Self-confidence and self-esteem are closely related concepts that are frequently used interchangeably — a mistake worth correcting, as the two refer to fundamentally different aspects of one’s psychological makeup. Self-confidence is the likelihood one attributes to one’s future success in performing a specific task or enduring a specific challenge. Self-esteem is the value one attributes to one’s Self, expressed as self-respect. The former is task-specific and fluctuates with context; the latter is global and reflects one’s overall sense of worth. Both are desirable when realistic, and problematic when they are not.
Mood and personality disorders commonly involve distortions of self-confidence and self-esteem: depressive and borderline personality disorders are typically associated with unrealistic self-doubt and diminished self-worth, while mania and, in some cases, narcissistic personality disorder are associated with excessive self-confidence and inflated self-worth (grandiosity is a diagnostic feature of both conditions; in narcissistic personality disorder, it may actually compensate for underlying self-doubt and low self-esteem) (American Psychiatric Association, 2022).
Given the appeal of self-confidence, the unpleasantness of self-doubt, the centrality of self-esteem to psychological well-being, and the remarkable frequency with which both are misunderstood in clinical and popular discourse, examining their makings seems justified.
Self-Confidence
Self-confidence, as defined above, has a meaning only in the context of a specific functional capacity. A “free-standing” confidence in the Self, detached from functionality, is at best meaningless; at worst, it expresses an ignorant, elitist worldview that is uncomfortably close to narcissism.
Normally, self-confidence is linked to the brain’s capacity to assess the probability of successfully performing a specific task or enduring a specific challenge. A perceived high probability of success registers as self-confidence; a perceived low probability registers as self-doubt.
It is safe to say that both nature and nurture play a role in an individual’s level of self-confidence. A baseline predisposition — a point on the continuum between self-doubt and self-confidence — is probably an inborn trait, akin to musicality or athleticism. Of course, an innate predisposition does not solely determine the manifested outcome. Experience, random or designed, plays a crucial role in shaping the trait’s eventual expression. The impact of experience is greatest during the formative years, but it is not limited to this developmental period; experience retains a molding potential throughout life. Childhood experience is more impactful than adult experience on one’s ultimate capacity to sustain self-confidence, but experience at any age can alter it — positive experiences can improve it, negative ones can damage it.
The input from one’s surrounding environment plays a major role (at any age, but again, more so during the formative years than later in life). A persistently positive, validating environment is likely to support self-confidence; a persistently dismissive, devaluing environment can undermine it. Environmental input can lead to errors in both directions: an overly celebratory or unfoundedly positive input can promote an unrealistically high level of self-confidence — a setup for conflicts and disappointments. A persistently negative input can breed chronic self-doubt. In principle, these errors are correctable through introspective examination, a common target of psychotherapy.
One’s level of self-confidence may be realistic and on-target or off-target in either direction. Missing the realistic target occasionally is typically inconsequential; persistently missing it is often associated with mental pathology, internal strife, and functional limitations.
The biological underpinnings of self-confidence are presently unknown (at least to me). Hence, the following discussion focuses on the experiential factors that shape self-confidence. There are two categories of experience that are particularly relevant.
The first is straightforward: evidence of mastery. Experiences that amount to evidence of mastery in a given area normally support self-confidence in that area; experiences that amount to evidence of a lack of mastery normally undermine it. Consider the great basketball player Stephen Curry. Curry is one of the all-time greats — an extraordinary scorer who, for a number of seasons, averaged around 50% field-goal percentage and holds the NBA’s all-time record for most three-point baskets made, at over 3,000 and counting. Curry has expressed, unflinchingly, that every time he shoots, as he lets go of the ball, he “knows” it is going through the basket. Listening to this, one might think he is arrogant. But the indisputable evidence of his shooting mastery negates such an accusation. His high level of self-confidence is simply rational (which brings to mind the late, great Muhammad Ali, who rightfully said: “It ain’t bragging if you can back it up”). The evidence of Curry’s mastery is so strong that if he lacked self-confidence, it would be peculiar, if not pathological.
