On the Social Underpinnings of Personal Identity
Nick VittumSocial Science Capstone
12/14/14
ABSTRACT
This essay considers the place of personal identity
within its broader social environment. What is the
relationship between social context and personal identity?
Why is personal identity so closely guarded, especially in
the age of celebrated “individualism?” The answer seems to
lie in the role that personal identity plays in traversing
the “social map.” Personal identity turns out to be a kind
of internal navigation system that allows its possessor to
negotiate his or her social world. The essay analyzes,
compares and contrasts Nancy Chodorow’s book The Power of
Feelings, Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa, and Zygmunt
Bauman’s Liquid Modernity and Liquid Times – all of them authors who
have contributed unique perspectives to the debate over
identity. In the final analysis, as social context become
less stable or predictable, as the borders and contours of
the “map” begin to blur, or as more social forces come along
that appropriate or exploit this important tool, personal
identity becomes dysfunctional, leaving its owner
disoriented and vulnerable.
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THE SOCIAL UNDERPINNINGS OF PERSONAL IDENTITY
In early November of this year, more than three-thousand
people showed up outside of TCF Bank stadium in Minnesota to
protest the arrival of the visiting team – the
controversially named Washington “Redskins” (Cox 2014). It
wasn’t the first protest ever held at a “Redskins” game, but
it was certainly one of the largest. Critics of the name
have long argued that it can only be interpreted as
derogatory to native americans, and are appalled by the
team’s refusal to change it to something less offensive.
Supporters, meanwhile, can’t see how a team name could
possibly generate such hostility, and often react with
defiance, flaunting Redskins attire, chanting, and mocking
their opponents.
More importantly, supporters of the name dismiss critics
as overly-sensitive. It is just a name, after all! But this
dismissal overlooks the fact that thousands of people take
umbrage, and have found it in their interests to actively
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campaign to change it. At its most basic level, the
controversy demonstrates two groups whose personal
convictions have manifested in vastly different directions.
Individuals on both sides feel that a specific aspect of
their personal identity has been violated by the
antagonistic actions of the other.
Controversies like these are prevalent in modern society.
Pervasive images, labels, advertisements and other messages
that seek to sell a brand, product or idea often lead to
conflict over whether those who create it have the right to
do so. At the root of this conflict is a struggle to
protect identity from real or perceived appropriation,
exploitation or fraudulence. Protesters of the “Redskins,”
for example, feel the team exploits a policy
2
of Native extermination – carried out by European settlers
in centuries past – by appropriating a demeaning epithet. In
so doing, they refer to a time when Native identity was
severely injured – an injury, they argue, that may never
heal. If opponents were to succeed in their forcible
rebranding campaign, the significance of that oppressive
history could, at the very least, no longer be made light of
in this particular fashion.
Personal identity greatly affects our lives, how we live
them, and who we associate with, but countless examples
demonstrate that it is vulnerable – capable of being
tarnished, distorted, even obliterated. Moreover, in times
such as ours – when “individualism” is so celebrated – one
has to wonder if our identities have only become more
vulnerable. This paper explores personal identity, its
significance, and its connection to the broader social
environment in which is resides. More specifically, it asks:
what is the relationship between social context and personal
identity?
2
A better understanding of this relationship could help us
to recognize how the symbols we communicate can and often
do have a profound effect on others. If personal identity at
first seems insignificant, a closer look reveals its
importance, even in seemingly trivial matters such as the
naming of a sports team. What seems innocuous to one group
can be a cause for grief and consternation to another.
Personal identity, then, because it is so personal, is easily
misunderstood or disregarded. But what is it that makes a
sound identity so crucial to the human experience? I argue
that personal identity is a kind of internal navigation
system that allows us to situate ourselves on, and negotiate
our social “map,” or environment. In other words, personal
identity keeps us abreast of social developments and alerts
us to hazards where they exist. Exploitation,
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appropriation, or (as we will see) social disintegration,
can cause this “social GPS” to falter.
Three authors specifically address personal identity.
Nancy Chodorow, a feminist sociologist and psychoanalyst, is
author of the book The Power of Feelings: Personal Meaning in
Psychoanalysis, Gender and Culture (1999). She argues that social
experience is always being interpreted by internal
psychological processes, thus its influence on personal
identity, while always present, is largely subjective.
