When you want the last piece of cake, do you grab it? No, you suppress your greedy urge and ask, “Would anybody like the last piece?” A “good” person wants just a little, never too much.
When a rival at work asks, “You seem a bit behind on that assignment, do you need some help?” do you reveal your fear about missing a deadline and accept the offer? Not likely. You say, “I’ve got it under control, thanks anyway.”
When your spouse or romantic partner suggests you do an activity together that you don’t like, do you answer with a straightforward, “No”? More likely you suggest a different activity, and you couch it in terms of what your partner might prefer to do – after all, you are only thinking of their happiness!
We speak in these strange ways because we all wear a social mask. Your mask is how you manipulate the perceptions of others so that they see you as you want them to see you and not as you truly are. We do this every day in a thousand ways. We can’t help it. We have been trained by our parents, our teachers, our friends and our culture that give us our manners and morals. In fact the main point of manners and morals is to mask our unacceptable, willful urges and our constant engagement in the power plays of life. If you stand in the middle of the crowd and boldly declare your will, try to grab power whenever you can, and never consider the needs of others – as some people do – you might rise to the top as a dictator or business mogul. But more likely you will just find it hard to make friends, keep a job, or find anyone who wants to be with you. We wear the mask given by our culture to conceal our true face. We do it so that we can tolerate each other’s company, get along, and cooperate in society.
As you mature in life your mask becomes like an elegantly sculpted work of art that you are constantly shaping for use in life’s power plays. It becomes much more sophisticated than a mere cover for your desires. Your mask also includes anything else you’ve discovered that makes you more capable of getting what you want. So while some masks present extreme kindness and politeness, others take the form of exaggerated confidence, intimidating aggression, or pitiful victimhood (we will explore the latter in depth in Chapter Nine).
Because of this mask, you experience odd contradictions between what you express and what you actually feel:
You express admiration, while you’re filled with distain and envy.
You obey, while you are filled with resentment.
You express respect towards a powerful leader or authority, while you long to rebel.
You say that you love someone, then when they displease you, you turn vengeful and violent.
You express friendliness and affection, while jealousy lurks within, waiting for an opportunity of weakness to take that friend down through gossip, sabotage, or abandonment.
You condemn miscreants who give in to their base desires, while inwardly you crave forbidden pleasures – and perhaps you fulfill them in secret. (Think of the surprising number of moralizing, anti-gay politicians and preachers who get caught having homosexual affairs.)
As you become more cultured and more refined, you discover you can less afford to expose your willful self: that second piece of cake, that wish to rebel, that hidden craving. A “good” person doesn’t want too much, just a little. Only the uncouth, the bad guys, want explicitly, unashamedly and crudely. So one consequence of living with your mask on all the time is that you become habituated to thinking of yourself as powerful enough to play but never too powerful. Wearing the mask, you diminish yourself.
A brilliant new book by E.O. Wilson, the father of sociobiology, attempts to explain morality from a biological point of view. His theory explains the bind we feel when our mask forces us to diminish our power even as we inwardly long for complete expression of our wills. Wilson’s thesis is that social insects – bees, termites and ants – are the most successful creatures on earth (in terms of total body mass, termites outweigh any other species on the planet). What is significant, Wilson writes, is that humans are the only non-insect life forms to have made the evolutionary leap to complex social organization – and we’ve done it in just the last 10,000 years. Wilson believes this is the reason for our dominance on earth today. Morality, he claims, is the social imperative that evolved to put the good of the “hive” before the selfish needs of the individual. If you look at what we consider virtues, he notes, our “good” qualities are all forms of service to others: altruism, kindness, honesty, fairness, courage, mercy, helpfulness, prudence, self-control…the list goes on. If you look at the vices, these “bad” qualities simply are the urges that promote individual survival and expansion: cowardice, greed, sexual indulgence, envy, cheating, boasting, and selfishness – just to name a few.
