Left or Right Side? Self-understanding vs Self-deception: An introduction to the “Conscience Chart”
[Reading Time: 8 minutes]
Introduction:
Self-knowledge: An ancient philosophical perspective
Even the Ancients understood that true knowledge begins with accurate self-knowledge. To the degree that the words inscribed over the Oracle at Delphi were
“Know Thyself” (gnōthi seauton)
And while the original meaning of the phrase likely communicated the idea of “knowing your limits,” Socrates and his philosophical heirs came to see it in more comprehensive terms.
His student, Xenophon (c. 430–354 BC), presents a conversation between Socrates and an ambitious and highly educated young man (Euthydemus). Seeing his potential yet understanding that his overconfidence could prove disastrous, the old philosopher pursues the below line of questioning:
“Then did you notice somewhere on the temple the inscription ‘Know thyself'?” (Gnothi seauton)
“I did.”
“And did you pay no heed to the inscription?
Or did you attend to it and try to consider who you were?”
“Indeed I can safely say that I did not; because I felt sure that I knew that already;
for I could hardly know anything else if I did not even know myself”
(Xenophon, Memorabilia, 4.2.24-25).
In this short excerpt, we see that even with all his brazen confidence Euthydemus even admits that if he doesn’t know himself then he can’t really know anything else. And with this his admission of this critical importance of self-knowledge being a starting point, Socrates then guides him into greater understanding .
And though we won’t examine them here, we could highlight this theme in further dialogues of another of Socrates’ students, Plato, ranging from the Phaedrus, 229e-230a to the Apology, 21d-22a to Protagoras, 343b, etc.
Moving forward, however, in this conversation with Euthydemus, Socrates next warns of the great evil that comes from self-deception.
From self-knowledge to self-deception
Here in the form of questions, Socrates makes two clear points:
“Is it not clear too that through self-knowledge men come to much good?
And through self-deception (epseusthai: The middle voice of pseudō: ‘lying to oneself’ and ‘being in a state of falsehood’) men come to the greatest of evils?’ (pleista kaka, 4.2.26).
That is to say, if we don’t know who we are and live in a state of self-delusion, great harm will inevitably ensue.
Yet Socrates goes further, next revealing that the layers of our self-deception radiate outwards, affecting not only ourselves, but also our view of others, our work and even all our affairs:
“Those who do not know and are deceived in their estimate of their own powers, are similarly disposed toward other people and other human affairs.
They know neither what they need,
nor what they are doing,
nor those with whom they converse;
but being wholly mistaken (diamartanō: an intensification [diá] of the Greek NT verb most often used for ‘sin’ and ‘error’ [hamartánō]) in all these respects,
they fail to come to the good and stumble into evil” (4.2.27).
That is to say, our false or deceived judgements about ourselves become like a virus that infects everything it touches.
And the final result is our being led “into evil.”
A great warning.
But one that underlies much of the Greek tragic literature...and, as we’ll see, marks the dividing line between Shakespeare’s tragedies and comedies two millennia later.
Self-deception in Greek Tragedy: A word on the Sphinx
Moving, then, from philosophy into the realm of tragic drama, we can direct our attention to the extraordinary trilogy of Oedipus Rex.
As the story unfolds, we begin to see that what is driving the narrative engine of the play is not the intersecting plotlines of murder, disease, plague and political intrigue.
Everything hinges upon one thing: self-knowledge vs self-deception.
If the family secrets are brought into the light and confronted, there is the possibility of healing. If not, only tragedy awaits.
The play opens after Oedipus has just solved the Sphinx’s riddle and has been declared the "Savior of Thebes."
Savior and yet, if he does not confront his past, Destroyer…
The Sphinx, as we remember, was an absolutely brutal creature. Herself the daughter of Typhon (the Storm-giant) and Echidna (the "Mother of All Monsters"), she was the literal offspring of chaos and violence. She is the archetype of the “Devouring Mother” who dominates her offspring through unremitting control (C. G. Jung, Symbols of Transformation in CW 5, §§260–270). And though she, in one sense nurtures her children, she ultimately dominates them, threatening to, as it were, swallow their ego whole.
In our modern context, she might be the overbearing ‘soccer’ or ‘homeschool mom’ who keeps children under her tight control in a way that prevents any genuine development outside of her dominance. She rules over the mount of their home, controlling her household through her riddles.
But what is more, her sister was Hydra, the multi-headed serpent of proliferating trauma. Cut off one head and two more grow up in its place.
As in to say, fail to address the root cause and more pathologies emerge.
If we experience intense chest pain or back pain or vertigo or panic attacks or insomnia and go to our physician who simply orders labs and imaging then prescribes medications, the symptoms may improve but two more worse pathologies may grow up in its place.
It is just like the woman with the issue of blood who
“had suffered many things from many physicians” and
“had spent all that she had” and
“was no better, but rather grew worse” (Mk 5:26).
