Optimism
is generally considered one of the most desirable psychological
qualities. We like to be with optimists more than we like to be with
pessimists, and we believe that optimism is generally a more successful
life strategy. Being a “cockeyed optimist” (in the words of the famous
"South Pacific" song) means that you’ll be better able to cope with
whatever challenges come your way. To Leuven University’s Vera Hoorens
and colleagues (2016), however, being an optimist can come at a price:
It may make you look naïve, and you may be in for disappointment when
your sunny predictions fail to materialize.
There’s another trap involved with optimism, and it occurs when you fall prey to the hubris hypothesis. As noted by the Belgian team,
the hubris hypothesis involves comparing yourself favorably and
explicitly with other people. This leads others to believe that you hold
disparaging attitudes toward them, because you’re letting them know
that you think of yourself as superior. It’s a particular form of pride
in which the claims you make about your own worth come at the expense of
acknowledging that of other people. The example used by Hoorens et al.
contrasts the statement “I am a better friend than others” with “I am a
good friend.” When you make the comparative statement with others,
you’re showing an explicit form of hubris. When you simply state what a
good friend you are, the claim of superiority is implicit, and it's no
harm, no foul to everyone who hears you make that claim.
When optimism involves a similar comparative spin, it’s likely to
trigger the same reaction as explicit hubris. If you think the odds of
something bad happening to you are lower than the odds of something bad
happening to others, according to this view, you’re invoking the hubris
hypothesis. Why should you be so immune to misfortune? What makes you so
much luckier than the people around you? When it comes to something
favorable, why should you be so much more likely than your competitors
to get a job for which you’ve applied? In terms of absolute optimism, you can think that you’re qualified for the job. If you’re using comparative
optimism, though, you believe you’re more qualified than everyone else,
and therefore, you should get the job — and of course, they shouldn't.
In the two experiments conducted by Hoorens and her team,
participants rated the warmth and competence of claimants (people making
claims about themselves) expressed in either absolute or comparative
terms.
In the first experiment, the researchers presented three scenarios depicting individuals who were either optimistic or pessimistic about living to be old, finding romantic happiness,
and experiencing happy family relationships. Absolute optimism was
represented by having the claimant project optimism for him or herself
without comparison to other students; comparative optimists projected
having more positive outcomes than would the average other student.
Participants then rated the claimants on five traits reflecting warmth (forgiving,
helpful, honest, loving, polite) and five reflecting competence
(ambitious, cheerful, competent, independent, intellectual). They also
rated how much they would want to be around these individuals. In the
second experiment, the claimants also indicated whether they would have
more favorable outcomes not just compared to the average other student,
but compared to the participant him or herself.
People rated the comparative optimists less warmly than the absolute
optimists, and as a result, didn’t want to affiliate with them. The
second experiment, with its added feature of having relative optimists
believe they were better off than the participants, provided the full
test of the hubris hypothesis, because the sunny outcomes expected by
the claimants came at the expense of the participants themselves.
The authors concluded, therefore, that “optimism loses some of its
appeal when it is expressed in a comparative than an absolute manner and
that it does so because comparative expressions of optimism suggest
that the claimant views the observers’ future gloomily” (p. 9).
Ironically, most people do prefer to see themselves as “better” than
the average person which, of course, is an impossibility. What happens
with the hubris hypothesis is that we don’t like it when someone else
openly expresses that viewpoint. It’s fine to think you’re luckier,
happier, or more likable than everyone else, but if you happen to voice
this assessment, you’ll end up facing the exact opposite outcome.
One reason we don’t like hearing others brag in relative terms about
their qualities is that, as the Belgian team notes, we’re always
processing information about other people through the somewhat
egocentric eyes of our own self-images. If your best friend’s mother is
constantly trying to show how much better a cook she is than everyone
else, you won’t go over there for dinner, no matter how good the food
actually is. Her tendency to self-promote puts your own mother, or
perhaps you, in the position of seeming inferior. For her part, she
won’t see how much she’s offended you and will be puzzled when you turn
down invitations that seem so well-intentioned.
In summary, we know that bragging is the kind of
behavior that most of us would rather avoid being exposed to. These
studies on comparative optimism show, further, that it’s the hubris
expressed at the expense of others that make that bragging so
objectionable. Optimism is certainly one well-known path to fulfillment.
As long as you can express it without casting aspersions on the
possible fates of others, you’ll be able to make full use of its
advantages.
Copyright Susan Krauss Whitbourne 2017
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