It is conceivable that Curry’s self-confidence might decline at some future point. If he sustained an injury resulting in a persistent, significant drop in his field-goal percentage, a loss of self-confidence would be realistic. It is also conceivable that he could lose his self-confidence as a result of a bout of major depression, even if his field-goal percentage were unchanged — in which case the loss would be unrealistic, reflecting a mental health problem. For comparison, John Mahnken (a first-team All-American and member of the 1946 national championship team, but not a great scorer) holds the NBA record for worst field-goal percentage, having made about 27% of his shots. On the reasonable assumption that Mahnken was in touch with reality, he probably lacked self-confidence as a shooter. However, if Mahnken had experienced a manic episode, it is likely to have manifested, in part, with an irrational rise of self-confidence in his shooting ability.
(For the record, I sincerely hope that Curry will not experience either an injury or major depression; and — I say this as a Boston Celtics fan, which goes to show you just how enlightened I happen to be.)
One’s mastery level in a particular area can be readily assessed by calmly reflecting on one’s past performance. When a fair and balanced review reveals solid evidence of mastery, self-doubt would be irrational. Conversely, if such reflection reveals a lack of mastery, a high level of self-confidence in that area would be rationally unfounded. An unrealistically high level of self-confidence can pay off briefly, but in the long run it usually manifests as arrogance, leading to interpersonal problems and, sooner or later, functional failures that result from taking on more than one can handle.
The second category of experience relevant to self-confidence is less obvious but no less important: one’s demonstrated ability to transcend the impact of feelings on one’s choice-making process. Historical evidence of one’s ability to make good choices regardless of one’s mood state supports it. A history of being ruled by one’s emotions — past experiences in which feelings dominate decision-making — undermines self-confidence.
The logic is this: we simply cannot predict how we will feel in the future. A minute from now, each of us may be confronting an intense physical or emotional sensation that, at the present moment, is unimaginable. Our ability to predict how we will feel is significantly less reliable than our already limited ability to predict other elements of our circumstances. For example, I can predict with considerable confidence where I will be five minutes from now — in all likelihood, sitting where I am, typing on my laptop. I have far less confidence in predicting how I will feel five minutes from now: I may be experiencing a headache, a wave of anxiety, or a moment of unexpected joy that I cannot currently anticipate. My ability to predict how I will feel five hours from now is essentially nonexistent. But, based on my history, I know that it would take an extremely strong feeling to derail me from what I am doing, a self-knowledge that supports my self-confidence.
The capacity to stay the course despite emotional turbulence is closely related to the concept of tolerance — the calm willingness to experience discomfort without reacting to it (as discussed in the Acceptance chapter), and is a central theme in both Buddhist and Stoic traditions. The mantra that captures it is simple and quite effective when actually applied: “No matter how I feel, I do what I committed to do.”
[Sidebar: 1) Much of medical training (in medical school, internship, and residency) places the trainee in difficult emotional states (not unlike military training, which systematically exposes trainees to physical and emotional extremes.) Most intensely, it happens against the backdrop of sleep deprivation while on call, but it is an integral part of the routine encounter with acute suffering and the drama of hospital crises. It is not ritualistic hazing, nor is it accidental. It is essential training — learning to transcend intense emotions so they do not interfere with one’s ability to think clearly and make the right call. No personal change between the first day and the last day of medical school is more striking than the change in self-confidence: Just about anyone who goes through the training is transformed, from being scared and filled with self-doubt to being decisive and confident (enough to give nurses, who generally have much more experience, orders!).
Unchecked, the self-confidence earned in one’s professional role can easily spill into other roles where it has not been earned, creating a problem. The physician who carries operating-room authority into a dinner party is a generic asshole; the soldier who carries battlefield decisiveness into a marriage is an abuser. They are not displaying self-confidence; they are misapplying it. This spillover is, at its core, a role confusion (as discussed in the Values chapter).
2) The acquired ability to transcend one’s emotions to meet the requirements of a given role captures the key distinction between a professional and an amateur. Consider: What is the same about a doctor, a lawyer, an NFL player, and a prostitute? The answer is that they all must be able to perform their jobs regardless of how they feel — which is what makes them “pros.” If they cannot transcend their feelings, they should not show up to do the job. The capacity to transcend one’s emotional state in the performance of a specific role is, arguably, the defining feature of professionalism.]
