DREAMS CAN COME TRUE . . . AND OTHER FORMS OF SELF-DECEPTION

From a purely statistical perspective, there should be no debate, no argument, no doubting whatsoever the simple fact that dreams do not come true for 99.9999 per cent of the population. And that’s a conservative estimate. In the meantime, the 0.0001 per cent of people fortunate enough to become, say, a movie star or a pop icon tirelessly blabber that if their fans just believed in themselves, then their dreams, too, can come true. Which is obviously not true. Because often their fans’ dreams are similarly about fame and fortune, neither of which is even remotely likely when they can’t sing, can’t act, can’t dance and look like a normal person. And even if they can sing, can act, can dance and look spectacular, there’s very little room at the apex of superstardom for all the desperate wannabes. This isn’t just about the entertainment industry, of course. Billionaires fool budding investors; CEOs entice up-and-coming managers; business titans lure new entrepreneurs; presidents tantalise political aspirants. In every case, dreamers are made to believe first in their dreams, and then in themselves, leading to a stubborn case of self-deception.

Which isn’t to say that dreams should be unpursued. They’re fine so long as they’re limited to giving their conjurer something to focus on rather than something to obsess over. It’s the latter that frequently leads to self-deception; why would you invest every ounce of energy, and sacrifice so much of what you value, unless you had deceived yourself into believing without a hint of doubt that you were destined for the greatness you have in your dreams?

The dreams themselves aren’t the issue. We all have them. They provide stimulus and excitement. What makes them perilous, and their advocates misleading, is when we assume that they must be achieved at any cost, and that we’re the rightful owner of the prize they promise. Suddenly, they aren’t just dreams; they’re a calling. Especially when they’re voiced in terms such as those by Walt Disney: ‘If you dream it, you can do it.’ And what such an unflinching position necessitates is extreme belief to the point of self-deception, particularly when Norman Vincent Peale says, ‘Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities’; when Diana Ross says, ‘In the end, you really just need to believe in yourself’; when Venus Williams says, ‘You have to believe in yourself when no one else does – that makes you a winner right there’; when Christian Louboutin says, ‘You need to believe in yourself and what you do’; when Jon Bon Jovi says, ‘Believe in yourself. Believe in your dreams. If you don’t, who will?’

You get the picture. It really is a slippery slope of self-deception – although some might say, ‘So what? Even if people are deceiving themselves, is that such a bad thing?’ Well, yeah, it is.

One reason is that self-deception blocks us from accepting important information about ourselves. One scholarly analysis, for instance, stated ‘the most appropriate generalization we can truthfully make of self-deceivers . . . is that they are guided by a desire to believe’. That desire to believe infers that they frequently block the nagging suspicions – the implicit knowledge – that arises from the continued rejections from modelling agencies, or the repeated start-up ideas that fail, or the novel that still hasn’t been picked up by publishers. And while the self-deception might once have been manufactured – ‘I must believe in myself in order to become successful’ – eventually it morphs into self-delusion: it’s no longer just manufactured positive thinking but a genuine and unshakeable belief in one’s own destiny. In any case, ‘self-deceivers do not get what they want’ because ‘such cases are failures of self-knowledge’.⁴⁸ What that means is that, deep down, they’re aware of the ugly truth. They just subconsciously choose to ignore it.

This, unsurprisingly, leads to a raft of unrealistic and personally unfair expectations. Let’s look at a specific example that has been explored empirically: entrepreneurs. I was once one of them. Or an obsessively aspiring one, at least. And what I noticed among the other entrepreneurs with whom I associated was that all of us possessed the same self-help bibles written by Tony Robbins, Napoleon Hill, Michael Gerber, Robert Kiyosaki and, yes, even Donald Trump. We all had the same vision, too. Many millions of dollars. Long holidays. The freedom to choose our own hours. A job aligned to our passions. In almost every case, our new ventures didn’t make anywhere near as much money as we could earn as salaried workers. And the extraordinary holidays for which we once yearned didn’t exist at all (even as just plain old ordinary holidays). Sure, we had the freedom to choose our own hours, but that was only because we were unhealthily working every hour just to keep our heads above water. And those passions we once adored became things we detested, because, as so frequently occurs, when you turn your passion into a business you end up commodifying something you love. Your heart sings less and less with every email, every spreadsheet, every invoice, every transaction, every complaint, every administrative activity, every call from a debt collector.

Of course, there are exceptions. There are those who strike it rich ridiculously quickly, who go on four luxury holidays a year, who work – dare I say it – a four-hour week, who truly love what they do. But they’re also the ones who write the articles and the books, who speak at seminars and on television, claiming that anyone can have that same lifestyle – anyone can make their dreams come true! – if only they first believe. Well, millions upon millions of people believe. Perhaps even those extolling it do as well. It’s a belief that is as uncompromising as it is vigorous. And yet nothing happens.

