Naming Your Inner Critic
How can we subdue our Algernons?
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I mentioned in my last post that I had named my inner critic Algernon. Naming him was a suggestion from the writer Julia Cameron. It got me thinking. Can we subdue our inner critic? What is the science behind it? Hopefully, this post is humorous, but the serious point does come across. Our inner critics can be our worst enemies and need sorting out.
Firstly, when we talk about our inner critic, what does it mean. The concept links to:
the Freudian superego as inhibiting censor,[2] or the negative Jungian animus,[3] the inner critic is usually experienced as an inner voice attacking a person, saying that they are bad, wrong, inadequate, worthless, guilty, and so on. The inner critic often produces feelings of shame, deficiency, low self-esteem, and depression. It may also cause self-doubt and undermine self-confidence. It is common for people to have a harsh inner critic that is debilitating.
Okay, I found the rabbit reading this on Wikipedia. I have left the links to Freudian Superego and Jungian animus for completeness, but for me, this would be a much broader debate around the origins of inner critics, etc. Not for today. The rabbit warren, badger's set and fox's den are still damp from Storm Babet.
Psychology Today published an article 3 Ways to Outsmart Your Inner Critic. Watch out, Algernon, here I come. The first is to name it. No, I don't know why I called my inner critic Algernon or why he is male. I think the name Algernon sounded like a Victorian theatre critic. According to Wikipedia:
Algernon is a masculine name derived from the Norman-French sobriquet Aux Gernons, meaning "with moustaches".
The second way to outsmart your inner critic is to understand her/him/it. According to psychologist and meditation teacher Dr Tara Brach, our inner critic is linked to fear. According to Dr Brach, we perceive ourselves as the problem which makes us feel threatened: the critic launches us into fight mode, and rather than fighting off an intruder, we fight ourselves. What a waste of energy and life to fight yourself. It doesn't make much sense, but neither does a lot of what our minds do. She goes on to say how we need to evaluate ourselves and our lives honestly and see our inner critic as an expression of fear rather than the voice of reason. We need to develop self-compassion and a constructive criticism mindset. For me, this would be, poor you, that's awful. I wouldn't bother if I were you. Clear off, Algernon. My inner voice should be saying this painting has some excellent aspects. The perspective may be slightly squiffy, but you could change that line and that colour to improve the overall viewpoint. Overall, it is a much better painting than the last one.
The third way to outsmart your inner critic is to be bigger than your inner critic. The critic can only genuinely thrive if we keep believing what it says. Our inner critic thrives when we prioritise things such as how we look, how popular we are or how we should always be better than others. The last point is mine, not from the article. As I child I was always compared with others how they looked, how they excelled at school and how I wasn't good enough to achieve. What I am describing was extreme but is ground into my psyche. Someone recently told me how they thought their painting wasn't good enough. The reason was an off-the-cuff comment made by someone they cared for about chocolate boxes. The statement was just an observation but one taken to heart. Hopefully, they have dismissed the chocolate box and accepted other's views of their paintings.
Returning from the rabbit hole to continue how we can make ourselves more significant than our Algernons. The article describes a client who sets a 'deeply meaningful' goal and is 'bigger' than her inner critic. Her goal was a more peaceful mind. Looking closely, she could see that the wolf/inner critic destroyed her sense of peace. It made her feel constricted, scared, and angry. When her critic started talking, she would name it and then remember that her goal was not to be perfect but to develop a more peaceful and calm way of being. Her shift in priorities helped her outsmart her critic and live a much fuller life.
Sheryl Garret's article How to Work with Your Inner Critic on the Creative Life website describes her inner critic beautifully. I have copied the section with no apologies:
I have a bully living inside my head
She has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. In my late teens, she adopted the exasperated voice of my sixth-form English teacher, only sharper and meaner. I haven't seen that teacher in 40 years. But this exaggerated version of her is still with me, giving a running commentary on my life.
"You silly cow!" she'll scold. "Why would anyone be interested in your ideas? Who do you think you are? Why do you think that would work for you? That's been done already. Can't you think of anything original?
"You're too fat/ugly/old to try that. People will laugh. They'll make fun of you. You're too clever by half. And not as clever as you think you are. You'll mess that up. Don't speak up – you'll stammer. Stay safe. Stay small."
