I have a confession to make: while I'm committed to attending rallies for peace and social justice, I'm often disturbed by the rhetoric dominating the events. No matter how cleverly it's phrased, the mantra "We're good and they're bad" gets tiresome after awhile. Hearing it over and over again, I inevitably start to wonder about what motivates people to conceptually split the world into a virtuous in-group and a vicious out-group. Since people on both the right and the left divide the ethical universe in this way, it seems likely that they're driven by similar emotional needs.

By saying this, I'm aware that I may alienate some of my readers. People on both ends of the political spectrum are traditionally suspicious of such speculation, viewing it as a way of dismissing their perspectives by questioning their sanity, and as a temptation to substitute introspection for social action.

These fears are misplaced. Not only do they block self-awareness, they also reduce the efficiency and effectiveness of our activism. If we want to have a positive effect in the world, we need to untangle the emotional knots that are tripping us up. In addressing this subject, I can only draw upon my personal experience with fellow activists, conservative and leftist alike.

This experience suggests that many of us suffer from deep narcissistic wounds. Only a minority of activists suffer from them, but they seem to affect enough of us to merit our concern. According to Elan Golomb, author of Trapped in the Mirror: Adult Children of Narcissists in Their Struggle for Self (Quill, 1992), a narcissistic wound is an injury to a person's capacity for self-love.

Such wounds can be compared to holes in a balloon. No matter how much air is pumped into a punctured balloon, it never stays full. Similarly, no matter how much love people with narcissistic wounds receive, it never seems to be enough to keep their self-esteem from deflating.

This problem stems from early emotional malnourishment. When the wounded were children, their parents were too emotionally damaged to offer them sufficient empathy and unconditional love. These parents would interpret any sign of disagreement or dissatisfaction as a personal attack, and would respond with either aggression or emotional withdrawal. As a result, their children's emotional needs went unmet, setting them up for lifelong problems with depression and anxiety.

The wounded were taught to meet their parents' needs, often by playing roles that complied with their parents' expectations. They usually play these roles well into adulthood. Children expected to be overachievers can become workaholics; those expected to be their parents' emotional caregivers often grow up to join the helping professions; those who are told, explicitly or implicitly, that they're good for nothing—that is, those who are expected to be sponges for their parents' rage—may become rebellious underachievers. They play these roles in the hope of appeasing their “inner parents,” and of thereby receiving the nurturing they were denied in their formative years.

These dynamics can cripple their personal creativity and rob them of the joy creativity brings. Creativity requires people to immerse themselves in their chosen pursuits without concern for rewards or punishments, which is a tall order for people driven by unrelenting shame and a heartbroken need for approval. When creativity is denied, the need to control becomes more pronounced, leading to a rigidity of thought and behaviour that can be extremely destructive to oneself and to others.

The only way the narcissistically wounded can find peace is by learning how to patch the holes in the balloon, something that requires a great deal of personal work. During the course of this work, it's all-too-easy to confuse one's own psychological issues with political matters.

The shape this confusion takes is molded by one's political leanings. For example, the wounded are usually terrified of their emotions, which can seem overwhelming and profoundly dangerous; this can translate into a fear of apocalyptic catastrophe. For conservatives, this fear may be framed by terrorism and the Revelation of John, and for leftists by imperialism and a climate of destabilization.

The wounded's feelings of guilt over their parents' suffering may produce an exaggerated sense of responsibility for all suffering everywhere; to find an outlet for these feelings, conservatives may invest time and money in faith-based charities, while leftists turn to environmental and social justice movements. Frustration over one's damaged creativity may inspire resentment for visibly creative people; conservatives may direct this anger towards avant-garde artists, while leftists may aim it at successful entrepreneurs. Regardless of one's political position, feelings like fear, hatred, guilt, and resentment are poor foundations upon which to stand. Left and right, the narcissistically wounded are sometimes motivated to do good things for the wrong reasons.

When we're compelled by pain we rarely act in well-informed and strategically sound ways. To fully understand a situation, we need to be open to multiple perspectives, which requires a certain degree of mental relaxation. Anxiety prevents us from relaxing and encourages us to cling to our ideological prejudices. This leads us to insulate ourselves from views that clash with our own, and to deny others the respect and empathy needed for productive dialogue.

Furthermore, to act effectively in the world, we need to tailor our actions to the needs of the situation, rather than to our own emotional needs. If our creativity is compromised, we'll have a very hard time doing this. If we're consumed by a need to prove our existential value or to alleviate feelings of shame and guilt, we'll choose ineffective actions simply because they have an emotional payoff. Thus, we might attend a protest that gives us a cathartic release and lets us scold our opponents, but then fail to do any of the time-consuming and difficult work required to promote the causes we believe in.

Similarly, we may "heroically" burn ourselves out in one of the helping professions without raising a finger to tackle the social issues that make those professions necessary. Perhaps worst of all, our self-defeating style may help discredit our beliefs in the public eye, and arouse the resentment of those we hope to persuade.

These considerations don't in any way exclude the narcissistically wounded from political activism. We don't have the luxury of waiting until we're whole before engaging in the ethical drama of human existence. Instead, the wounded have a responsibility to work simultaneously towards healing their society and themselves. This work is hard and slow, and it's both humbling and painful, but if we value the full measure of our humanity, and if we truly have the courage of our convictions, then it surely is worth the effort.

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