Self-Esteem
Self-confidence, as just discussed, is linked to specific functional capacities — it is earned and assessed within defined areas of performance. Self-esteem operates on a different level. It is global — the overall value one attributes to oneself, expressed as self-respect. A person can have high self-confidence in a specific domain and low self-esteem overall, and vice versa. A brilliant surgeon who excels in the operating room may carry profound self-doubt about their worth as a person. A person with no remarkable skills may possess a quiet, stable sense of self-worth. The two constructs overlap (more on this below), but they are not the same.
‘Esteem’ is a value one attributes to oneself (i.e., self-esteem) as well as to others. Since it is a key feature of relationships (with oneself and with others), it deserves exploration to uncover its foundation and what feeds it.
As I understand it, self-esteem (and the esteem attributed to others) is fed by three “streams,” each originating from a different source. The three streams converge to produce a “reservoir” — the overall sense of worth, but they are independent of one another; each can be robust or depleted regardless of the state of the other two. Understanding which stream is compromised is essential for addressing self-esteem problems effectively (treating self-esteem as a single, undifferentiated thing to be “boosted” — as much of the therapeutic and self-help industry does — is a fundamental error. In my clinical experience, such a single intervention applied to a three-source problem doesn’t work).
The first stream is the value of being alive — specifically, the value of being a living human being. The value of human life can be understood as a singularity: no human is more alive or more human than any other (as discussed in the Attitude chapter). The esteem associated with being a living human being — and its expression through respect — is the same for everyone. This understanding renders the first source the most stable of the three. The point of view from which human life can only have one value ensures that one’s value as a human being (anyone’s value) does not fluctuate with performance, circumstance, or the perception of others. (A disregard for the value of life is typically associated with the mental pathology of sociopathy, or antisocial personality disorder (Hare, 1999). The fact that such disregard constitutes a pathology suggests that the recognition of life’s value is part of normal brain function.)
Of course, the lives of the people we love feel extra precious. It is imperative to keep in mind that this added value is entirely subjective — a naturally occurring bias in loving relationships, out of step with objective reality. The life of a mass murderer cannot have a lesser value than the life of a great humanitarian; the life of a Nobel laureate cannot have a greater value than the life of a profoundly disabled person; and the life of my child cannot have more value than the life of my worst enemy. Understanding that there is but a single value to every human life is cardinal to addressing self-esteem problems. The primal feelings behind the notion that the Self has more or less value than others (which may be relevant in the survival arena) tend to be powerful and difficult to override, but rational analysis is our best instrument for counterbalancing these more primitive emotional drives.
The second stream is the value of one’s skill set. It is very different from the first one, in which the value is fixed and singular. In the second stream, value is fluid, hierarchical, and context-dependent. Furthermore, unlike the value of one’s life, the value of one’s skills is not inherent — it is determined by the environment in which one operates, shaped by supply and demand, and subject to change over time. Water-finding skills are precious in the Sahara Desert; the same skill set has little value in Seattle, where it sometimes seems like it never stops raining. Of course, the life of the person possessing the water-finding skill set has the same value regardless of whether they are in the Sahara or in Seattle.
It is useful, if not imperative, to maintain a realistic appreciation of the value of one’s skill set, particularly in the context of self-esteem problems. The value of one’s skills is the value that one’s society attributes to them, like it or not. The notion that one’s skill set is worth more — or less — than what the social environment attributes to it is a misperception worth exposing and correcting. Failing to separate the value of one’s skills from the value of one’s life is a common source of self-esteem problems. When the value of one’s skill set is perceived as low (be it one’s own or the other’s), the mind easily slides into the conclusion that one’s life is less valuable — a logical error with devastating psychological and interpersonal consequences.
From a practical standpoint, when one’s skill set appears to be undervalued by their environment, one has two rational options: acquire more highly valued skills (which generally involves some form of training) or relocate to an environment that attributes more value to one’s existing skills. Difficult as both options may be, they should be considered seriously if the alternative is chronic disgruntlement and tension around one’s self-worth.
This is also where self-confidence and self-esteem most directly overlap. A realistic, high level of self-confidence in a given area — grounded in evidence of mastery and the demonstrated capacity to transcend emotional turbulence — contributes to a robust second stream. A realistic assessment of one’s capabilities feeds it; an unrealistic one, in either direction, distorts it.
It is worth noting that the capacity to transcend emotional turbulence — the second category of self-confidence discussed above — is not itself a skill in the conventional sense. It is the “meta-capacity” that allows one’s skills to be reliably deployed. A person whose skills are hostage to their mood cannot be said to fully possess those skills; the reliable expression of mastery requires the capacity to perform regardless of how one feels.
