PREFACE
Impression management, or image control, is a central aspect of interpersonal relations. Consciously or unconsciously, people attempt to control images in real or imagined social interactions. By doing so, they define the nature of the interaction, the identities they and others possess, and the meanings of their interpersonal actions. What people believe they “are” and the outcomes they receive from social life are both predicated in large part on impression management.
The importance of studying impression management has been ap- preciated by many social psychologists. However, a number of obstacles have impeded work. First, the area has been somewhat fragmented and compartmentalized. Symbolic interactionists—social psychologists who happen to be housed primarily in sociology departments—and experimental social psychologists—housed primarily in psychology departments—have each made major contributions. But surprisingly little cross-fertilization has occurred, each group remaining cool, unin- terested, and often ignorant of the work of the other. One goal of the present book is to provide an integrative approach to the area.
Second, a number of misconceptions exist about impression management. The term has numerous negative connotations that make it seem more appropriate for students of public relations than for students of social psychology. It brings to mind automatons programmed to smile appropriately and do everything in their power to please or even con an audience. Impression management can involve such behavior, but it also involves much more. In i its full sense impression management is integral to the study of the self, identity, and imterpersonal relations. One goal of this book is to demonstrate revelance of the topic to this wide array of phenomena.
Third, the impression-management approach frequently has been criticized for failing to develop specific, testable hypotheses. It is true that no definitive theory of impression management has yet been achieved. Yet the elements of such a theory are beginning to take form.
The approach is becoming increasingly refined and is hardly lacking in precise hypotheses fit for the experimental crucible. No claims are made that this book presents a finalized theory, but it is hoped that it provides an impetus for theory development and enough hypotheses to generate even more work in the area.
Finally, there has been no book from which students could gain a general exposure to ideas and research in the area. The present book is intended to serve this purpose. It does not attempt to be encyclopedic in its coverage; several volumes would be required for that. Nor does it attempt to provide a detailed, critical examination of the methodology and research done in the area.
Although such an examination would undoubtedly please some advanced readers, it would detract from the usefulness of the book for those who want only to gain a general appreciation of the area. Instead, my aim is to provide a single, reasonably concise volume that serves as an introduction to the study of impression management.
In places, the book seems to take a “how-to-do-it” turn, as when it discusses how to use nonverbal signals to increase interpersonal attraction. In general I tried to avoid that style, but I succumbed every now and then for at least three reasons. First, the data that exist in some areas are decidedly one-sided. In general there has been much less re- search on people's actions than on their reactions. There is research that shows how observers respond to a particular behavior used by an actor (for example, how observers respond when an actor uses one nonverbal action rather than another), but less research on the conditions that determine when an actor will use such behaviors. Thus, we often know what "works" on audiences but don’t necessarily know that actors will use these efficacious strategies under appropriate conditions. It is reasonable, though, to believe that people learn what works during the course of their social lives and use these strategies when called for; indeed, a variety of anecdotal data (often found in explicit ““how-to-do- it’’ books) suggests that people are sensitive to such audience reactions and take advantage of them. In presenting such material it is difficult to avoid statements such as “‘People who are attempting to increase their attractiveness to an audience should... .’’ Second, the question of how audiences react to particular strategies is interesting in its own right, and I didn’t feel like excluding such material merely because research on the opposite side of the coin has not yet been done. Finally, it is often easier to write in a “how-to-do-it” manner than to stay committed to a more neutral style. I tried to fight the urge, but I plead guilty to slipping on occasion. (...)
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THE SELF-CONCEPT AS A SELF-THEORY
Chapter 2 discussed the theme that people are naive scientists who build theories to help them understand their environment and function effectively within it. These theories extend to the self. Seymour Epstein (1973, p. 407) defined the self-concept as ‘‘a theory the individual has unwittingly constructed about himself as an experiencing, functioning individual ... part of a broader theory which he holds with respect to his entire range of significant experience.” It contains a cache of per- sonal facts of the types James discussed in describing one’s bodily ap- pearance, possessions, friends, and so forth. It contains self-constructs such as being friendly, intelligent, and independent. It contains hypotheses, or beliefs, that relate aspects of these facts and constructs to each other (for example, “I am independent and hence don’t conform to the opinions of others’’). One’s aspirations can also enter the picture to produce a self-concept that represents a blend of one’s actualities and potentialities (R. H. Turner, 1968).
