Tag: narcissism

Researchers have recently announced a corollary to the “dark triad” that marks extreme psychopathy and criminal behavior. The “dark triad”, as you may have encountered in school or from outside reading, represents the worst of humanity: Narcissism, Psychopathy, and Machiavellianism. These are the Hannibal Lectors and Jeff Dahmers and mobsters of our world. They are self absorbed people, with low empathy, who are antisocial and manipulative. Not all of them are criminals, but they still damage those around them. As Wikipedia summarizes well: “People scoring high on these traits are more likely to commit crimes, cause social distress and create severe problems for an organization, especially if they are in leadership positions.”

What then is the “light triad”? Authors Kaufman and colleagues have developed a “light triad scale”:

The LTS is a first draft measure of a loving and beneficent orientation toward others (“everyday saints”) that consists of three facets: Kantianism (treating people as ends unto themselves), Humanism (valuing the dignity and worth of each individual), and Faith in Humanity (believing in the fundamental goodness of humans).

The three major categories noted above were mapped against other paradigms such as the Big 5 personality traits, and compared with the dark triad. On the religiosity tests they found that “religious and spiritual people are more likely to also be high scorers on the Light Triad scale.”

I found the following data to be interesting:

The Light Triad was positively correlated with Oneness Experiences and God Experiences, and these correlations remained significant even after controlling for the facets of Agreeableness and Honesty-Humility. The Dark Triad was also positively correlated with Oneness Experiences, and this correlation remained significant even after controlling for the facets of Agreeableness and Honesty-Humility. The Dark Triad was uncorrelated with God Experiences.

As an exercise, I decided to pair each positive trait with a biblical passage that represents the trait in question.

1. Kantianism (treating people as ends unto themselves)

”You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:39)

2. Humanism (valuing the dignity and worth of each individual)

So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:27-28)

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. (Romans 12:15-18)

3. Faith in Humanity (believing in the fundamental goodness of humans).

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. (John 3:16)

But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

I would offer a point of objection that these labels smuggle in a worldview of humanism that isn’t perfectly aligned with Christianity. Christians can be and have been humanists, but certainly “fundamental goodness of humanity” would have to be phrased in a more nuanced way. We could as equally affirm the fundamental evil of humanity. Christianity teaches neither—We generally embrace the idea of an original goodness that has been tarnished or lost, but can be restored again. God has a love that is always seeking reconciliation, and is intended for all manner of people, transcending the puny boundaries of culture, gender, and race.

As Christians we are also to radiate this love. We are to love one another as God has loved us. “Walk in love as Christ loved us…” says the old Book of Common Prayer, echoing Ephesians 5:2. Nevertheless, we are called to love not blindly (by pretending that something is what it isn’t), but rather to love as God does, despite the flaws of that love’s object. And we are to realize the sacrificial nature of love. The rest of the phrase goes like this: “…and gave himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God.” By the way, the very definition of Christian love, “agape” in the original Greek, means not merely to be self effacing, but primarily to be other-enhancing.

Furthermore, a word to parents. From a Christian perspective, the goal of parenting is not shepherding your children into the right colleges, teaching them to survive in business, or making sure they want for nothing. “Bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” says Paul (in Ephesians, 6:4). A good portion of that task is character development.

For further reading

Wikipedia: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_triad

Kessler, SR; Bandeiii, AC; Spector, PE; Borman, WC; Nelson, CE; and Penney, LM 2010. Reexamining Machiavelli: A three dimensional model of Machiavellianism in the workplace. Journal of Applied Social Psychology, 40, 1868–1896

Schley, Lacey, April 5, 2019, “The Light Triad: Psychologists Outline the Personality Traits of Everyday Saints”, Discover Magazine.
Online at http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/crux/2019/04/05/light-triad-traits/#.XMM8ShYpCEf

Kaufman, SB, et al, “The Light vs. Dark Triad of Personality: Contrasting Two Very Different Profiles of Human Nature”,
Front. Psychol., 12 March 2019. Online at https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2019.00467/full

Bible references are from the New Revised Standard Version.

image
(photo by “R4vi” from London, UK, obtained from Wikimedia Commons and used in accordance with Creative Commons 2.0 license)

“Would you like me to take a picture for you?” I asked a group of 20 somethings, who seemed to be struggling to get a picture. I was at the Grand Canyon, snapping photos with my family. “No thanks,” one replied, “we’ve got a selfie stick.”

