Wednesday, September 30, 2026

Critical Decisions and Rationality

You undoubtedly heard about him. He spent his professional life studying and teaching how we think, and was awarded a 2002 Nobel Prize for it.  His mega-bestseller book Thinking Fast and Slow sold more than 2.6 million print copies and 1.5 million audiobooks . It has been translated into more than 35 languages.  In short, Daniel Kahnemann was thoroughly capable of rational thought.  He is estimated to have had a net worth of 10 million dollars. So, you might instinctively wonder how such a person could commit suicide. But the more interesting and important question is this: How could the man who spent his professional life teaching the rest of us how easily human beings make irrational decisions make such an extraordinary decision himself?  That question becomes even more compelling when we discover what actually happened.

Kahneman did not appear to be responding to a sudden emotional crisis. According to reporting published a year after his death, he had made a deliberate decision to end his life through assisted suicide. The day before his death, he told a small circle of family and friends that he was traveling to Switzerland and that his life would end there. He apparently wanted to avoid what he regarded as the suffering and indignities that could accompany the final years of life.

That changes the question completely.  His was not necessarily a failure of intelligence, but  about what makes life worth continuing. And those are two very different questions.

Kahneman's Nobel Prize was awarded for his research into human judgment and decision-making under uncertainty. His work with Amos Tversky demonstrated something that traditional economic theory had largely overlooked: human beings are not consistently rational decision-makers. We rely upon mental shortcuts, or heuristics, and those shortcuts can produce systematic errors.

But there is a subtle point here that is easily missed. Understanding irrationality does not make a person rational.  Knowing about cognitive biases does not vaccinate a person against them.  A psychologist can understand depression and still become depressed. A physician can understand the dangers of smoking and still smoke. A financial expert can understand the mathematics of compound interest and still make terrible financial decisions. And a Nobel Prize-winning authority on judgment can still be confronted with a decision for which there is no objectively demonstrable “correct” answer.

Kahneman himself spent much of his career demonstrating precisely this limitation.  One of his most important insights was that our minds do not operate as a single, perfectly rational calculating machine. We use rapid, intuitive processes as well as slower, more deliberate forms of reasoning. The metaphor made famous in Thinking, Fast and Slow is that of System 1 and System 2. System 1 is rapid, automatic and intuitive.  System 2 is slower, more effortful and analytical. But neither system guarantees truth.

That is where Kahneman's own death becomes intellectually fascinating. We tend to assume that a rational person will always choose options that maximize life, health, money or longevity. But rationality cannot tell us what we should value in the first place. Reason can help answer the question, “Given my objectives, which course of action is most likely to achieve them?”  It cannot, by itself, answer the prior question: “What should my objectives be?”  That is a philosophical question, not merely a mathematical one.

Kahneman apparently placed an extraordinarily high value on autonomy and on avoiding what he regarded as the indignities associated with severe decline. His decision therefore cannot reasonably be evaluated simply by asking whether living longer would have produced more years of life.  He was making a different calculation. He was asking what those additional years would be worth. That distinction is critical.

Imagine two people who are given exactly the same medical prognosis. One says, “I want every possible day.” The other says, “I do not want to live through the final stage of decline.”  Which one is rational? There is no mathematical equation capable of answering that question without first assigning values to autonomy, dependency, suffering, pleasure, dignity, relationships and the meaning of continued existence.

This brings us directly back to Kahneman's life's work.  His research demonstrated that human decisions are profoundly influenced by loss aversion—our tendency to experience losses more intensely than equivalent gains. His work also showed how framing, reference points and expectations influence the way we evaluate alternatives. Perhaps, then, the most profound lesson of Kahneman's final decision is not that he somehow escaped the cognitive biases he spent his life studying.  It may be that he understood better than most people that nobody escapes them.

There is another important distinction.  Suicide associated with acute psychological crisis is not the same phenomenon as a carefully planned decision to seek assisted death at the end of life. The ethical, psychological and medical questions surrounding those circumstances are different, even though both involve an intentional decision to end one's life.

Research on suicidal behavior does, however, provide an intriguing connection to Kahneman's field.  Researchers studying suicide have found associations between suicidal behavior and impaired decision-making, cognitive rigidity, restricted consideration of alternatives, difficulties imagining alternative futures, and problems with cognitive control. One review describes suicidal crises partly as situations in which the person's ability to search for alternatives and simulate possible futures becomes severely constrained.

