Tim Wilson
Auckland, September 25, 2024
Be authentic. It is the mantra of our age: “You do you.” Beneath our everyday lives, a deeper, truer self supposedly languishes, longing to break free from the shackles of family, convention, or society.
The narrative has resonance. Consider the recent revelations from the trial of wealthy eye surgeon Philip Polkinghorne, who was accused and then acquitted of strangling his wife. Superficially successful lives of rich, educated Remuera-ites, in fact, concealed a melee of sexual incontinence, drug use, and betrayal. It is fake versus real, a theme echoed in the digital world where social media sites like Instagram and LinkedIn celebrate the pursuit of authenticity.
We must recognise the technological context to this anxiety; the internet is positively groaning with fibs. Moreover, as New Zealanders, we have a historical distaste for airs and graces; we seek the down-to-earth. Yet this preference is neither unique nor new. In 1792, French philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau proclaimed, “Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains,” meaning below all this dreadful civilisation a purer self crouches.
In some sense, the search for authenticity shows a desire for truth and meaning, perhaps the most profound of human hunger. You do you… honestly, and all will be well.
By this definition, authenticity is a kind of self-expression, with little assessment of what self is being expressed. What if this “you” does not work properly? What if the real you is … awful?
Russian writer Fyodor Dostoyevsky, in Notes From Underground, observes, “Man is a vile creature and is perhaps even doomed to be so.” We (okay, yes, I) often make bad choices in full knowledge of the trouble being embraced. People commit crimes because they think they’ll get richer. They also believe they may not be caught. Accept free will, and you must also accept that we will freely choose evil.
And yet, much of our policy and political discussions are founded on the assumption that if people are given sufficient information, they will make good life decisions. History (and personal experience) argues for the opposite. Countries like Ukraine are plundered for their wealth and resources. People are murdered. Tyranny multiplies. Such foul consequences are not unintended.
Nor does education ameliorate this proclivity. In the recent Sir John Graham Lecture presented by Maxim Institute, Professor Nick Aroney unpacked how well-educated people are less likely to change their minds because they have an arsenal of rhetorical and intellectual weapons to bolster their prejudices.
In such a landscape, a little inauthenticity might go a long way. Personally, choose not to gossip about that colleague, even though it might increase your standing amongst the in-crowd at the lunch room. More widely, you might vote against your own interests but for the country’s good. We may be inauthentic in choosing to reject our true natures, yet we are also exhibiting some agency. No longer are we the prisoners of hydra-headed wants masquerading as needs.
So, a little inauthenticity might be good for you. Do not be yourself; be someone better.
Tim Wilson is the Executive Director of the Auckland-based Maxim Institute, an independent think tank working to promote the dignity of every person in New Zealand by standing for Freedom, Justice, Compassion and Hope.