Self-Constructs: Categorizing Ourselves
Self-constructs, also called self-schemata, are key aspects of the self-concept. Self-constructs are cognitive categories or generalizations about the self. People categorize themselves on construct dimensions such as conforming-independent, friendly-unfriendly, competent- incompetent, and dominant-submissive. Like other types of constructs, self-constructs are summary terms that subsume numerous facts. One can’t keep track of each and every personal behavior or self-relevant fact, but one can deal with a limited number of constructs that seem to integrate these facts into meaningful categories. If, for example, you are asked to describe your mental abilities, you undoubtedly would be unable to recall all the behaviors that might be relevant. But it is quite easy to list self-descriptive constructs that encompass such facts: ‘‘mod- erately creative,” ‘‘excellent memory,” ‘‘strong on verbal fluency,” “‘average on quantitative ability,” and so on. People find it easy to explain their own actions within such frameworks.
Self-constructs are not uniquely or simply determined by facts. Imagine a person having a conversation with a co-worker who privately disagrees with the colleague's opinion but who publicly expresses some agreement with it. Is this person conforming, submissive, tactful, friendly, ingratiating, self-doubting, or something else? On the basis of the behavior alone it is impossible to tell. If you knew a variety of other facts about the person and situation, they could narrow the possibilities. For example, knowing that the person has high self-esteem might eliminate the construct ‘‘self-doubting.”’ But even when many such facts are known, there are alternative constructs that could be applied to describe the same set of facts. There is never a situation where one set of facts can be explained by only one construct.
Instead of constructs’ being dictated by facts, constructs help us to interpret facts. Facts are given meanings by the constructs. In the example, the act of publicly agreeing while privately disagreeing would be given meaning as soon as it were interpreted as, say, “ingratiation,” and that meaning is quite different from the meaning associated with the construct ‘‘tactful." People have some latitude in the constructs they apply to interpret their behaviors, and they attempt to apply constructs that they find personally desirable in maximizing their outcomes from social interaction. Most people, for example, prefer the self-construct “tactful” over the self-construct “ingratiating” and will go to great lengths to convince themselves and others that the former rather than the latter “‘really" describes their behavior.
Self-constructs organize and guide the ways people process self-related information. Once a particular self-construct is well established—that is, formed, used continually, and supported by a lot of data—it becomes increasingly resistant to contradictory information.
We tend to notice behaviors that support that construct and interpret behaviors in terms of that construct rather than another. A person who normally categorizes herself as tactful and independent is more likely to interpret the behavior in the example (publicly agreeing while privately disagreeing) as demonstrating tact and not conformity. Research indicates that established cognitive categories do become increasingly immune to overthrow by single instances (see Carson, 1969; Mischel, 1973; Neisser, 1967, 1976).
Once established, self-constructs serve as selective devices that “determine whether information is attended to, how it is structured, how much importance is attached to it, and what happens to it subsequently” (Markus, 1977, p. 64). Self-constructs give meanings to our worlds. To demonstrate the importance of self-constructs, Hazel Markus (1977) classified students into those who had well articulated self-constructs on an important dimension (independence versus dependence) and those who did not. Those with well articulated self- constructs were able to process construct-related information faster, made related judgments and decisions about themselves more easily, were better able to recall related behaviors, were more self-confident in predicting their own future relevant actions, and were more resistant to information that contradicted these self-constructs. Markus concluded that “only when a self-description derives from a well-articulated generalization about the self can it be expected to converge and form a consistent pattern with the individual's other judgments, decisions, and actions” (p. 65). Self-constructs thus affect actions by affecting how people attend to, interpret, and respond to situations (Markus, 1977; Rogers, Kuiper, & Kirker, 1977; Rogers, Rogers, & Kuiper, 1979; R. (G:
Turner, 1978). In this sense, people who know themselves or at least think they do—that is, have well-articulated self-constructs—can more easily process information and make decisions about what is best for them. They believe they know what they are and therefore what they should and can do in various situations.