From Hydra to Cerberus: The deepening layers of the unconscious
But going still further, the brother of the Sphinx was Cerberus, the three-headed dog that guarded the Underworld. The vicious guardian, we might say, of our personal, familial and cultural unconscious worlds…who ‘barks’ and ‘bites back’ whenever we get too close to the truths we’ve so effectively buried.
Or our family has generationally suppressed.
Or our culture has blocked out of sight (the ‘collective unconscious’).
And upon such a city blinded and collectively held captive by this three-headed guardian, Cerbereus, the Sphinx descends with greater levels of control. When the narrative of the play opens, the city of Thebes, blind to what actually threatens them most, believes they have been set free when Oedipus conquers the Sphinx.
Yet this is only the beginning of the terrors.
The riddle of the Sphinx
The Sphinx, we learn, had been sent to Thebes by the gods as a punishment for the crimes of the previous King, Laius. Setting herself upon Mount Phikion, she ruled over the city through psychological and physical terror.
Demanding a deadly “toll” for passage, she spoke a riddle to every passerby. If they solved it, they could pass unharmed. If they failed, they would be strangled (the word, sphingein, from which her name is derived, means to ‘strangle’). With their hope of solving her riddles lost, they were then eaten alive—whole.
This sort of psychological oppression was incredibly unique because it gave the victim a false sense of agency. That is to say, they had the "opportunity" to save themselves through their intellectual powers, yet lacked the wisdom to do so. This is a critically important dimension of the play and will serve only to heighten its dramatic irony—intellect without truth will bring total blindness.
The Sphinx, however, before the start of the play’s drama, had been overcome by the mysterious newcomer, Oedipus, who, for his answer to her famous riddle, has now ascended to kingship.
Her riddle:
“What goes on four legs in the morning, on two legs at noon, and on three legs in the evening?”
His answer:
“man” who in the “morning” of life as a baby crawls on four limbs;
at “noon” in adulthood walks on two legs;
and in the “evening” of life as an old man, walks with a cane, a third leg.
And what is the effect?
Victory at one level; Defeat at another
Oedipus’ boldly stands up to the Sphinx, answering her riddles with all the powers of his intellect.
And as a direct result, the Sphinx, in a rather unexpected way, simply “casts herself down from the cliff” in defeat. No epic struggle; no violent clash. In fact, there is no resistance at all. Oedipus speaks the word and she “leaps to her death.”
The question, then, is why?
The power of his conscious-level intellect overcomes the Devouring Mother. The control she exerted over the world of men by her unsolved riddles has finally been broken. But a much deadlier disease awaits, buried far below in the dark layers of the unconscious.
Some commentators have even asserted that the Sphinx’s act of casting herself down to her death is but a part of a greater scheme to draw Oedipus into darker deception. And in this way, her immediate vanishing from Thebes [we actually don’t know what happened to her] will be the very means of her greater victory.
What??
This is where the real battle begins
Though Oedipus has solved the puzzle in an abstract manner (“It is man”), he has failed to recognize himself in the story (“It is me.”).
And while he, through the light of his intellect, has overcome the enslaving power of the “Devouring Mother,” his victory and her defeat will become the means by which he will be blinded and then bound to a different mother—his own.
That is to say, her suicide embodies a failed initiation of the hero into manhood, the consequence of which will bring utter catastrophe, not merely to Oedipus, but also to the realm over which he now rules.
And this may be a reason why Sophocles makes such a point of the fanfare and hero worship of the populous.
“You freed us from the Sphinx.
You came to Thebes and cut us loose from the bloody tribute we had paid that harsh, brutal singer.
We taught you nothing, no skill, no extra knowledge, still you triumphed” (44-48).
“You are the mightiest head among us” (49).
“You are our life’s establisher” (57).
The first threat has been defeated…but through his intellectual victory Oedipus is brought to blindness as to the true menace to the city.
From the Sphinx to the Plague
But going yet further, with the Shpinx gone, a new threat now manifests as a “deadly pestilence,” whose effects are far, far worse.
For this new disease is destroying not only the city’s land and cattle, but making “pregnant women lose their children” and filling “black Hades” with “groans and howls” as the “fiery god” strikes down its inhabitants (lines 22-31).
That is to say, whereas the Sphinx was an individual threat (the conscious-level), the Plague embodies a much deeper danger (the three-headed Cerberus of the personal, generational and collective unconscious).
And cut off the head of the Hydra without dealing with the underlying issue and two more grow up in its place.
Yet how does Oedipus and the city’s people seek to deal with this new, all-encompassing threat…which is…we might say, is the dominating and devouring effects, not merely of a archetypal monstrous mother (however bad she is), but moreover, that “universal, hereditary sickness"—sin?
The blinding effects of superficial victory
Now at the height of his power and witnessing the bitter suffering of the city’s people, declares that he will next solve the mystery of the death of the previous king, Laius.
