Has intelligence anything to do with personality? It certainly has, in many ways. One who is slow in learning adapts himself poorly to other persons and remains out of touch with his social environment. "Tact" depends partly on instinctive liking for society, no doubt, but partly on the ability to perceive what others want, and on the imagination to put yourself in their place. High principles require the ability to reason things out and see them in perspective. Statistical studies of the rulers of Europe, for a period of several centuries, show that on the whole those with higher intelligence were also of better character and personality. Criminals, taken as a whole, average rather low in intelligence; and it may even be doubted whether the clever, scheming rascal, who defrauds widows of their money, or trains feeble-minded boys to pick pockets for him, has, after all, the brains of the man who can easily see how such schemes could be worked but decides against them himself because he sees something better worth doing.
A sense of inferiority, either physical or mental, is apt to affect the personality unfavorably. It does not necessarily produce humble behavior; far from that, it often leads to a nervous assertiveness. An apparently disdainful individual is often really shy and unsure of himself. Put a man where he can see he is equal to his job and at the same time is accomplishing something worth while, and you often see considerable improvement in his personality.
The Self
In a broad, objective sense, the self is the individual, but in a more subjective sense the self is what the individual knows about himself, how he conceives himself, how he feels about himself, what he plans and wishes for himself. It is reasonable to suppose that the newly born infant does not [{556}] distinguish himself from other objects. Perhaps his foot, as he sees it, seems simply an object among others, like a toy; but he soon learns to connect the visual appearance with the cutaneous and kinesthetic sensations from the foot, and these sensations, along with the organic, always retain in large measure the subjective quality of belonging to the self, whereas sights, sounds, odors and tastes seem to belong to objects distinct from the self.
If we ask how the child comes to make the distinction between the self and the not-self, we have to call to mind the assertiveness that manifests itself very early in the child's behavior--how he resists being pushed and pulled about, struggles against being held, and in many ways, more and more complex as he develops, shows that he has a "will of his own". It is in resisting and overcoming external things that he comes to distinguish himself from them.
Not only external things, but other persons particularly, have to be encountered and resisted by the child; and often, too, he has to submit to them, after a struggle. Probably he distinguishes between himself and other people even more sharply than between himself and inanimate things. Ask any one to tell you what he knows about himself, and he will begin to tell you how he differs from others. Thus the individual's conception of himself is largely a product of his social experience.
The self is first known as wish or will, and probably that always remains the core of any one's conception of himself. That is to say, I think of myself first of all as wishing, aiming, purposing, resisting, striving, competing. But I may come to know myself more objectively. By dint of experience I know something of my limitations. I know I am not muscular enough to do this, nor mathematical enough to do that, nor artistic enough to do the other. In this progressive age, some children even know their own IQ. We [{557}] have frequent occasion to measure ourselves against others, or against tasks, and lay some of the lessons to heart. Though most of us are probably inclined to overrate ourselves, many will be found to give a pretty exact estimate of themselves. It is surprising that this should be so, in view of the tendency to believe what one wishes, and of the deep-seated desire for superiority or at least against inferiority. It shows that, after all, there is a good deal of fidelity to fact in our make-up.
The word "self-assertion", which has been used more or less throughout the book as a name for the native tendency to resist, persist, master, dominate, display oneself and seek social recognition, can now be seen to be not entirely a good word for the purpose. It seems to imply that the self-assertive individual is necessarily conscious of the self. From what has just been said, it can be seen that this would be putting the cart before the horse. The self-assertive impulse precedes, consciousness of self follows and depends on self-assertion. A true estimate of oneself and one's limitations arises from self-assertion plus experience of failure and the necessity of giving up and submitting.
Self-assertion is not identical with selfishness. Selfishness aims to get, self-assertion to do. Selfish behavior is, however, often dictated by self-assertion, as when a person wishes to get and have, in order to be able to show by his possessions what a great man he is. But sometimes self-assertion squelches selfishness, leading a person to renounce present gain without hope of later gain in compensation, just because he sees in such renunciation the best chance for mastery and proving himself "the captain of his soul".