I think I was well into my twenties before I even noticed this voice, intruding on my thoughts, hectoring me, nagging me – and restricting me. Even then, it was a good while before I realised I didn't always have to listen to it.
Sheryl quite rightly distinguishes between our inner critics and our inner voices. We should not always disregard the latter. They have a place in our lives, but we do need to distinguish between those constructive voices and the Things/Algernons. How do we differentiate between them? We should listen if the voice is peaceful, although maybe assertive, and make constructive suggestions. For example, a slight niggling feeling followed by the voice saying, "That line should moved, that colour changed", then listen. If it hits you full throttle in the stomach, followed by "tear it up; that painting is absolute rubbish, like you, in the bin with it". Mine/your response should be a thump in Algernon's/Thing's stomach to push it off our shoulders into the bin. Unfortunately, it will likely crawl back, but hopefully, it will be a bit battered and quieter.
Sheryl describes our inner critic as cruel & devious, often wrapped up in the voice of reason who only sees things in black and white. It repeats itself endlessly. I would say that sums Algernon up for me. Sheryl also suggests using meditation to push it out and writing your inner critic a letter. Another suggestion of Sheryl's I will try is giving Algernon a voice. Once again, I cannot improve on her description of the voices she gave Gertrude, her inner critic:
Over the years, I've given Gertrude the voice of Marge Simpson, Kenneth Williams and Alan Carr. Lately, I've been experimenting with the voice of Frankie Boyle (which tends to get mixed up in my head with Sean Connery).
The stream of anxiety and malice doesn't work so well when it's in the voice of a cartoon, a Carry on Film, or an acerbic comedian mixed with James Bond.
I will ponder down the rabbit warren about Algernon's voice.
There are many articles on dealing with our inner critic, including this one in The Washington Post: How to Make Friends with Your Inner Critic? You won't be surprised to learn that the consensus is to deal with your inner critic but not the inner voices that provide constructive criticism.
Therapist Abby Rawlinson describes seven types of inner critic:
The Perfectionist
The Task Master
The Conformist
The Controller
The Underminer
The Guilt Tripper
The Destroyer.
The link gives you slightly more detailed descriptions of each type. Abby's summary rang true to me:
Unfortunately, there's no switch to turn off negative thoughts completely, but sometimes, the key to taking back control is to acknowledge the inner critic's presence. Just being mindful of the inner critic's motivation can be a powerful way to stop negative thoughts from turning into more destructive behaviours.
What have I learnt today:
If I am honest, I have no idea what Algernon's motivations are, but I am trying to control him and push him off his perch on my shoulder more often.
I may have lost the plot. Too much rambling in damp rabbit 🐇 warrens
The loud inner critic is not a good thing and should be knocked off his/her/its perch.
We all need to learn to be compassionate with ourselves
Our inner critics, unfortunately, grow older with us but are easier to shut up.
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All good sensible advice, Jo, but I would like to add another thing to do that really worked for me. Try to figure out who might have installed the critic. I remember at some point, I think I was in high school, when I noticed that the voice I heard that said i was lazy, and didn't work hard enough was my father's. Now this really puzzled me because, 1) he was a kind gentle person, and 2) if anyone had a reason to be irritated with me when I failed to finish a chore because I went off to read or day dream it should have been my mother, but it wasn't her voice. 3) the only time I heard that tone of voice in real life from my father was when he was trying to teach me how do do something (play tennis, outline before writing a paper.) Since the rest of the messages I got from both parents were pretty positive, I generally tried to ignore the voice, and avoided having him teach me anything. Then, at some point when I was more grown, he shared that his older brother ( who was an alcoholic from an early age) had constantly berated him for being lazy and not working hard enough in swimming and other sports. Viola! It all made sense. It was my father's inner critic, installed by his older brother, that came out in those messages to me. Understanding this made it so much easier to ignore. Although I suspect that one of the reasons I am busy writing in my 70s (not feeling I have to do it perfectly, but just that I should be actively pursuing what I enjoy doing) is a residual effect of that voice! (smile.)
I’m reading Tara Mohr’s ‘Playing Big’ at the moment, and she also recommends naming and creating a persona for your inner critic. I’m working on mine. I think she’s a 40-something tall, Australian woman but I haven’t got a name for her yet.