Margaret Mead was an American anthropologist who took an
interest in cultures that were (as yet) relatively
uninfluenced by the modern, western world. Her book Coming of
Age in Samoa (1928) is a study of over fifty adolescent and
pre-adolescent girls who lived on the Pacific island of
Samoa. Mead takes a socially deterministic view – one’s
social context is the basis for his or her development of
personal identity.
Finally, Zygmunt Bauman, a Polish sociologist who, in his
books Liquid Modernity and Liquid Times (1999;2007), argues that
contemporary notions of personal identity are the result of
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a transition to individualism and uncertainty in postmodern
society. “Social context” today is insubstantial, defined by
an absence of the social/communal bonds that were once, but
no longer essential for survival.
Bauman, Mead and Chodorow contrast on some important
aspects, such as sociocultural determinism, the boundary
between social and personal identity, and whether the social
environment is fixed or fluid. Their disparate perspectives
will certainly highlight the complexities involved in the
attempt to understand personal identity. But they also show
that, without question, any investigation of personal
identity
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is necessarily incomplete if it ignores the significant role
that social context plays in its development.
The essay concludes by discussing further the idea that
personal identity is a social navigation system. Zygmunt
Bauman’s theory of liquidity can assist in highlighting the
realities that individuals must contend with in today’s
social environment. The disintegration of social/communal
bonds leaves us with a heightened awareness of our
uniqueness, but it also cripples our ability to navigate the
social world. The unpredictability of a “liquid” social
environment puts our social GPS on the fritz, as it
desperately attempts to recalibrate itself to account for
changes in a chaotic environment.
NANCY CHODOROW: THE PERSONAL IS, WELL, MOSTLY PERSONAL
As a feminist psychoanalyst, Chodorow’s work could easily
be a resource for anyone exploring the question of identity.
Chodorow, in her book The Power of Feelings: Personal Meaning in
Psychoanalysis, Gender and Culture (1999), argues for the importance
of psychological processes in the creation, or construction,
4
of personal identity. The psychological phenomena she has
observed in her “analysands” throughout her career has
inspired in her a belief that, despite claims of many of her
academic contemporaries, an individual’s identity is not
just a reflection of his or her social context.
Chodorow’s arguments pertaining to identity are
frequently supported with examples of gender construction.
She invokes the psychoanalytical concepts of transference,
introjection, projection and unconscious fantasy to argue
for a view of gender that to her mind, “. . . accords with
contemporary feminism . . . people create their sense of
gender
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by emotionally and conflictually charging recognizable
cultural meanings, their personal experience, and their
bodies with unconscious fantasy” (1999:112). An important
aspect of Chodorow’s theory can be gleaned from the above
quotation. That “people create their sense” of gender is a
telling phrase. If gender identity is constructed by the
conscious attachment of meaning to objective social
experience, the psyche must have considerable autonomy.
Indeed, Chodorow states in her introduction that her book
is primarily “. . . an argument for the existence of an
irreducible realm of psychological life in which we create
unconscious personal meaning in the experiential immediacy
of the present” (1999:1). The irreducible realm she refers
to here is, by and large, the realm of “transference” – that
unique psychological sphere wherein each of us projects our
emotions onto others, internalizes the emotions of others,
and finally weaves intricate webs of subjective meaning. Due
to this subjectivity, though, the fibers of our “web” are
composed as much of imagined social reality as they are of
the objective sort. This has unfortunate implications for
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the proposal that personal identity serves as social
navigation system: quite simply, that it is wrong. If
personal meaning – which Chodorow would argue is a
foundational element of identity – is based on skewed
interpretations of social reality, individuals would be
hard-pressed to rely on such a nebulous mechanism to
negotiate the social environments they inhabit.
Chodorow is clearly critical of those who would see an
individual’s psyche as microcosm of their social world.
However, she also believes that many in her line work are
also guilty of reductionism. She opposes not only the
socially-deterministic
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viewpoints in other disciplines, but also the psychic-
determinism present in classic Freudian psychology. She even
goes so far as to reject that idea that we can pinpoint an
exact relationship between the personal and the social,
stating: “Theories . . . need to situate development in an
internal and external relational matrix . . . they need not
tell us what is set down, enacted, and determinative for
psychic contents and the modes of functioning” (1999:51). To
Chodorow, every facet of a person’s life is constructed and
upheld by a unique combination of objective experience and
psychodynamic processes that endlessly mitigate present
reality. Certainly no two individuals, according to this
belief, could ever be exactly alike – neither in
psychological nor social profile.