Expectations: Deciding What to Do
Self-constructs affect our expectations of what we should do and can do in various situations. Suppose you viewed yourself as independent, and your roommate asked you to sign a petition supporting an issue you didn’t really support. What should you do? The answer is clear: to be independent, you should resist your roommate's pressure and refuse to sign. If you didn’t view yourself as independent, your answer might be quite different. Or suppose you view yourself as introverted, poor at social conversation, physically unappealing, and lacking in sex appeal. What do you think your chances are of getting the gregarious and attractive classmate you admire to go out on a date and return your affection? You would probably expect failure. If you held the opposite set of self-constructs, you would anticipate greater success. Thus, self-constructs can affect people’s expectations about what they should do and how effective they will be in various situations.
Albert Bandura (1977b) discussed self-efficacy expectations, which are beliefs “that one can successfully execute the behavior required to produce” particular outcomes (p. 193). As Bandura indicates, self-efficacy expectations determine whether a person will begin to cope with a potentially unpleasant situation and will work to accomplish some goal, how much effort the person will expend to reach the goal, and how long the person will continue to work in the face of frustrations and aversions. People who believe they can effectively accomplish some goal will begin sooner, work harder, and continue longer than those who do not. Our expectations, which are influenced by our self-constructs, thus have great impact on our behaviors. If you expect that nothing you can do will get the attractive classmate to agree to a date, why even ask? You will just be rejected. If you expect that your agreeable and sophisticated manner will surely get him or her to say “yes,” don’t hesitate for a moment.
Functions of the Self-Concept
Epstein (1973, p. 407) argues that the self-concept has three major functions for a person. It should (a) ‘‘optimize the pleasure/pain balance of the individual over the course of a lifetime,” (b) ‘‘organize the data of experience in a manner that can be coped with effectively,’ and (c) facilitate “‘the maintenance of self-esteem.” The first two functions are familiar ones, involving hedonism and cognitive organization.
People who “‘know themselves’’—that is, can accurately gauge their own capabilities and potential accomplishments—can make decisions that increase their outcomes from life. The third function, self-esteem maximization, has been assumed by most personality theorists to be a basic human motive (see Hall & Lindzey, 1978). Self-esteem is usually defined as an overall self-evaluation or judgment of personal worth (Wells & Marwell, 1976). People desire to think well of themselves, their attributes, and their actions. Some of the ways people go about doing so will be explored in the next chapter.
The Scientific Status of the Self-Concept
When the self-concept is seen as a self-theory, scientific objections to its status lose their force. The self-concept ‘‘can no longer be dismissed as unscientific, or as a reincarnation of the soul, unless one is also willing to dismiss theory, in general, as unscientific” (Epstein, 1973, p. 415).
Some people might argue that it is not necessary to talk of the self-concept. One could simply examine each of a person’s self-relevant facts, constructs, and beliefs in isolation. Yet, as all scientists know, no fact, construct, or hypothesis (belief) exists in isolation. Facts are given meaning by constructs, constructs are given meaning through their place in a theory, and no hypothesis can be tested in total isolation from the rest of the elements of a theory (see Hempel, 1966; Nagel, 1961).
People understand themselves and their place in the world through the integrated elements of their self-concepts and use the self-concept to facilitate functioning in social life.
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SOCIAL EXPERIENCE
Some people are offended by the suggestion that the self-concept arises in social interaction and is affected by what others think. They willingly admit that other people probably have had their self-concepts formed and affected this way, but—as for themselves—well, they are more independent than that. Such resistance is understandable. The self, the core of one’s being, is sometimes viewed as the last vestige of personal independence in a world that has become oriented toward others. Given this skepticism, it is worth examining some of the evidence that supports the basic hypotheses of symbolic interactionism.
