Imagine you’re having coffee with a friend when they begin telling you how terrible they feel about themselves. How would you respond?
You’d probably listen, reassure them, and remind them of their good qualities. Yet if that friend spoke to us with equal kindness, we might dismiss their reassurance as being less accurate than our own judgement.
When we’re self-critical, we’re often advised to ask what we would say to a friend, then offer ourselves the same response. In my book, The Tyranny of Speed (2025), I approached the question from a slightly different direction.
Instead of asking what you would say, the exercise begins with what you would never say. We know which words would be cruel, humiliating, or unfair – especially when said to someone we love. Writing them down can make our inner critic easier to recognise, and show how much hostility we can direct towards ourselves while calling it responsibility or discipline.
For readers who’d like to try it, the exercise goes like this:
Imagine a good friend expresses how poorly they think of themselves. Write four or five things you wouldn’t say to your friend who seems to be in pain. (For example, “You’re right, you are useless”.) Then write down how you would feel if you actually said those things to your friend. Write two or three lines. Think about how you would feel if you found yourself saying these things to a close friend who’s struggling.
Now, revisiting Point 1, write down four or five things you would say to your friend and how you’d treat them; and write how you feel about it. Then take a moment to notice the differences in how you felt between telling your friend something that would likely hurt them compared with saying something that felt supportive and encouraging.
Finally, write down how you feel when self-judging thoughts come to mind. Is it the same feeling as when you were critical of your friend, or does something else arise?
What might happen if you let those self-critical thoughts come and go and, instead of getting caught up in them, treated yourself with the same kindness you’d offer your friend?
When people try this, there are often two common reactions. First, even the idea of being kind to ourselves can feel strange. Second, being kind to others is fine – but different rules apply to us.
In fact, being kind to others is seen as a duty. People are deserving of our understanding, our compassion and forgiveness because they’re not perfect and so of course they make mistakes. But when it comes to applying that same logic to ourselves, all reason seems to go out the window and we simply label ourselves as being less deserving than others.
There are many reasons why we might come to see ourselves as less deserving of kindness. Early experiences, family expectations, and cultural values can all shape the standards we apply to ourselves.
One interesting explanation was offered by the Scottish psychoanalyst Ronald Fairbairn. He suggested that, when children depend on adults who are rejecting, unpredictable, or frightening, it can feel safer to assume that they themselves are the problem. Believing “I’m bad” leaves open the possibility that they can become better, behave differently, or somehow earn the love and care they need.
For children, it’s very difficult to recognise and accept that parents and authority figures are fallible human beings who can make mistakes, get things wrong, and behave badly.
Fairbairn called this the “moral defence”. The circumstances might change as we grow older, but the habit of turning blame inwards remains strong.
Self-criticism can then feel protective: Correct yourself before someone else does, and maybe you can avoid rejection this time. From that perspective, self-kindness can feel less like comfort and more like letting your guard down. It’s easier, then, to extend our kindness to others, because we don’t experience their sense of not being good enough, or being unlovable – we simply see someone who’s trying their best and could use some support.
This is the idea behind the exercise – to give us a brief chance to step outside the old courtroom in our heads and look at ourselves as another person might: not as a case to be judged, but as someone who’s feeling up against it.
The aim isn’t to excuse everything we do, or to stop taking responsibility. It’s to recognise that punishment isn’t the only possible response to imperfection, which can often be much less helpful than we imagine.
Being kind to ourselves doesn’t mean lowering our standards. We can still acknowledge what went wrong and try to put it right, but without beating ourselves up or treating everything the inner critic says as infallible.
Sandy Clarke has long held an interest in emotions, mental health, mindfulness and meditation. He believes the more we understand ourselves and each other, the better societies we can create. If you have any questions or comments, e-mail lifestyle@thestar.com.my. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.