But those findings do not establish that Kahneman's decision was the product of impaired cognition. In fact, we do not possess sufficient evidence to make such a conclusion. And that is precisely where responsible thinking becomes important.

It would be extraordinarily easy to look backward at Kahneman's death and construct a convenient psychological explanation. We could say he was depressed. We could say he was afraid of aging. We could say he had become cognitively impaired. We could say he had become a victim of the very biases he had spent his life studying.  But unless the evidence establishes those things, they remain speculation.

Kahneman himself warned us about this kind of retrospective certainty.  In his Nobel autobiography, he recalled an early experience involving a patient who had committed suicide. What struck him was the contradiction between the powerful retrospective feeling that the suicide had somehow been inevitable and the obvious fact that it had not been predicted beforehand. He recognized this as an example of what later became part of his interest in the hindsight effect.  That observation seems remarkably relevant here. Once we know that Kahneman deliberately chose assisted suicide, it is tempting to believe that we understand why he did it. We don't.

We know something about his decision. We do not know everything that was happening inside his mind.  And perhaps that is the most important lesson of all.  Knowing how people make decisions is not the same thing as knowing why one particular person made one particular decision.

Kahneman spent decades showing us that the human mind is capable of constructing convincing explanations after the fact. We see an outcome and then instinctively construct a story that makes the outcome appear predictable.  But predictable is not the same as inevitable.  And understandable is not the same as justified.

Kahneman's death therefore presents us with an uncomfortable intellectual paradox. The man who devoted his life to demonstrating the limitations of human judgment ultimately made a decision that no one else can fully evaluate for him.  Perhaps that is because the final question of life is not simply a question of rationality.  It is a question of values. How much is autonomy worth?  How much dependency is acceptable?  How much uncertainty can we tolerate? How much suffering would we accept in exchange for additional time? And perhaps most importantly: Who gets to decide?

Those questions cannot be answered by System 1 or System 2 alone.  They cannot be answered by a Nobel Prize or bank account. And they cannot be answered by another person looking from the outside. They are questions each of us eventually has to confront for ourselves. Kahneman spent his life teaching us to be suspicious of our own certainty. His death may have provided one final lesson: Sometimes the wisest thing we can say about another person's critical decision is that we do not know enough to know exactly why he made it.  Perhaps the wisest thing we can say about our own critical decisions is that we had thought carefully enough beforehand to have a good idea about why we made them.

References

Dombrovski, A. Y., & Hallquist, M. N. (2022). Search for solutions, learning, simulation, and choice processes in suicidal behavior. WIREs Cognitive Science, 13(1), e1561.

Kahneman, D. (2011). Thinking, fast and slow. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Nobel Prize Outreach. (2026). Daniel Kahneman – Facts. NobelPrize.org.

Nobel Prize Outreach. (2026). Daniel Kahneman – Biographical. NobelPrize.org.

Perrah, M., & Wichman, H. (1987). Cognitive rigidity in suicide attempters. Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior, 17(3), 251–255.

Saffer, B. Y., & Klonsky, E. D. (2015). Cognitive distortions and suicide attempts. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 39, 443–451.

Wenzel, A., Brown, G. K., & Beck, A. T. (2009). Cognitive therapy for suicidal patients: Scientific and clinical applications. American Psychological Association.

Zweig, J. (2025). Reporting on Daniel Kahneman's assisted suicide, as summarized by Kirkus Reviews.


Tuesday, September 15, 2026

Prioritizing Approval Or Authenticity ?

We all face a choice that is rarely as simple as it first appears: Do I say and do what will gain the approval of others, or do I say and do what is genuinely consistent with who I am?  Most of us would probably answer, “Authenticity.” It sounds like the obvious choice. Be yourself. Stand up for what you believe. Don't live your life according to someone else's expectations. But real life is not that simple.