The link between social environment and personal identity
is further obfuscated by Chodorow’s unwillingness to presume
a definition of, or hardly even use the term “social.” The
“cultural” and the “personal” are put (early and often) into
dialogue with one another in The Power of Feelings, but it’s
difficult to define exactly what she is referring to when
6
that distinction is made. Consider, for instance, one of
literally hundreds of statements she makes about the
interwoven nature of the cultural and personal. She writes,
“People create cultural selves and emotions and animate
cultural meaning and interpretations individually and
idiosyncratically, but it is nonetheless specific cultural
selves, emotions, and meaning that they animate. Specific
cultural patterns are always given an individual cast”
(1999:225). The claim that a person idiosyncratically
“creates” a culturally specific self and, what’s more,
culturally specific emotions (which I had previously assumed
were universal), leaves a lot to be resolved. Culture, to
Chodorow, seems to be a default terms to describe the
outside world. But
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her lack of precision with the term leaves the reader to
constantly wonder in what sense she is using the terms.
Occasionally, she talks about culture holistically, but
other times she uses it parallel to “gender” or “history,”
suggesting that one’s culture is separate from their gender,
history, etc. This causes great confusion when examining
quotes like the one above. Does a “culturally specific” self
encompass one’s history, one’s gender? Or does a person also
“create” a historically specific and gender specific self?
In general, it is unclear how much of one’s social
environment is cultural and how much is personal, because
Chodorow spends most of the book discussing these concepts
in this obtuse fashion.
Perhaps the clearest example to be found, or the most
basic answer to our question is Chodorow’s insistence that:
“Identity depends not simply on identifying with others but
on being confirmed and recognized by others as a particular
individual in a particular universe” (1999:229). The
statement can be construed as a simplification of the
relationship between personal identity and social context.
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Personal identity has us recognize others, subjectively and
objectively, while social context is simply the process of
others confirming and reciprocating this identification.
Meanwhile, interactions are informed by senses, emotions,
culture, meanings, and other “identities” (of which Chodorow
believes there are many).
What is certainly clear from Chodorow’s book is the
rebuttal of sociocultural determinism. Statements like
these: “The demonstration that we create personal emotional
meaning from birth throughout life challenges and
potentially affects all culturally determinist or
exclusively cultural accounts” (1999:130) continuous drive
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home the point that what is personal is not simply a
reflection of what is cultural. What this means for our
purposes is that social context and personal identity are
essentially a chicken and an egg. The question seems to be,
then, how much do our subjective identities alter the social
information we receive, vice versa, and is that even
measurable?
MARGARET MEAD AND THE POWER OF CONTEXT
Mead’s book Coming of Age in Samoa (1928) is an account of
life in what she might have called an “uncomplicated” social
environment. This is not to say that the Samoan girls she
studied were not complex individuals. Rather, the society in
which they lived didn’t leave much room, or perhaps even the
inclination, for them to discover or reveal their
idiosyncrasies. Mead argued that the Samoan lifestyle and
attitude – which she claimed were generally free of discord
– was only possible due to a sociocultural uniformity that
would be incomprehensible to an individual living in the
western, multi-cultural world. The Samoan social environment
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not only housed the personal identities (which she tends to
refer to simply as “personalities”) of the girls she
studied, but also afforded them their overall character.
Coming of Age in Samoa has a subtitle, but one wouldn’t know
it unless they were to inspect the book’s front matter,
where it is buried: A Psychological Study of Primitive Youth for Western
Civilisation. The problem with this subtitle, and perhaps why it
is not included on the cover, is that the psychology of
these girls is not actually knowable, according to Mead.
Rather, a collective social mentality conceals much of what
we could
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discern from the individual. No doubt the use of the word
“psychological” would have caused readers to feel misled
when they realized this.
Personality, argued Mead, is important only insofar as
it contributes to reinforcing social ties and traditions. In
Samoan society, it was a rare and unwelcome occurrence for
an individual to voluntarily distance their self from the
group, or become obstinate. She says, “There is one word
musu which expresses unwillingness and intractability,
whether in the mistress who refuses to welcome a hitherto
welcome lover, the chief who refuses to lend his kava bowl,
the baby who won’t go to bed, or the talking chief who won’t
go on a malaga [traveling party]” (1928:87). Musu is a
powerful term that encompasses a wide range of behaviors,
and demonstrates the pressure that the community places on
the individual to conform. Someone labeled musu is met with
“fatalistic” acceptance of that person’s abnormal or
irrational behavior and quickly condemned.