That is to say, by the powers of his intellect through his rising confidence, he will now effect a second, even greater salvation for the people.
Yet, again, not understanding his own history, what he presumes will bring salvation…will actually bring disaster both to himself and the city.
But how??
The root cause of the Plague
This is where the irony begins to take dramatic shape.
Oedipus now sends Creon (the brother of the Queen) to “Pythian Apollo’s shrine” to “learn” how he might “save the city” (lines 81-90).
Or Antigone,
Or the Trachiniae
The Angel of Light in Shakespeare’s dramas
The question for us
The question for us, however, 2500 years later is whether this is actually true?
Do our own self-deceptions lead us to be “wholly mistaken” (diamartanō) both in regard to ourselves and towards others (with that particular Greek word intensifying the later NT term for “sin” (hamartánō)?
Or more positively, does wisdom actually require an accurate understanding of ourselves which then enables us to better understand others?
From Socrates to Augustine a thousand years later…and Calvin in the next millennia
The counter to this focus on self-knowledge is the question:
Shouldn’t we actually seek to take the focus off of ourselves?
And the answer to both is:
“Yes.
And yes.”
The inescapable reality is that without precise knowledge of ourselves (our temperaments, our strengths, our weaknesses and their accompanying pathologies), our relationship with ourselves, with others and even with God Himself will continually be plagued by our own cognitive distortions and self-projections.
Augustine will go on to write nearly a thousand years after Xenophon and Plato,
“I have become a question to myself and that is my weakness” (Confessions 10.3)
As Augustine came to know, which was taken up by Calvin centuries later, this knowledge (or ignorance) of self will extend to God Himself:
“Our wisdom, in so far as it is deemed true and sound wisdom, consists in two parts:
The knowledge of God and the knowledge of ourselves” (Calvin, Institutes, I.1.1).
Meister Eckhart, a Dominican monk, wrote nine centuries later,
"None can know God who does not first know himself."
Then applying this understanding to the realities (and pathologies) of the Christian life, the mystic Teresa of Avila asserted that almost all problems in the spiritual life stem from a lack of self-knowledge (cf. The Way of Perfection, Chapters 4 & 10, Interior Castle, Chapter 1, etc.).
John Calvin, though from a different end of the theological spectrum yet in a very similar vein, states in the opening lines of his Institutes of the Christian Religion
“Our wisdom…consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves. But as these are connected together by many ties, it is not easy to determine which of the two precedes and give birth to the other."
The vast majority of us go to our graves without knowing who we are. We unconsciously live someone else's live, or at least someone else's expectations for us.
This does violence to ourselves, our relationship with God, and ultimately others. Dividing knowledge of God from knowledge of self can so easily keep us at a fixed level of spiritual/emotional development.
Blinding: From where?
The problem, however, is our blinding.
A blinding partially due to our own pathologies, those inherited from our families, those passed down through the cultural systems in which we have been raised and educated in addition to those religious systems through which we have been churched.
And over all this, the is the further reality that our own understanding (nóēma) has itself been blinded:
“whose understanding (nóēma) the god of this age has blinded, who do not believe,
lest the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine on them (II Cor 4:4).
Understanding restored: From the “left” to the “right” side
As this chart demonstrates, our accurate understanding of ourselves, others and God centers on our response to the eternal light of God’s fourth-dimensional Word.
When it shines on us, God’s Word first reveals to us the darkness of our minds and the vanity of so many of our pursuits, which, we come to realize…if are actually honest… are based on works, not grace; on achieving, not receiving; on performance, not faith; fueled by our little human methods and resources, not the extraordinary riches that flow forth from internalizing the Gospel of the Father’s Love.
As such, our “spiritual ministries” do not actually glorify Christ but ourselves; do not build up His body in love, but “bind heavy burdens, hard to bear” on others that break them down.
And so there is the paradox:
Our “good works” have quite terrible effects on those around us.
Roger’s teaching makes clear that when we become human doing not human beings, our works have the paradoxical effect of separating us from our true self, from others and, finally, from God.
For we are operating on the “left-side of the conscious chart” (see the image below).
And the evidence of this is that our relationships become progressively marked by criticism, judgment, impatience and unforgiveness…that arise out of a state of dishonesty…which fuels unrealistic expectations of ourselves and others and drives us into a performative perfectionism.
And though our “ministries” may thrive from this perfectionistic do-ism (of the “left” side), the flourishing will only be temporary.
We will progressively burnout and our relationships will suffer; because we have been cut off from the source of live and love and grace and forgiveness (i.e. the “right” side) that flow down to us moment by moment from the Throne of Grace.
Understanding who we actually are in Christ—our true identity, based not on achieving within the fallen third-dimensional metrics of This Age; but on receiving our fourth-dimensional inheritance from the Father—enables us to move from the “left” side of performance to the “right” side of being.
And a further synthesis of the “let and right” side is below with more detail.