The shiftless person, in the sense in which I define the words, is the person who does not move often enough, who rests too long on one particular set of habits so that he allows the world to move away from him while he is left high and dry. Or he allows himself to get fixed in one little set of habits and becomes a person with one idea. That is shiftlessness, the person who cannot accommodate or adapt himself.
The opposite of this is instability—the defect of the person who shifts too often, who cannot stay in one field long enough. In the physical field this applies to people with motor nervousness, people who never can keep still. But we are more interested, of course, in the psychical side of it. Any piece of work can be said to have three phases, something like the phases that Sir Almoth Wright has emphasized in his writings on immunity. We have first a stage of interest and elation, then a slump, a depressed or negative phase, as Wright said, a stage when things are not going smoothly or when organization seems endlessly complicated. Then is the time when, if we are of an unstable type, we throw up our work. The unstable person cannot believe that the undertaking is going on and up to a third or positive phase, which in the end will be on a higher level than the phase in which we started. Normal people habitually expect these three phases in every human undertaking. They foresee the negative phase before they get out of the first one. Hence they are not astounded or bitter when the inevitable slump comes in the second phase. But the unstable person breaks off at that point and tries something else. It constitutes one of the most serious blots in any one's record if we find that he has changed his work four or five times already. "Why did you leave your first job?" we ask, and, "Why did you leave the second one?" There is never a satisfactory reason for so many changes. These people are rolling stones; they gather no moss. They never accumulate skill, power, and money as the result of having stuck long enough in one place.
We see mental instability also in temperament, in spirits. Many people get into trouble because they do not realize their own "negative" and "positive" phases. Most people, we say, have their ups and downs. But if we take our ups and downs too seriously, then we may talk about suicide as so many people do. It is in these emotionally unstable phases that people give offence to others, quarrel with their families, lose their jobs.
Instability is much less important in the adolescent stage. Many a parent has been in despair over his adolescent children. "Nothing good ever can come out of that boy. He is too unstable," the parent is apt to say. Yet great good often does come out of such a boy, simply because he grows older. Such a boy is generally between thirteen and nineteen. Tremendous physical changes are going on, which are rather more than he can manage. Hence he becomes for a time unreliable, capricious, moody. There is almost no degree of mental instability and unsatisfactory conduct which may not wholly disappear as we get past the adolescent stage.
On the other hand, the older a person is the more serious the outlook in a case of instability. A woman in the vicinity of sixty drifted into my hands some years ago, after having been the round of doctors whose diagnosis was essentially instability. Although I labored very long and prayerfully with that individual, I cannot say that I produced any considerable effect.
Remember always the possibility that such instability is due to drugs. Among the most unstable people are the morphine-takers, and because that has among other symptoms concealment and lying, it does not easily come to light. In the evening the morphine-taker is full of prowess, is full of hope, ready to make engagements for nine o'clock the next morning. But he almost never turns up for that engagement the next morning. This morning depression is common also in many other diseases, such as neurasthenia and that rare disease, anemia. The anemic patient has a hard time getting up in the morning, but it is the fault of his red corpuscles and not of his character.
Another phase of instability is abnormal suggestibility, abnormal openness to influence or "suggestion" in the psychological sense. I cannot count the number of fond but foolish mothers who have said to me about a child, "John is a good boy, only he is weak. He gets led astray by his companions." Everybody is and ought to be somewhat suggestible, normally suggestible. The man who is not suggestible is the person with a monomania, who can see nothing but his own view, is stupidly attached to one set of ideas and so cannot learn. But one can easily be too suggestible. Over-suggestible people run after every craze, are impressed with each new religion, or are tremendously excited with each new friend and think of each new experience: "Ah! This is what I have been looking for all my life. Nothing else matters." This is especially common at the adolescent age, but it is a danger for all of us, men and women of every age. We get carried away by popular crazes, by influences, by suggestions, so that we cannot remember the good that there was in our previous beliefs and interests. If so we are mentally unstable in this respect.
We see in every dispensary many cases of abnormal physical suggestibility, people who think that they have caught every disease that they hear about. Among medical students and nurses in training there are always some who become convinced that they have the disease which they have just been studying in the hospital. In the social assistant's work as a taker of histories she must remember that. Highly suggestible people give curiously misleading histories because they become obsessed with the idea that they have some terrible disease. There are three examples of abnormal suggestibility which in my experience recur with especial frequency: heart disease, cancer, insanity. People are amazingly prone to fancy that they have heart disease. If they have any symptoms in that part of the body where they are taught to believe that the heart resides, or if they have heard anybody talk of heart disease, or especially if anybody whom they know has recently died of heart disease, there are many people likely first to believe that they have heart trouble, and then to have actual symptoms which they attribute to heart disease. They often say nothing about this fear. That is just why it is so essential for social workers to dig it out in the course of their history-taking. When people are afraid of a thing they are especially apt to conceal that fear.