Of course, this is not what religions, social law and morality have taught us. For thousands of years, we have been taught that there’s a spiritual battle going on inside us, a battle between two different parts: the darkness and the light, the good and the bad, the angel and the demon. This divides us within ourselves, and we come to believe that the bad part is something that must be repressed. The moral goal of these teachings? To attain a world in which good prevails over evil, where humans are all kind and fair and sweet all the time. Wilson, however, concludes something different. He believes humans will never become fully “good” creatures because we must balance these two opposing forces within ourselves: genetics drives us towards selfishness, while cultural training drives us towards promoting the group. Both good and bad are necessary, he concludes, in order for each of us to thrive as individuals living in society.
Wilson’s theory is largely compatible with our perspective that people are walking wills. Our evolution as social beings has greatly expanded our species power, while at the same time creating more and more opportunities for individuals to express their personal power. However, Wilson’s biological analysis affirms this basic dualism that leaves us paralyzed between the opposing forces of good and evil. This is because he looks at human evolution only from the outside. From the inside, we can look at human history and see that the good part in humans does not merely stand in opposition to the bad part. Instead, we see good as emerging from the bad part: the wish for peace is the result of tireless wars; the enlightened mind of the Buddha is the result of suffering and ignorance; the longing for true love springs from plain desire and infatuation. Morality itself did not just appear out of nowhere. It evolved from the conflicting and competing struggles of early societies as a wish for order, and the kinds of mutual agreements that allowed our ancestors to trust one another beyond their tribal clans. One very recent example of this is how Europe nearly destroyed itself in two World Wars in the last century, only to emerge in the 21st century as a peaceful European Union with values of tolerance, cooperation and collaboration.
The surprising insight from all of this is that your bad part is not the opposite of your good part. On the contrary, the good in you is the maturation and the transformation of your “evil” side. Good evolves from bad. The two don’t flow from different rivers, one black and one white, that never merge. Instead they come from a common spring. They are not an angel and a demon each sitting on a different shoulder. The good and bad in you come from the exact same stuff: the raw energy of life that creates your urges and desires and your will. There is no moral dualism, just one continuum of energy that includes all the bits we label “good” and “evil.”
From this perspective, it’s vital to embrace and even love the evil within: the unkind, selfish, even wicked parts of yourself. The reason is simple: if you push them into the darkness and let them suffocate and die away, you end up having very little energy, and very little energy means very little inner power for growth and transformation. This view may frighten those who believe a firm moral code is essential for people to live together in peace. But we don’t see this as a contradiction. One can accept morality as an intrinsic and necessary part of culture while still embracing the reality and value of all those untamed forces and energies that live inside you, behind your mask.
We believe the perspective that good evolves from bad opens new channels for authentic moral development and growth. This is because the raw material of the “bad,” selfish, primal urges flowing in you is exactly what can create your most powerful, positive, compassionate, and courageous qualities. Your “bad” needs to flow without resistance if it is to stretch out and transform. This includes your murderous impulses and fantasies, the forbidden regions of your sexuality, and the secret hatreds and jealousies you have covered up that fester in your heart. The problem with conventional attitudes to morality is that by making “bad” into a metaphysical evil to be shunned, they stop up the flow; instead of transforming, you get energetically stuck and then become morally stunted. When obedience becomes the definition of moral, you are left “trying to be good” by living up to an imposed external standard. When the pressure becomes too much, the dam bursts and you act out your worst impulses.
I (Tim) experienced this in my first marriage. For three years I had struggled to rise above my wife’s sexual frigidity as a spiritual, moral man. I had been completely invested in becoming my mask – to be good, not to want too much. Then something snapped and I became a different person, one capable of having clandestine sexual affairs. Suddenly I was living a Jekyll-and-Hyde type of existence. My hidden lustful, willful self was out of the cage. “It” caused a lot of pain to my family, my young son, and to people I loved. But the point to the story is that my “Mr. Hyde” began to evolve. It wanted integration with the rest of my life. Ironically, when I first met my second wife, Teresa, she found my willful, lustful self refreshingly authentic. Gradually this formerly shut-away part of myself has changed. “It” has become “me,” and this once-twisted energy has turned into my capacity to love.
