impairs even technocratic-managerial implementation, despite installing an apparently effective manager, in John Kelly, as chief-of-staff (Baker & Haberman, 2017). Such failures contrast with successful instances of strategic leadership, such as Apple during the period where CEO Steve Jobs supplied vision and COO Tim Cook took care of managerial implementation (the two roles need not be present in one person, cf., Isaacson, 2011; Rowe, 2001).
These contrasting examples hopefully help to paint a clear picture of what leaders (contra managers or administrators) doâthey present a vision of what their social group should do; they give a goal to pursue or a destination to drive toward. But that function does not, in itself, give a strong indication about who fulfills the leadership role. Questions about what sort of person can be a great leader date to antiquity. Answers have differed throughout history. In the 20th and 21st century, the influence of psychology has helped to place the focus on personal characteristics of the individuals inhabiting leadership roles (e.g., Bass, 1990; cf., Burns, 1978). This particular turn, though perhaps surprising to behaviorists and 19th century sociologists, would probably be a considered normal to the pre-Socratic philosopher Heraclitus, who opined that character is destiny (Heraclitus, n.d.).
One prominent idea is that great leaders often have a nearly unshakeable faith in themselves (Hogan & Warrenfeltz, 2003; cf., Lilienfeld et al., 2012). These leaders clearly know what they want and what they care about. They have a clear identity, in that they have clear goals and values (Hogan & Warrenfeltz, 2003; Kaiser, Hogan, & Craig, 2008). As an example, biographer Walter Isaacson presented a portrait of the late Apple cofounder and CEO Steve Jobs as a man of strong beliefs and exacting standards for himself and others (Isaacson, 2011).
The most fundamental skills that a would-be leader must master are intrapersonal skills (Hogan & Warrenfeltz, 2003)âit is almost axiomatic that effective leaders know their own characters and motivations clearly. Hogan and Warrenfeltz argued that, of all the domains of skills that a manager needs (intrapersonal, interpersonal, leadership, and business skills), that intrapersonal skills are foundational and are the most difficult to develop, and therefore require considerable effort and time. In this chapter, we will argue that self-concept clarity is a useful conceptual tool for examining this self-knowledge and placing individualsâ careers and ascent into leadership roles into con...