Early Social Interaction
According to symbolic interactionism, the self-concept arises from social experience. It follows that without social interaction any self-concept that exists will be extremely crude and one’s interpersonal relations will be hindered. The most direct way of testing such hypotheses would be to randomly assign newborn infants to either an enriched social interaction experience or a period of social deprivation. For obvious ethical reasons, one cannot conduct such a study with humans—I hope no one would want to. But such studies have been conducted with nonhumans.
Gordon Gallup (1977) reasoned that the self-concept rests on the fundamental ability to recognize and code oneself as a distinct personal entity. If an organism cannot recognize itself, it is difficult to argue that it can have a sense of self; if it does show self-recognition, the basis for a rudimentary self-concept would be present. Gallup investigated self-recognition in chimpanzees and other great apes. He concluded that the great apes do possess a rudimentary self-concept and that it is dramatically affected by social experience. In an initial study, he individually exposed preadolescent chimps to a full-length mirror to see how they would react. For the first two or three days, the chimps reacted to their mirror image as if it were another chimp, bobbing up and down, vocalizing at the reflection, and occasionally making threatening gestures. Later, the chimps began to show signs of self-recognition. They used the mirror to groom parts of their bodies that were outside their normal sight, entertained themselves by blowing bubbles and making faces, and even picked food from their teeth.
Despite these observations, skeptics might have been unconvinced of the chimps’ ability for self-recognition. So Gallup anesthetized each of the chimps and painted an odorless, nonirritating bright red dye on parts of their faces that they could not see without a mirror. Because of the anesthesia and the properties of the dye, the chimps would not be able to know that it had been applied unless they saw it in the mirror and knew that the image in the mirror was theirs. After awakening, the chimps were placed in their individual cages, without mirrors, and the researchers counted the number of times they spontaneously touched the dye-marked spots. The mirror was then reintroduced. It was found that, when the chimps could see themselves in the mirror, they touched the spots 25 times more frequently than when the mirror was absent.
The chimps spent more time looking into the mirror than they had before being marked with the red dye, and they attempted to smell and examine their fingers after touching the spots. This is convincing evidence for self-recognition in nonhumans. If self-concept development is dependent on social experience, as symbolic interactionists suppose, then chimps reared in isolation without the possibility of social interaction should have difficulty at the mirror recognition task. Gallup (Gallup, McClure, Hill, & Bundy, 1971) raised some chimps in isolation and compared their responses to chimps raised with companions. While the normal chimps seemed to recognize themselves in the mirror, the socially deprived chimps did not.
In another study (Hill, Bundy, Gallup, & McClure, 1970) two isolation-reared chimps who showed no signs of self-recognition were given three months of social experience by being housed in the same cage. In contrast to a chimp that continued in isolation, who remained unable to identify the reflection, the chimps given social experience showed signs of self-recognition ability. At least some of the effects of the social isolation were reversible. This is persuasive evidence of the necessity for social experience in the development of the self-concept.
With the importance of social interaction in mind, Gallup (1977) has speculated about what might happen if an organism capable of self-concept development were reared with members of another species, from whom the animal might learn unusual patterns of behavior and self-identification. Presumably, the animal might come to misidentify itself and see itself as a member of that other species. The data are certainly consistent with this possibility, although conclusive evidence has yet to be amassed. One chimp raised with humans and taught sign language referred to other chimps whom she had seen for the first time as “black bugs.” Vicki, another chimp raised in a home with humans, was taught to sort pictures into two piles—human and nonhuman. One day while Vicki was working on this task, her own picture was slipped in with the other photos. When she came to it, Vicki placed it in the pile with the humans!
The evidence from studies of the great apes clearly indicates the importance of social experience in the development of self-recognition ability (see also Meddin, 1979). The rudimentary self-concepts possessed by the great apes seem to require social interaction to develop fully. These results are consistent with correlational studies of humans that indicate that early social experience is a key to the later development of effective interaction patterns (see Mussen, Conger, & Kagan, 1969).
Similar experimental studies with nonhuman species indicate that both lack of mother contact and peer isolation produce later behavioral abnormalities (Harlow & Harlow, 1966; Harlow, Harlow, & Suomi, 1971). Social experience is of paramount importance in the development of a normal personality.