At every turnout, the magnificent colors and jagged contours of the canyon were a backdrop for people who seemed to be standing, alone or in groups, wielding their telescopic wands with smartphones stuck on the end. It looks goofy to my old fashioned eyes (I still lug a cumbersome DSLR around when I go to places like the Grand Canyon). But I must grant that it is simple and effective. It’s a brilliant invention. I will probably own one at some point.

The selfie stick has exploded in popularity in the past couple years. “Invented” in 2014 (though similar devices date from many years ago), it is now ubiquitous. The selfie is ubiquitous. According to Travel Weekly, 300 million selfies have been uploaded to Instagram as of June 2015. Never has snapping a pic of yourself been easier.

And just like that, one more way of interacting with others is gone. No one needs an outside person to stop and do an act of kindness–“no thank you, we have a selfie stick.”

As a society this may be seen as emblematic of a fundamental problem with our growing addiction to mobile technology: as individuals we are self absorbed (these tools have apparently been dubbed “narcissticks” according to this New York Times editorial), and some would say that we now have a “selfie culture”. Technology has allowed us to become increasingly disengaged from others, even as ironically we are addicted to the facebook posts and Twitter feeds of countless “friends” scattered across the globe. Unless we fight it, our focus is ever drawn down into our devices, into an endless reverberation of our own likes, thoughts, and desires.

By the way, I mean it when I say “we”–I am no cyber saint here. I must cry “mea culpa” as well: I take selfies. I have had dates with my wife in which I can’t resist the urge to get out my iPhone–and that isn’t because she is not lovely and interesting (she is!). My own kids tend to spend most of their vacation days looking at their devices regardless of how breathtaking the scenery around them may be.

If this self absorption is a problem, it is not new. Self-centeredness is a primordial element of the human story (recall the tale of that wretched apple seized by a man who wanted God’s knowledge for himself). The selfie is but a new and more democratic iteration of the time honored self portrait, or the bust, or the thrill of being on-stage. Although, given its intentional impermanence and nonchalance, it might be more accurate to say that the selfie is reminiscent more of “Kilroy was here”, scratched on pixels rather than walls (variants of this sort of thing can be found in antiquity). It is humans saying, “look! I was here! I matter!”

This brings suddenly to my recollection the fallen statue of King Ozymandias, whose decaying selfie was powerfully memorialized by poet Percy Bysshe Shelley:

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: `Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear —
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.’

Most of us (fortunately) aren’t tyrants. We know that our selfies are destined for nowhere glorious. Our “friends” will glance past them in a microsecond, or maybe linger long enough to click the “like” button. If really fortunate maybe someone will pause and comment, perhaps just to say, “OMG I was at the Canyon a week ago!” Then they will move on. It will take seconds, not centuries, for the significance of the selfie moment to fade. We know this but can’t resist the urge to keep doing it. It is the way of the self absorbed. It is our way. “Look, I was here. I matter!”

This is why Christians have a story to tell. Have you become a Christian? Have you been adopted into God’s family? If so, you matter, because you have God as an audience. When you become a Christian, your cosmic portrait will never fade. Unlike your snapshot of yourself against the Grand Canyon, you won’t disappear from God’s in-basket in a few minutes. Your name won’t be blotted from the great Book of Life.

But, the next time you are at the Grand Canyon or Niagara Falls or wherever, if you see a handsome bearded 40-something with a charming family approach you at a scenic overlook, don’t run. Instead take pity on us and agree to snap our picture. I’ll show you how my clunky DSLR camera works.