Approval has value. We need other people. We need acceptance, affection, respect, cooperation, and belonging. Sometimes adapting our behavior to the expectations of others is not weakness or dishonesty. It is simply being socially intelligent.  The problem begins when approval becomes more important than authenticity—when maintaining someone else's favorable opinion requires us to repeatedly suppress, distort, or deny ourselves. The choice between approval and authenticity can therefore tell us a great deal about a person's self-esteem, psychological needs, and identity.  It also raises a more fundamental question: Who is actually directing the person's life—the person, or the people whose approval the person wants?   Notice that I used the word “wants” and not “needs.”  I did so because sometimes the nature of the dysfunctional issue is confusing what we want from others with what we truly need from them. 

The first factor is that we often want to belong.  Human beings are inherently social. Acceptance by others has consequences for our emotional and social well-being. Consequently, concern about what other people think is not, by itself, evidence of low self-esteem.

A person may choose approval because maintaining a relationship matters. A spouse may compromise.  A parent may restrain an opinion for the sake of a child. A friend may avoid saying something unnecessarily hurtful. A worker may adapt to the expectations of a workplace.

These choices do not necessarily represent inauthenticity. They may represent maturity. The important question is not: “Did I modify my behavior to accommodate someone else?” The more revealing question is: “What did I have to give up in order to obtain that approval?” If the answer is nothing essential, accommodation may simply be part of healthy social functioning. If the answer is my values, beliefs, preferences, boundaries, or sense of self, something very different may be happening.

Research has long recognized that people's sense of worth can become dependent upon particular sources of validation, including the approval of others. Crocker and colleagues describe these as contingencies of self-worth—conditions that a person believes must be satisfied in order to feel worthy. That distinction is crucial. Wanting approval is normal. However, needing approval in order to feel worthwhile is psychologically different.

The second factor is strength and stability of one's self-esteem.  A person with relatively secure self-esteem can tolerate disapproval.  Someone may disagree with me without destroying my sense of who I am. Someone may dislike me without proving that I am unworthy. Someone may reject an opinion of mine without requiring me to abandon it.

This does not mean that a person with healthy self-esteem is indifferent to criticism. Quite the opposite. A secure person can listen to criticism because criticism does not automatically become a threat to identity. The more fragile the person's self-worth, however, the greater the temptation to obtain reassurance from other people.

This creates a potentially troublesome equation: Their approval = evidence that I am acceptable. And therefore: Their disapproval = evidence that something is wrong with me.

Research on contingencies of self-worth suggests that when self-esteem is heavily invested in particular domains, people can become especially motivated to protect themselves from failure or disapproval in those domains. That can interfere with learning, relationships, autonomy, and self-regulation. Thus, the question is not simply whether someone has “high” or “low” self-esteem. A person may appear confident while having a self-esteem system that is highly dependent upon external validation. The better question is: “How much of my sense of worth depends upon other people's reactions to me?”

The third factor is autonomy which is more than independence. It means experiencing oneself as the author of their actions.  Self-Determination Theory, developed principally by Edward Deci and Richard Ryan, identifies autonomy, competence, and relatedness as fundamental psychological needs. Research in this tradition suggests that people function better when they experience their behavior as self-endorsed rather than controlled by external pressures.

This gives us another way to understand the approval-versus-authenticity dilemma. If I choose to please you because I genuinely want to please you, I am still exercising autonomy.  But if I believe: “I have no choice. I must please you or I will not be acceptable,” my behavior is no longer being directed primarily by my own values. It is being directed by anticipated externally-controlled consequences. That distinction can be subtle. Two people may behave identically while experiencing their behavior very differently. One thinks: “I want to do this.” The other thinks: “I have to do this if I want them to accept me.”  The behavior is the same. The psychological meaning is not.

The fourth factor is fear of rejection.  Sometimes approval is pursued not because it feels particularly rewarding, but because its absence feels threatening. This is an important distinction.  A person may not be thinking: “I want everyone to like me.” They may instead be thinking: “I cannot afford for them not to like me.” That is a very different psychological position.

Fear of rejection can make authenticity expensive. It can cause a person to remain silent when they disagree, laugh when they are not amused, agree when they do not agree, apologize when they have done nothing wrong, or adopt opinions that are socially safer than their own. Over time, this can produce a curious form of psychological dependence.  The person becomes increasingly skilled at determining what others want—and increasingly uncertain about what they themselves want.