Conversely, those who align themselves with the
community are more easily forgiven. Mead states: “The well-
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integrated individual who approximates closely to the
attitudes of his age and sex group is not accused of
laughing, crying, or showing anger without cause” (1982:90).
To be “without cause” is to have a disposition
uncharacteristic of the average Samoan, which can ostracize
the individual. It’s easy to think that, in a community so
ready to disregard those who diverge from the social stream
as “musu,” individuals must be forced to suppress their
emotions and bury their opinions or desires. In Mead’s view,
however, the reality is less sinister. Mead didn’t believe
that the girls in her study were repressed – far from it,
even. The personality of a Samoan was simply
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unimportant in the collective scheme, and the “average”
individual had no dissent or deviation to hide.
Mead’s description of this personal-social dynamic lends
itself towards a socioculturally-deterministic view – that
one’s personality is established largely by his/her
adherence, or lack of, to cultural attitudes/expectations.
Yet, it does not explain the the considerable autonomy of
the “well-integrated” individual (considerable in comparison
to the individual in institutionalized society, at least).
One of the major theme’s of Mead’s study is that the girls
in her research seem to be freer and far more happy than
their American counterparts. Their social context allowed
them more freedom as social actors, with relaxed and
informal cultural practices that allowed for more
exploration and experimentation.
This is not, however, to say that the girls has no
agency. Instead, it means agency denotes behavior that is
carried out on behalf of society, rather than in opposition
to it. Mead writes, “The Samoan child measures her every act
of work or play in terms of her whole community; each item
10
of conduct is dignified in terms of its realised
relationship to the . . . life of a Samoan village”
(1928:158,159). Whereas Mead saw a “complex” social context
as full of antagonistic interests all vying for influence,
and whereas agency in that society might be defined as an
individual act that defies social expectations, she regarded
Samoa as more “primitive” and unified in its motivations.
Thus, it was practically unthinkable for a Samoan villager
to want to deviate from the given set of standards. To do so
would be to go against one’s own interests. What follows
from this is an overwhelmingly consensual social climate,
where identity is intricately linked to one’s
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position amidst the collective – psychological difference is
of little concern, while behavior that promotes social
integrity is held in high regard.
Individual traits (e.g. emotions, attitudes,
dispositions, etc.) in Samoa were, according to Mead,
generally only referred to in language that related it to
society. “The whole preoccupation is with the individual as
an actor, and the motivations peculiar to his psychology are
left an unplumbed mystery” (1928:91). Social integrity,
then, reduces the awareness one has of the their personal
identity, and raises one’s collective consciousness. But
does that mean personal identity is non-existent? Mead
seemed to believe that if it did exist, it was insignificant
in strong communities. The argument she makes, in fact, is
one that criticizes American society for creating
pathologies related to a heightened sense of one’s
“individuality,” which is itself a myth. Mead didn’t believe
we could divorce our individual selves from the community
without suffering serious consequences. For example, she
brings up the isolating nature of the nuclear family. She
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states: “The children in all three of the biological
families in the three villages showed more character, more
sharply defined personality, greater precocity and a more
personal, more highly charged attitude towards their
parents” (1928:100). Without that broad social context,
notice, not only does personality become more “sharply
defined,” but it becomes more problematic. Mead suggests
that these smaller, more confined families often placed
pressure on the children at a very early age, and denied
them the proper exposure to their social environment. This
sort of deprivation, in Mead’s view, reduces identity to
something purely individualistic, and “precocity” or
“character” are just ways of saying that a child is
alienated.
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Drawing on Mead’s explanation of the comparative
differences between American and Samoan adolescents, one can
see that she is dubious at the idea of a “sharply defined”
personal identity as a natural, or healthy part of any
society. Take, for instance, the following conclusion about
her Samoan informants: “With the differences in temperament
equal to those found among us . . . they showed a surprising
uniformity of knowledge, skill and attitude, and presented a
a picture of orderly, regular development in a flexible, but
strictly delimited, environment”(1928:127). What is truly
different, then, is that one social environment has promoted
an “orderly” and “regular” collective identity, while the
other has promoted an unnatural, isolating individuality.
ZYGMUNT BAUMAN: DROWNING IN OUR OWN LIQUIDITY
Zygmunt Bauman has argued that the chief characteristic
of our modern, globalized society is its volatility. His
recent books examine the labile social conditions of our
present-day – consumerism has spurred a crisis of meaning,
an obsession with security, and an addiction to desire.
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Individual self-concept, in Bauman’s opinion, has
transformed under an increasingly “liquid” social milieu.