Where does this leave you with your own mask? The goal here is not to remove your mask and live a life of wild and willful abandon. I (Shai) often have people tell me in therapy they harbor the dream of one day becoming completely their “true self,” expressing exactly what they feel and doing exactly what their urge tells them to do. As long as they don’t get this ultimate wish fulfilled, they express a grudging sense of oppression. Sometimes this verges on the absurd: one young woman who loves participating in Shamanic rituals (in which people consume a psychoactive plant) got really offended one day when she came to visit her parents. Her father took her to the kitchen, and asked her gently not to mention these rituals while her aunt – a conservative and easily agitated woman – was also in the house. This woman used this story as a proof that her family wouldn’t accept her true self! If you choose to be part of culture, you have to forgo the fantasy that the world will embrace all that your willful self wants to express.
The essential message of this chapter is to accept the compromise made between the primordial wish and culture. You want to wear the mask while becoming fully aware of who you really are behind it. Wear, and be aware. Literally make friends with your willful self, rather than seeing it as an enemy you must suppress or as an “it” that is somehow separate from you, not part of your complete nature. This exercise will strengthen you in integrating your willful nature into your sense of self:
This practice requires you to keep a notebook with two columns: one for your “bad” part, in which you will write down all your bad thoughts and impulses, and one for your “good” part, in which you will write down all your good deeds and impulses. After a week or two, read through the bad column and see if the items you have written there actually have a potential for something. Remember, your “bad” energy is abundant energy; it seeks direction and transformation. Can you accept that you contain that energy? Can you embrace it rather than block it off? How could you actually use that energy for further growth? Close your eyes for a minute and feel how these two forces labeled “good’ and “bad” are actually one force running through you, gradually becoming pure energy and pure power.
Together with this reflection you can practice expressing your wills and desires more simply and honestly, letting others see behind your mask. Don’t try to play games. Don’t make others think that you say one thing while you really want another thing. You have to do this carefully: express yourself in a non-forceful way. Just express your will to let it be there, in the open, but don’t turn it into a violent demand. This is about revealing your true face, not about unleashing your inner dictator! If you want sex from your partner, don’t use elusive body language and don’t create awkward situations just because you’re afraid of the humiliation of rejection. Say plainly: “I have to tell you, I’m overwhelmingly attracted to you right now and I’d love to have sex with you.” If you really need a hug from a friend, don’t freeze out the feeling and become even more distant. Say: “I really, really need a hug right now. Would you be there for me for a moment?”
Now let’s examine the aspect of your mask that pretends to show that you are strong when in fact you are weak. Think of this scene from a thousand movies: someone mistakenly or intentionally kills someone else, and then rushes to bury the body in a place unknown, usually in the dead of night, quickly before the police find out. That’s why we call this second function of mask wearing, bury the body! When you’re weak, you need to bury the body of your humiliating defeat.
What happens in a pack when the alpha wolf gets old or injured? The beta wolves challenge, attack and defeat it. Something in us instinctively fears this could happen to us if we were to reveal our weaknesses, our forced retreat from areas of failure. Looking too weak in a world of constant power plays seems dangerous. It’s not as if you can never disclose even the slightest sign of weakness, but you definitely cannot be considered weak for too long. So your mask is not only an efficient way to conceal your wills. It also serves as a protective shield that helps you to pretend you’re powerful enough to withstand the pressures and demands of life. This is why we expend a lot of energy trying to convince those around us that we almost always win, that we are walking a pathway towards success. And if we ever walked away it is because we quit the game, not because the game defeated us. Here’s how we do this:
First, we cover the tracks of our replacements:
“It’s not that I’m afraid of relationships, I’m just taking some time out for ‘me.’” Or, “I’m pursuing a higher spiritual path,” or, “I’ve chosen to devote myself fully to my career,” or, “The people around me are too boring to interest me.”
“They didn’t fire me – I lost interest in my job long ago, and I wanted to be let go!” Or, “They didn’t offer enough opportunity and I needed to move on,” or, “This job was stifling my creativity, and now I can devote myself to my art!”