The fifth factor is identity that answers a fundamental question: “Who am I?”  A reasonably coherent identity provides an internal reference point. It allows a person to evaluate choices according to personal values, commitments, preferences, beliefs, and goals. When identity is less settled, external opinions can become disproportionately influential. The person may effectively borrow an identity from the people around them.  They become what their family expects.  Then what their friends expect. Then what their employer expects. Then what their social group expects. Then what their culture expects.

There is nothing inherently wrong with belonging to groups or adopting shared values. Identity is partly social. Danger comes when social conformity replaces self-authorship.  Authenticity is closely related to this concept of self-authorship. Ryan and Ryan describe authenticity in terms that include autonomy, congruence, and genuineness. They argue that authenticity involves acting in ways that are congruent with one's values and interests rather than merely acting to please others or obtain rewards. Authenticity, therefore, can be demanding.  It requires knowing—or at least honestly attempting to discover—what one actually values.

The sixth factor is the importance of the relationship. Not every relationship deserves the same degree of resistance to social pressure. There is a difference between modifying one's behavior to maintain an important relationship and modifying one's identity to maintain it. A healthy relationship permits differences. A controlling relationship may require conformity. That distinction matters.  If I disagree with my spouse about where to eat, compromise is sensible. If I disagree with my spouse about something central to my values, and I must pretend to agree in order to preserve the relationship, the issue has changed.  The question becomes: “Can this relationship tolerate the existence of a separate person?”  Healthy relationships generally allow two people to remain two people.  When approval requires psychological surrender, the relationship has become more than a relationship. It has become a source of behavioral control.

The seventh factor is what the choice produces over time. Choosing approval occasionally may produce harmony. Choosing approval repeatedly at the expense of authenticity may produce something else: resentment.  The person may begin to resent the people whose approval they have worked so hard to obtain. But there is an even deeper possibility. They may eventually resent themselves.  That is because every act of self-suppression contains an implicit message: “What I really think, want, or believe is less important than what you want me to be.” Repeated often enough, that message can become internalized. The individual no longer needs someone else to demand conformity.  They begin demanding it of themselves.  This is one reason contingent self-worth can become problematic. The pursuit of validation may initially motivate a person, but when maintaining self-esteem becomes the dominant objective, it can interfere with autonomy and adaptive self-regulation.

Consequences and Choices

There are consequences of choosing authenticity  Authenticity can produce disagreement. It can produce rejection.  It can cost friendships.  It can create family conflict. It can threaten careers. It can result in being misunderstood.  Therefore, choosing authenticity does not guarantee happiness. Sometimes authenticity requires accepting a painful consequence.

But there is an important psychological difference between: “They rejected me because I refused to become someone I am not” and “They accepted me because I became what they wanted.”  The first may hurt one's feelings.  The second can gradually erode one's identity.

Authenticity therefore should not be confused with stubbornness. A truly authentic person must also be capable of changing their mind.  If evidence demonstrates that I am wrong, changing my position can be authentic.  If experience reveals that one of my values needs reconsideration, changing it can be authentic. Authenticity is not loyalty to one's previous opinion. It is loyalty to one's honest process of evaluating what one believes and values.

Prioritizing approval tells us about one’s self-esteem.  Not necessarily that a person has low self-esteem. Rather,  it may reveal where the person has placed the conditions for feeling worthy. If approval is merely pleasant, the person can tolerate its absence. If approval is psychologically necessary, the person's self-worth may be contingent upon external evaluation.

Crocker and colleagues found that contingencies of self-worth can be domain-specific. A person may be relatively secure in one area while being highly dependent upon validation in another. Someone may therefore have strong self-esteem professionally but fragile self-esteem romantically. Another person may be confident intellectually but extremely dependent upon social acceptance.

This is why asking whether someone has “high” or “low” self-esteem may not tell us enough. We should also ask: “What threatens their self-esteem?” and “What do they need from others in order to maintain it?” Those questions may reveal much more. 

The approval/authenticity choice also reveals what psychological need is dominant at the moment. The person choosing approval may be prioritizing: Belonging — “I need to remain part of the group.”  Security — “I need to avoid rejection or conflict.”  Affection — “I need to feel loved.”  Status — “I need to be respected.”  Validation — “I need confirmation that I am worthwhile.”  Safety — “Disagreement could have serious consequences.”  Control by others — “Their reaction determines what I am permitted to do.” Identity preservation — paradoxically, “I need their approval because their acceptance has become part of who I am.”