Bauman argues that contemporary notions of identity, which
he says are the result of a transition to individualism and
uncertainty in postmodern society, have lost much of their
social qualities.
Bauman believes the social environment we experience
today is defined by an absence of the collective bonds that
were once, but no loner essential to identity construction.
He describes “fluid” or “liquid” society as “a condition in
which social forms (structures that limit individual
choices, institutions that guard repetitions of
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routines, patters of acceptable behaviour) can no longer
(and are not expected) to keep their shape for long”
(2007:1). The individual today is forced to remain at the
ready, to endlessly adapt to the flow of social currents.
Instead of pressure to conform or stay rooted to a lifestyle
one might not otherwise choose, the individual is presented
with ever-changing life-choices – new products, new paths,
new relationships.
Bauman argues that to possess an “identity” in liquid
times has a fundamentally different meaning than it does in
an era where social stability reigns. Whereas identity in
pre-modern (even early-modern) times might be a fixed
association with a specific community, ethnic group, guild
or union, or otherwise, it has now become that which
distinguishes the individual from the group. He writes: “. .
. the way individual people define individually their
individual problems and try to tackle them deploying
individual skills and resources is the sole remaining
‘public issue’ and the sole object of ‘public interest’”
(2000:72). Since we no longer identify as a collective, the
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“community” has been replaced by “public,” which consists of
a multitude of individuals who might relate to one another’s
problems, but have no real interest or ability to solve them
collectively.
In light of this fact, Bauman believes the very concept of
personal identity becomes suspect – if at one time
“identity” was an adhesive that held social bonds together,
how could it possibly have morphed in modern times to mean
the exact opposite? The answer lies with our transition from
producers to consumers. He states, “In a consumer society,
sharing in consumer dependency . . . is the condition sine
qua non of all individual freedom; above all, of the freedom to
be different, to ‘have identity’’ (2000:84).
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Consuming together, it seems, involves less social cohesion
than producing together. Personal identity, then, is only
entirely personal in a consumer society.
Strong social connections may have been necessary for
those whose task it was to produce (and reproduce) their
material existence, but Bauman doesn’t think this is so when
it comes to consumers. Instead, individualistic consumption
is linked with personal freedom, notably the freedom from
having to commit to any one identity. “The opportunity to
‘shop around’, to pick and shed one’s ‘true self’, to ‘be on
the move’, has come in present-day consumer society to
signify freedom” (2000:86). We see here how, in Bauman’s
view, the pursuit, the fulfillment of individual whims,
becomes more than just something that is associated with
identity – it actually becomes the definition of personal
identity. But this definition is only partial. Along with
the consumer aspects of identity-creation comes a certain
desperation.
Underlying the quest for individuality is a deep desire
to finally achieve a continuity of character. According to
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Bauman: “That work of art which we want to mould out of the
friable stuff of life is called ‘identity’ . . . the search
for identity is the ongoing struggle to arrest or slow down
the flow, to solidify the fluid, to give form to the
formless” (Bauman:2000:82). While the endless search to
“find” ourselves is played out in an endless cycle of
consumption, there is a component of modern identity that
implores the individual to seek some type of order/security.
For Bauman, with each act of consumption comes a futile
attempt to hold fast, to find contentment and meaning in (to
identify with) whatever it is that is being consumed. But
consumption leaves mere residue behind, the shells of
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that which was consumed. Caprice and abandonment leave no
basis for a strong self-conception, so the cycle
perpetuates.
Our social context, according to Bauman, clearly lacks
adhesive that would bind the person to his or her to the
community. One must instead remain “an individual”, which
requires them to be a chameleon who adapts to the rapid pace
of technological and social change, while simultaneously
keeping their “essence” in tact. For Bauman, this is an
impossible task that leads to an identity that it
necessarily fragmented: “The destination of individual self-
constructing labour is endemically and incurably
underdetermined, is not given in advance, and tends to
undergo numerous and profound changes before such labours
reach their only genuine end: that is, the end of the
individual’s life” (2000:7). Individuals may feel compelled
have an essence that they can point to as indicative of
their uniqueness, but Bauman believes that this is an
impossible proposition for someone who is faced with
infinite choices.