In one study, over 10,000 people were asked the following questions each year for a period of approximately five years:

•‘Would you say that you yourself are better off, worse off or about the same financially than you were a year ago?’

•‘Looking ahead, how do you think you yourself will be financially a year from now: better than you are now, worse off than you are now, or about the same?’

The self-employed, on average, forecast their incomes to rise by about 33 per cent higher than did salaried employees. The reality, though, was that their incomes deteriorated. Employees, in contrast, experienced an overall rise. The researchers concluded that ‘the self-employed are more liable to excess optimism’, and they ‘do seem to be driven by wishful thinking’. The researchers go further to suggest that what underpins this unrealistic optimism, especially among men, is that they think others will be attracted to their prospect of future success. Subsequently, ‘the best way to convince another of your own abilities is to really believe in them’, they write.⁴⁹ Self-delusion therefore kicks in. As does a kick in the pants sooner or later.

Does that imply we shouldn’t be entrepreneurial? No. Let’s start businesses. Let’s take risks. Let’s be innovative and daring and progressive. But let’s also not believe in ourselves and our dreams to such an extent that we shut out our honest faculties, the ones that let us know, usually not so subtly, that we’re on the wrong track. If only we had paid attention, the fall wouldn’t have been as thunderous.

But we don’t pay attention and we consequently fall. We neglect the objective data bombarding us and ‘so we fool ourselves, in search of pride. [Self-deceptive] individuals think they are more talented and honest than the evidence indicates’⁵⁰ – and this, understandably, makes them happier, since ignorance is bliss. Happiness is indeed one of the benefits of self-deception. Research also indicates that to self-deceive leads to greater confidence, more risk-taking and less distraction. But at what cost? According to one series of experiments, the short-term benefits pale in comparison to the long-term costs.⁵¹

In the first experiment, participants were split into two groups and asked to complete a test. One group was given access to the answers. The other group was not. They were then surveyed after the test to ascertain their level of confidence ahead of the next test. Those who had been given the answers in the first test – otherwise known as the cheaters – were far more confident that they would continue to do well. In other words, they discounted the unfair advantage they had been given and instead deceived themselves ‘into believing that their strong performance was a reflection of their ability’. They truly believed in themselves, despite evidence to the contrary.

In the second experiment, the researchers sought to find out whether the inflated expectations of the self-deceiving individuals materialised. As might be expected, they performed no better than the other group. They had ‘deceived themselves into believing they were smarter than their results on the second test proved them to be’.

In the third experiment, the participants were told they could earn cash according to how accurately they predicted their performance on the next test. The researchers wanted to see whether monetary incentives would temper the self-deceivers a little. With money at stake, maybe their expectations would be a little less swollen. Well, not quite. Their high expectations remained the same, and their performance no better, leading the researchers to conclude that ‘although self-deception can be beneficial in the short term, basing decisions on erroneous beliefs can prove costly in the longer term’.

Does all this indicate we shouldn’t believe in ourselves? No. We should absolutely believe in ourselves, so long as we don’t abandon our critical self-reflection in the process. Belief in oneself must be accompanied by a preparedness to admit that what we once made ourselves believe was true may no longer be the case. It’s humbling to make such an admission, and it might feel defeatist, but doing so will save a lot of time, energy and money that might be better spent on other endeavours.

Therefore, let’s edit the quotations that began this chapter. Walt Disney’s looks better like this:

‘If you dream it, you can do it. Assuming you’re a character in a fairy tale.’

And Norman Vincent Peale’s feels more accurate this way:

‘Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities. Just make sure they’re definitely abilities.’

Diana Ross’s hits the right note when it’s worded like this:

‘In the end, you really just need to believe in yourself within reason.’

Venus Williams hits the mark when hers is rearranged like this:

‘You have to believe in yourself when no one else does – although if no one else does, it’s probably wise to ask yourself why.’

Christian Louboutin’s fits more comfortably when adjusted like this:

‘You need to believe in yourself and what you do, but only with a critical and honest mindset.’

And Jon Bon Jovi’s sounds about right when versed in this way:

‘Believe in yourself. Believe in your dreams. If you don’t, that’s okay. You’ll have others.’

 

48E. Funkhouser, 2005, ‘Do the self-deceived get what they want?’, Pacific Philosophical Quarterly, vol. 86, no. 3, pp. 295–312.

49G. Arabsheibani, D. de Meza, J. Maloney & B. Pearson, 2000, ‘And a vision appeared unto them of a great profit: evidence of self-deception among the self-employed’, Economic Letters, vol. 67, no. 1, pp. 35–41.

50T. Cowen, 2005, ‘Self-deception as the root of political failure’, Public Choice, vol. 124, no. 3, pp. 437–451.

51Z. Chance, M.I. Norton, F. Gino & D. Ariely, 2011, ‘Temporal view of the costs and benefits of self-deception’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, vol. 108, no. 3, pp. 15655–15659.