The person choosing authenticity may instead be prioritizing: Autonomy — “I need to direct my own life.”  Integrity — “I need my behavior to correspond with my values.” Self-respect — “I need to be able to live with my own choices.”  Congruence — “I need my public self and private self to be reasonably consistent.”  Identity — “I need to remain recognizable to myself.” Growth — “I need the freedom to discover and revise who I am.”

Neither list is inherently superior. The psychological question is which need dominates, why it dominates, and what price the person is willing to pay to satisfy it.

Ultimately, the approval/authenticity dilemma may tell us something profound about identity. If a person's identity is primarily externally referenced, the person asks: “Who do they want me to be?” If identity is primarily internally referenced, the person asks:” Who am I, and what do I believe I should do?” A psychologically healthy identity probably requires both. We are not isolated individuals. Other people matter. Their opinions sometimes provide valuable information. Their criticism can expose our blind spots. Their approval can be emotionally meaningful. Their rejection can hurt. But other people cannot be allowed to become the sole authors of our identity. That is where authenticity becomes important.

Research examining authenticity within Self-Determination Theory indicates that people can experience greater authenticity when their social environments support autonomy, and that authenticity varies across situations rather than being a fixed characteristic that someone either possesses or lacks. This is particularly important. Authenticity is not an all-or-nothing personality trait. We may be highly authentic with one person and highly approval-seeking with another. We may be authentic at work but approval-dependent in a romantic relationship. We may be authentic with friends but conform to family expectations. The relevant question is therefore not: “Am I authentic?” It is: “Where, with whom, and under what circumstances do I stop being authentic?” That question can be remarkably revealing.

Perhaps the deepest mistake is to frame the issue as: Approval or authenticity? The real objective should be: Authenticity with the capacity for healthy accommodation. I do not have to reject other people's opinions in order to remain myself. I do not have to be difficult in order to be authentic. I do not have to say everything I think. I do not have to insist on getting my way. I do not have to sacrifice relationships merely to prove that I am independent. But neither should I have to continually sacrifice myself to preserve those relationships. The mature position lies somewhere between narcissistic self-assertion and submissive conformity. It is the ability to say: “I care what you think, but what you think does not determine who I am.” That may be one of the clearest signs of secure self-esteem. I can value your approval without requiring it. I can listen to your criticism without surrendering my identity. I can compromise without feeling that I have betrayed myself. I can change my mind without feeling that I have lost myself. And I can tolerate your disapproval without automatically concluding that I am wrong.

In the final analysis, the question is not whether we ever choose approval over authenticity. We inevitably will. The more important question is: How much of ourselves are we willing to exchange for approval—and what does that exchange eventually cost us? Because approval obtained by pretending to be someone else is not necessarily acceptance of me. It may simply be acceptance of the person I have learned to perform. And there is an important difference between being accepted and being known.  Authenticity gives us at least a chance to be both.

 

References

Crocker, J., & Wolfe, C. T. (2001). Contingencies of self-worth. Psychological Review, 108(3), 593–623.

Crocker, J., Knight, K. M., & Cooper, M. L. (2005). Contingencies of self-worth. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 14(4), 200–203.

Crocker, J., Brook, A. T., Niiya, Y., & Villacorta, M. (2006). The pursuit of self-esteem: Contingencies of self-worth and self-regulation. Journal of Personality, 74(6), 1749–1772.

Deci, E. L., & Ryan, R. M. (1987). The support of autonomy and the control of behavior. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 53(6), 1024–1037.

Ryan, R. M., & Deci, E. L. (2000). Self-determination theory and the facilitation of intrinsic motivation, social development, and well-being. American Psychologist, 55(1), 68–78.

Ryan, W. S., & Ryan, R. M. (2019). Toward a social psychology of authenticity: Exploring within-person variation in autonomy, congruence, and genuineness using self-determination theory. Review of General Psychology, 23(1), 99–112.

MacDonald, G., Saltzman, J. L., & Leary, M. R. (2003). Social approval and trait self-esteem. Journal of Research in Personality, 37(2), 23–40.