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Identity-construction in liquid times ultimately
reflects an individual response to growing competition and
uncertainty in society. Deregulation and competition
introduced by global capitalism has transformed our modern
social context from something that might have once been
called “robustly democratic” into a nightmarish free-for-
all. He states: “Once competition replaces solidarity,
individuals find themselves abandoned to their own –
pitifully meagre and evidently inadequate – resources . . .
decomposition of collective bonds made, without asking their
consent, individuals de jure” (2007:67). In light of this
social breakdown, the individual, as we’ve seen, is
constantly attempting to latch onto something he/she can use
to create personal meaning
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– to be in control of, if nothing else, the self. What
(Bauman:2000:83) this equates to, then, is an
individualistic, ritual “shopping for identity” as a stand-
in for what, under different social circumstances, might
have been civic-engagement or religious worship – that
either way serves our innate need to feel secure.
It was only when individuals were divorced from
locality, from the politics and the lasting relations of
communal life that self-interest was great enough to make
“identity” a phenomenon that individuals could recognize in
themselves. Today’s social environment, in Bauman’s study,
removes all sense of the responsibility to be socially-
committed. This came about as a result of a set of social
conditions that promoted individualism and competition. If
social conditions had promoted a different set of values, it
seems likely that identity would reflect those values as
well. Social context, then, relates to personal identity by
shaping its strength and character.
PUT ‘EM TOGETHER AND WHAT DO YOU GET?
(MOSTLY A LOT OF DISAGREEMENT OVER THE IMPORTANCE OF THE COLLECTIVE)
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We’ve looked now at three authors whose work has in some
way contributed to the discussion of personal identity.
There is no question that the projects undertaken and views
espoused by Bauman, Chodorow and Mead are motivated by
different questions asked in different times for different
reasons. Where Mead concerned herself with cultural impacts
on adolescent psychology, Chodorow is concerned with mental
processes that transform sociocultural inputs into personal
meaning. Where Bauman seeks to highlight modern social
patterns that come and go quicker than any individual
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could recognize them, Mead believed instead that social
patterns are weaved into the fabric of static culture, and
personal identity is merely the internalization of those
patterns. During this examination, however, all three
authors have presented arguments that suggest a relationship
between social context and personal identity.
We can examine areas of overlap by asking three
questions of them. First, does the nature of the
relationship ever change? In other words, do the kinds of
social qualities that influence individuals fundamentally
change in different social contexts? To tackle this
question, we will need to ask a different question first: is
society/culture a concrete entity? Second, is personal
identity necessarily individualistic, or if it is somehow
intrinsically linked with social, or collective, identity?
And lastly, is social context the only determinate factor
that shapes an individual’s sense of identity, or rather, do
any of our authors take a socio-cultural-deterministic view
of identity?
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Neither Mead nor Chodorow make any mention, as Bauman
does, of society or culture as a fluid, or emerging,
phenomenon. Instead, they speak of culture as a fixed set of
environmental conditions. Mead straightforwardly depicts
culture as the all-encompassing, uniform state of society.
She writes: “Each primitive people has selected one set of
human gifts, one set of human values, and fashioned for
themselves an art, a social organization, a religion, which
is their unique contribution to the history of the human
spirit” (1928:11). One unique set of characteristics,
presumably unchanging (except, of course, when that
“primitive” culture is infiltrated by another equally
unique, if exploitative, culture), defines the group. The
pressures exerted on individuals by their culture, in that
case, must be static as well.
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Chodorow never submits more than a vague definition of
“culture” in The Power Of Feelings, but her lack of clarity on
the matter is significant in itself. Consider her discussion
of gender identity: “As [cultural] meanings are constructed
and reconstructed in personal gender, [they] become
entangled with the specifics of individual emotion and
fantasy, with aspects of self, and with conscious and
unconscious images of gender, fostered by particular
families” (1999:88). Here we find culture categories
“constructed” and “reconstructed” inside the minds of
individuals– an idea suggestive of the authors belief that
culture is a external object. In fact, Chodorow refers over
and over again to culture as a set of categories or types;
meanwhile personal meanings shift and change without hope of
being reduced to either of these. Theory, in Mead’s book, is
mostly overshadowed by empirical accounts, so it is
difficult to say whether Mead agrees that culture is
“constructed and reconstructed,” but that construction of
culture, in Mead’s view, would look more like the
reinforcement of existing culture. In any case, both authors
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would generally agree that those constructions are definite.
In other words, they agree that culture, no matter its
permutations, has a distinguishable form.