The third stream is the value one derives from living by one’s system of values. Think of someone who impresses you as having high self-esteem — a person close to you, a public figure, even a fictional character. Odds are that, on reflection, this person registers as value-driven: the choices they make seem to be in line with their value system. Now think of anyone you respect — anyone you hold in high esteem. Odds are that this person(s) appears to live by their values. Conversely, people who seem oblivious or willing to betray their values are seen as unworthy of respect. (To make it less speculative, consider your own firsthand experience: choices you have made that are in accordance with your values likely contributed to your sense of self-worth. Where you made choices that conflict with your values, you are likely to have experienced a loss of it.)
The first prerequisite for living in accordance with one’s values is to know what they are — which is what the examination of one’s value system provides (as discussed in the Values chapter).
[Sidebar: The link between values and self-esteem is further supported by research examining the psychological impact of religion. Multiple studies suggest a positive correlation between religiosity and high self-esteem (Gebauer et al., 2012; Koenig et al., 2001; McCullough & Willoughby, 2009; Yonker et al., 2012). This correlation is, at least partially, explained by the fact that at the core of every major religion there is a system of values that the follower is expected to be familiar with and to adhere to in daily life. Since the essence of being religious is a commitment to live by the religion’s system of values, a connection between religiosity and self-esteem should not be surprising. Of course, a religious dogma spelling out a system of values for one to live by is not absolutely necessary, but, understandably, it can help. The alternative is to construct one’s own system of values, which may be less attractive to some as it requires considerable, lifelong contemplative effort; but it is an effort likely to yield reward in self-esteem currency.]
Self-confidence and self-esteem are on the list of often-discussed-poorly-understood constructs in psychological discourse. Self-confidence is task-specific, shaped by evidence of mastery and the demonstrated capacity to transcend emotional turbulence. Self-esteem is global, fed by three independent sources: the value of being a living human being (fixed, singular, innate), the value of one’s skill set (fluid, hierarchical, context-dependent), and the value derived from living by one’s system of values.
The practical implications are direct. If the first stream is compromised — if one operates from the point of view that some lives are worth more than others, including one’s own — the required corrective work is attitudinal (as discussed in the Attitude chapter). If the second stream is compromised — if one’s skill set is unrealistically undervalued, the corrective work is cognitive, aiming to correct the misperception. (If one is burdened by the fact that their skill set is given a low value by their environment, the required corrective approach is primarily one of problem-solving, as the primary solutions are to relocate or retrain.) If the third stream is compromised — if one is not living by one’s values — the work begins with the examination of one’s value system (as discussed in the Values chapter) and continues with the effort to align one’s choices with one’s values (as discussed in the Choice Making chapters in the Theory and in the Practice sections). Knowing which stream needs attention is the first step. Without it, the pursuit of self-esteem is a shot in the dark.
REFERENCES
American Psychiatric Association. (2022). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed., text rev.). American Psychiatric Association Publishing.
Bandura, A. (1977). Self-efficacy: Toward a unifying theory of behavioral change. Psychological Review, 84(2), 191–215. https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-295X.84.2.191
Bandura, A. (1997). Self-efficacy: The exercise of control. W. H. Freeman and Company.
Gebauer, J. E., Sedikides, C., & Neberich, W. (2012). Religiosity, social self-esteem, and psychological adjustment: On the cross-cultural specificity of the religiosity–self-esteem link. Psychological Science, 23(2), 158–160. https://doi.org/10.1177/0956797611427045
Hare, R. D. (1999). Without conscience: The disturbing world of the psychopaths among us. Guilford Press.
Koenig, H. G., McCullough, M. E., & Larson, D. B. (2001). Handbook of religion and health. Oxford University Press.
McCullough, M. E., & Willoughby, B. L. B. (2009). Religion, self-regulation, and self-control: Associations, explanations, and implications. Psychological Bulletin, 135(1), 69–93. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0014213
Yonker, J. E., Schnabelrauch, C. A., & DeHaan, L. G. (2012). The relationship between spirituality and religiosity on psychological outcomes in adolescents and emerging adults: A meta-analytic review. Journal of Adolescence, 35(2), 299–314. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.adolescence.2011.08.010