Second, we disguise our compensations so others will think they are a description of reality, and not just our consoling interpretation:
“I believe that my disease has a higher purpose as part of God’s plan.” Or, “I know that this disease plays a major role in my development and learning. It’s the best thing that has ever happened to me!”
Third, we camouflage our revenge-wishes (in so far as we are conscious of them) so that they sound like reasonable corrections and a cosmic rebalancing in order to create a better world – and not a primitive desire for release through vengeance:
“I believe that when my father sees my forthcoming success, he will learn to appreciate the real ‘me.’ Then he will correct his mistaken view that I’m a disappointment. That will help us reach a new level of harmony and healing in our relationship.”
With your mask firmly in place, you can appear dignified even in your worst moments of humiliation, confident in your most embarrassing times of frailty, and reasonable even when you’re in your most irrational states. This is why, for example, some people turn to rage when they are exposed in their weakness. Rage is still an expression of power and it can serve to cover up their wounded self. I (Tim) recently came to grips with this in one area of my life: my sense of direction. I’ve travelled a lot, and I pride myself in my sense of direction. Whenever my wife doubts me when we are driving or walking through a strange city, I get really offended, as if I’m an infallible compass. “How dare you doubt me!” is my attitude. The fact of the matter is, I am sometimes wrong: 180 degrees wrong. And when I am wrong, it is very hard to admit it, and so sometimes we wander for quite awhile, me insisting I know exactly where I am going even when I really don’t.
So, what’s the result of wearing the mask of power? You exert a lot of energy pretending that you feel what you don’t really feel, and that you don’t feel what you really feel. In the end, you end up thinking your powerful mask is who you really are, but inside you still feel you are weak (and in Tim’s case, lost). You gradually detach from your actual reality: the reality of your will as well as the reality of your weakness. In this way, you can no longer be connected to your healthy willfulness and be simple about it. And since your mask is so busy denying any feeling of weakness, you can no longer get in touch with your weakness and learn from it one of the most important lessons that life has to offer.
This is how you can loosen the grip of the mask on your face and be more connected to the actual, vibrant you: use less manipulation and be more straightforward about your desires and defeats. When I (Tim) learned to admit to my wife that I’d lost my way, she never berated me. In fact, she always appreciated it when I dropped my infallible compass act, because then we could work together to figure out which way to go. So learn to acknowledge your weaknesses simply and honestly. Be careful: don’t use this as an opportunity for further manipulation, to make people pity you. When you face defeat, just say it without making excuses for your failure. Here are four ways you can get started:
Concede an argument. Whenever you sense the person you are arguing with actually has a strong point, stop arguing. Say: “Oh, I see what you mean. You are right and I was wrong. Thanks.”
Admit losing hurts. If you are defeated in a game or a sport or suffer a setback at work, just be honest with the winner about how it hurts. “Wow, you really beat me badly. What a blow to my ego!”
Accept when someone refuses to do you a favor. Resist wheedling, arguing, guilt-tripping, or pondering what’s gone wrong with the relationship. You are not the one with all the power, so accept it. “You don’t want to help me move furniture? Well, I guess I’ll find someone else.”
Point out your own mistakes. Stop covering up for yourself, hoping no one will notice. Make no excuses. Accept the blame without defending yourself. “I forgot to file that report before the deadline. Sorry, this is my mistake.”
Put these into practice consistently and conscientiously. They probably go against your habitual tendencies, so you will have to be deliberate about it. Notice when you say these things how this breaks the tension, and releases much positive energy that you now can use for other purposes. Also notice how those around you react. Do they find it more enjoyable to be around someone who does not insist on being infallible and invincible all the time? Do they actually like you better without your mask?
Will you find yourself saying…
“My mask says ‘no,’ but my will says ‘yes.’ But this is not a moral struggle that divides me into ‘good’ and ‘bad’ parts. How can I use this current tension to become more conscious of my willful nature –to wear and be aware?”
“I don’t fool myself into thinking I’m a ‘good person.’ There’s a strong will behind my mask, and I can use all that energy for inner power.”
“Hey, can I tell you what I really want right now?”
“You were right and I was wrong. Thanks for pointing that out.”