They diverge more markedly, however, on the discussion
of the personal. Consider Chodorow’s description of emotions
as cultural versus personal phenomena. She writes: “Anger,
shame, hope, fear, envy, love, and hate may be evoked in
particular ways in different cultures and in reaction to
culturally typical experiences, but these emotions are also
evoked differently by different members of the culture and
differently for the same member in different internal and
external contexts” (1999:165). It seems that fluidity, if
there is such a concept to Chodorow, rests with the ever-
changing internal processes of
19
individual psychology, or the tendency for individuals
within the same culture to be radically different from one
another. Mead, by contrast, rejects that fluidity even when
it comes to individual psychology. She writes that the
Samoan “disregard of personal [sexual] relations is . . .a
reflection of a more general cultural attitude in which
personality is consistently disregarded” (1928:153). It is
clear, then, that the “fixedness” Mead believed in extended
from the culture to the individuals who constituted it.
Next, we ask: is personal identity is necessarily
individualistic, or is it somehow linked with social, or
collective, identity? Here we find Chodorow’s perspective in
partial alignment with Bauman’s. Where Mead found identity
to be little more than the extension of collective society,
Bauman and Chodorow disagree. Instead, they take the view
that personal and social identity exist independently of one
another. According to Bauman, in situations where social,
collective bonds are undone, personal identity becomes a
distinct part of individual reality. This is a key feature
of Bauman’s theory of liquidity. He says, “We are presently
19
moving from the era of pre-allocated ‘reference groups’ into
the epoch of ‘universal comparison’, in which the
destination of individual self-constructing labour is
endemically and incurably underdetermined, is not given in
advance, and tends to undergo numerous and profound changes
before such labours reach their only genuine end: that is,
the end of the individual’s life” (2000:7). Bauman believes
that, in that the era of “pre-allocated ‘reference groups,’”
collective ambitions or coercive pressures ensured that
“individuals” were a part of a greater network of social
actors, whose interactions and expectations were the
(strong) building blocks of personal life. That, however,
does not mean that personal identity is non-existent in this
or any other social
20
environment. There is, rather, a balance that he argues has
been disrupted in modern times. Mead, for her part,
recognizes that this social collective has disintegrated,
but she does not think it natural to have a sense of
personal identity that exists complimentary to to social
identity, rather that individuality manifesting itself in
society is abnormal and problematic.
Chodorow, like Bauman, thinks that social and personal
identity are separable. She criticizes theorists like Mead
for not recognizing this separation in their work. She
accuses the work of many anthropologists of being oblivious,
writing: “These accounts are unable to conceive
theoretically, even as they describe ethnographically,
individual psychological processes of personal meaning
creation, nor can they acknowledge theoretically that
emotion-laden self-experience can be inextricably personal
and cultural at the same time” (1999:161-162). Thus Mead’s
refusal to acknowledge the personal aspects of identity
ignores entirely the biological realm that is responsible
for creating us. As a psychoanalyst, Chodorow is far more
20
interested than Bauman or Mead in the psychological
processes that divide collective and personal
identification. But we see that Bauman and Chodorow are
closer in agreeing that these two realms do, in fact, exist.
Our third question asks whether social context is the
only determinate factor that shapes an individual’s sense of
identity. Here will finally situate Bauman and Mead on
common ground. Unlike Chodorow, Mead and Bauman de-emphasize
the ability of the individual to create subjective meaning
based on internal dispositions/processes. Mead cites the
behavioral discrepancy between adolescent females in the
U.S. and Samoa. She writes that “If the same process takes a
different form in two different environments, we
21
cannot make any explanations in terms of the process, for
that is the same in both cases. But the social environment
is very different and it is to it that we must look for an
explanation” (1928:137). There was no question in Mead’s
mind about the importance of one’s social environment. In
her view, the variance in trends of human behavior between
cultures was evidence enough of its cultural primacy in
determining identity. Our biological similarities simply
could not possibly account for these wide variances.
Bauman’s determinism isn’t quite so readily detectable,
but consider his description of the postmodern individual as
lost and helpless. He writes, “The dream of making
uncertainty less daunting and happiness more permanent by
changing one’s ego, and of changing one’s ego by changing
its dresses, is the ‘utopia’ of hunters – a ‘deregulated’,
‘privatized’, and ‘individualized’ version of the old-style
visions of the good society . . . “ (2007:107). Bauman
believes that hard as we may try as individuals to be self-
determining, we are at the mercy of our social environment.
Even when we think we are in control, as those psychologists
21
in Mead’s book who were so certain they could “fix” their
problem adolescents, of our environment, it is actually our
environment that controls us.