Reflected Appraisals
A major assumption of the symbolic-interactionist approach is that people’s self-concepts develop as they see themselves reflected in the actions of significant others. Even after the self-concept has formed, others’ self-directed actions still should influence what people think of themselves, at least under certain conditions. As Cooley (1902/1922) put it:
As we see our face, figure, and dress in the glass [mirror], and are in- terested in them because they are ours, and pleased or otherwise with them according as they do or do not answer to what we should like them to be; so in imagination we see in another’s mind some thought of our ap- pearance, manners, aims, deeds, character, friends, and so on, and are variously affected by it [p. 184].
A person’s perceptions of the impressions others form about him or her are termed reflected appraisals. Reflected appraisals can be based on explicit or implicit information. For example, Grandpa might bring over one of his friends to see his 3-year-old grandson and remark in the child’s presence “Look at that build—husky already. And you should see his grip. That boy’s gonna make a fine fullback some day; nobody will be able to tackle him.” Hearing the explicit evaluation, the child begins to form self- constructs such as strong and athletic. Implicit information can also be transformed into reflected appraisals. Tacit cues for reflected appraisals can derive from the attentions of others (Does Mother care about me, or does she seem to ignore me?); the tones of others’ voices (Is Mother calm or agitated when I’m around?); and the things they don’t say (Why doesn’t Mother ever say I’m pretty?).
Reflected appraisals do not always correspond perfectly with the actual evaluation another person attempts to convey. A person might misinterpret what another says, particularly if the comment is ambiguous to begin with, and believe that the self-evaluation was more or less favorable than the source intended (see Jacobs, Berscheid, & Walster, 1971). Moreover, explicit and implicit information can sometimes conflict, making it difficult to obtain a clear reflected appraisal. A mother might tell her daughter that she is darling and loved, while the child notices that her mother speaks in an affectionless tone, doesn’t look her in the eye, and never hugs her. Confusion can result, as the child has difficulty determining how her mother really feels. Messages may even flatly contradict each other, as when a mother asks her daughter to give her a hug, while her tone of voice clearly tells the daughter to stay away. Such contradictory messages can lead to disorganized behavior patterns later in life of the type exhibited by schizophrenics (Bateson, Jackson, Haley, & Weakland, 1956).
One's parents typically provide the first significant source of personal evaluation through reflected appraisals. One dramatic example of how the reflected appraisals of parents can affect one’s self-concept is the story of the boyhood of John Stuart Mill (1806-1873), the British philosopher who made important contributions to psychology, sociology, and economics. James Mill, John’s father, was a disciplinarian who structured the boy’s education and development strictly. John learned Greek by the age of 3; by 7 he had read Plato, Herodotus, and Xenophon and had begun the study of Latin. By 12 he had finished Virgil, Ovid, Aristotle, Socrates, and Aristophanes; was expert in geometry, algebra, and calculus; had written a Roman history and a history of Holland; and had edited his father’s history of India (Heilbroner, 1967). His father’s demands were constant. There were no vacations, no play with peers, no ‘‘pleasure’’ reading. James kept up a constant barrage of tests for his son. Even while riding, the boy was forced to memorize signs and aspects of the countryside, on which his father would quiz him later to improve his memory. Through all this, John had no idea that his upbringing was unusual or that he was particularly gifted; his self-evaluations were provided by his father, who treated his ac- complishments as unremarkable (Tedeschi & Lindskold, 1976). Only later, when he compared himself with others, did he come to recognize his uniqueness.
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ROLES: THE PARTS WE PLAY
People come to define themselves through social interaction, seeing themselves in part through the eyes of significant others. One of the factors that affect how other people see us and act toward us is the roles we occupy. Some, like the male or female role, we are born into; others are the result of our personal efforts and abilities or lack of them— doctor, lawyer, psychologist. In either case, roles exist apart from the particular individuals who occupy them and can act as social scripts that dictate how we should act.
