Your self-concept is a conspiracy theory

The thing about last week’s post is … it’s kinda bullshit. I constructed the story of who I am based on a specific interpretation of my experiences. It became the core of my self-concept and serves as a framework for how I move through the world.

Why is it bullshit?

First, I attribute my weight loss and subsequent athletic ascension to my effort and determination. I tell myself I was able to overcome my body. The truth is much more likely attributable to simple genetics and luck. My genes kicked in when they did, and off I went.

Second, my mythology of self hinges on the notion that I don’t have any talent. That all of my success is attributable to out-efforting more talented people. That can’t really be true either, because the fact that I can focus and persist is a talent in itself. More mundane details like my high Vo2 max, high hematocrit, height, positive ape index, pain tolerance, durability, and many other factors are all critical components of talent. This no talent myth is really just vanity.

At the end of the day, our self-concept is something of a conspiracy theory. We interpret a set of life experiences in a specific way to support a specific story of who we are. All data supporting that story is accepted and amplified; all data refuting it is discounted or ignored.

This isn’t necessarily bad.

My own conspiracy of self is useful. It creates a motivating feedback loop and helps me believe that I can effort my way through problems. But it has limits. Sometimes effort isn’t the right answer. Relationships and over-training taught me this. Effort can also create a sense that you deserve a certain outcome because you worked for it. That’s a recipe for resentment.

The conspiracy theories we believe about ourselves can also create dangerous blind spots. Most of us are at least tempted to believe that our success comes from our own hard work. But did you choose your parents, or where you were born … or when you were born? None of us did.

Sometimes you need to let go of who you’ve told yourself you are in order to make progress—to find a better version of yourself. One lesson of meditation is that the self is just another sensation; a thought like any other thought. We give it special powers and can be lured into believing it’s some sort of fixed entity.

But it’s not.

It is something we conjure ourselves. What you feel is real, but the story you tell yourself about that feeling might not be true.

Understanding that distinction is wisdom.