By now, We’ve hopefully placed our authors on a wider
spectrum of debated over identity. Bauman and Chodorow share
the belief that individuals have distinct, unique
identities; Chodorow and Mead both believe that culture is a
fixed, objective phenomena, though how they reached this
belief differs considerably; Mead and Bauman place social
context as the all-important factor in determining identity.
In the following section, I explore what I have learned from
this debate, and how I have come to my conclusion that
22
personal identity is instrumental, characterized by its
function as a tool for social navigation.
CONCLUSION: RESETTING THE COORDINATES
If the authors above have taught us anything, it is that
personal identity is a concept that holds different
applications for different theorists. If there is not even a
consensus on whether personal identity is at root social,
physiological, psychological or otherwise, we can hardly
expect there to be an agreed upon definition, or a
singularly operative usage of the concept itself. Further, I
do not pretend to have gotten to the “bottom” of the
relationship between personal identity and social context in
this modest essay. However, the idea that identity operates
as a kind of internal GPS to help us navigate the social map
is one I think should be explored further.
Originally, I was perplexed by the differences between
self, personal, social, individual, collective, role and
other types of “identity” often practically interchangeable
in the social sciences. I learned over time that no matter
22
the modifier, the operative word in all of these is
“identity.” If we represent the sum total of interpersonal
behaviors and ideas that influence individual actors, our
“social context,” on a metaphorical map, on that same map
the “individual” is just a blip -- a blinking, behaving
thing which moves in relation to the other blips and is
hindered by natural and “man-made” limitations. But identity
is the workhorse of the social map. It is identity that
drives where these little blips attract, where they repel.
So where does identity exist? Mead would likely have argued
that it exists in the collective. But I do not agree with
Mead on this point. I think
23
identity exists within the individual. Identity and
individuality, however, not synonymous. Individuals carry
with them an inherent means of negotiating their social
worlds, and this we can call “identity.” It seems identity’s
only purpose is the aforementioned function.
Bauman’s assessment of modern society – the idea that we
social beings are somehow surviving despite the near-total
disintegration of collective social bonds – led me to
consider if it was possible that identity could disintegrate
in a similar fashion. I found, however, that identity is not
so tangible as that. Identity, unlike observable social
reality or unseen psychological processes, is simply the
abstract idea that connects these two concepts.
I think Nancy Chodorow’s insistence that psychological
processes are as important to personal identity as
sociocultural factors is closer than my other authors to
“getting it right,” simply based on her willingness to
acknowledge both. However, I think an important aspect of
this debate has been overlooked. What about the importance
of identity on social construction? The way we parse our
23
worlds, who and what we gravitate towards, and whatever it
is we’re referring to when we say “I” is simply a totality
of these abstract conduits that allow the individual to
operate within the group.
This, however, is where I leave behind the metaphysical
considerations of my thesis, and instead return to the
example of the “Redskins.” It’s obvious that the debate over
identity – its origins, its role etc. – will not be ending
any time in the near future. But I believe that the view of
identity as a social navigation tool could have beneficial
results
24
when applied to debates over identities importance.
“Redskins” fans clearly identify closely with the name of
their football team, but do so at the expense of another
group of individuals. In order to recognize the impacts of
identity-appropriation upon others, they must first
understand what it means to have an injured identity. Those
in positions of privilege have the responsibility to know
how the symbols they communicate reinforce prejudices.
Moreover, the refusal to change the derogatory name of a
sports team speaks to the desperation that Bauman spoke of
that plagues our liquid times. If Washington fans need cling
so tight to something so seemingly trivial, they might want
to consider the areas where their own identities are
lacking.
24
Bauman, Zygmunt. 2000. Liquid Modernity. Malden, MA. Polity.
Bauman, Zygmunt. 2007. Liquid Times: Living in an Age of Uncertainty.
Malden, MA. Polity.
Chodorow, Nancy J. 1999. The Power of Feelings: Personal Meaning in
Psychoanalysis, Gender and Culture. New Haven, CT. Yale University
Press.
Cox, J.W. 2014. “In Minnesota, thousands of Native Americans
protest Redskins’ name” washingtonpost.com, Nov. 02.
Retrieved Dec. 2, 2014 (http://
www.washingtonpost.com/local/in-minnesota-native-
americans-march-rally-to-
protest-redskins-name/2014/11/02/fc38b8d0-6299-11e4-
836c-83bc4f26eb67_stor y.html).
Mead, Margaret. ([2001]1928). Coming of Age in Samoa: A
Psychological Study of Primitive Youth For Western Civilization. New