The word role derives from the Latin word rotula, the sheet of parchment wrapped around a wooden roller that contained the part that an actor recited on stage. In the theater, roles constrain actors’ behavior, at least to some degree. Actors must say certain lines at certain times, engage in specific behaviors at specific moments, work with particular props, coordinate their actions with those of other actors, and, in general, convey to the audience the character of the person they are playing. Within these constraints, of course, actors are free to display their own unique talents, fleshing out the character to give spontaneity and life to the author’s words. They might ad-lib on occasion, throwing in or changing lines and dramatizing gestures to bring the character home and touch a responsive chord in the audience. Typically, the better the actor, the better his or her ability to improvise in a way that meets with the audience’s approval. But the role still gives direction and purpose to the actor’s behaviors, guiding them along a predetermined course.
Role Theory
Role theorists have taken this model and applied it to everyday social behavior. Role theory (see Biddle & Thomas, 1966; Merton, 1957; Sarbin & Allen, 1968; E. J. Thomas, 1968) is a prominent area of study that has been greatly influenced by symbolic interactionism and the dramaturgical approach’ Just as actors’ behaviors are guided by their roles, people’s social behaviors are shaped by the roles they occupy. A role is usually defined in terms of the part an individual plays within a group. Possible roles are numerous: doctor, lawyer, banker, politician, parent, teacher, son, daughter, construction worker, female, male.
Each role carries with it certain perceived and expected behaviors that role occupants enact in social situations. The perceived attributes are easily demonstrated by the stereotypes most people associate with certain roles. Everyone can characterize what a ‘‘traditional woman,” or “homemaker,” is supposed to be like. She should be dedicated to her family, be oriented toward the home rather than a professional career, and be submissive, affectionate, emotional, and skilled at cooking, cleaning, sewing, and so on. To facilitate the adoption of this role, young girls were and often still are cuddled and encouraged to express emotion, given doll sets so that they could gain the “proper” perspective through play, taught how to cook and sew, discouraged from expressing dominant or aggressive behaviors, and so on. Young boys often receive quite different training to encourage behavior patterns that are relevant to the "male" role in society. The expected behaviors that roles carry with them, then, are based on social agreement about what the occupants of certain roles should be like; society encourages and rewards proper role enactment and discourages out-of-role behaviors. People’s cognitive scripts for social interactions are based in part on shared beliefs about such role requirements.
The stereotypical attributes associated with particular roles often emerge because of their usefulness to society. For example, bankers would quickly go out of business if they were perceived as unstable, untrustworthy, risk oriented, and poor at mathematics. Hence, stereotypes of bankers include such attributes as conservative, cautious, stable, precise, and good with figures. Society and bankers both benefit if a person with these characteristics takes such a job, or if the person acquires these characteristics quickly after.
Everyone has many roles. A person might be a wife, mother, daughter, teacher, professor, scientist, athlete, and many other things. On occasion the demands of roles may conflict, as in the case of a professor who has her own husband enrolled in a course or the college student who returns home for the holidays to find that his newly acquired independence is not appreciated by his parents. People often shift from one role to another within a brief time. A university faculty member might adopt a “‘professor’’ role while at work, maintaining an intellectual aura and seeming emotionally aloof. After work, the professor might shift into a “parent role,” shed the dignity that was so carefully cultivated during the day, and gleefully crawl around on all fours with the children. Occasionally people have difficulty shifting out of roles at appropriate times, as when a lawyer greets his or her spouse after work in the tone of voice usually reserved for the jury.
Roles and the Self-Concept
The cumulative impact of one’s roles can influence the self-concept and behavior. People typically come to view themselves in terms of the attributes and behavior patterns dictated by their roles (see Kuhn, 1960; Sarbin & Allen, 1968). The roles become internalized as part of the self-concept, providing people with role-related self-constructs and expectations: ‘A banker should be categorized as conservative and stable.” I should behave in a certain way, and others should treat me in a certain way.” Through role enactment, people can “become” the roles they play. In a statement quite reminiscent of William James’ discussion of habits (see Chapter 2), Waller (1932) noted:
That stiff and formal manner in which the young teacher compresses himself every morning when he puts on his collar becomes ... a plaster cast which at length he cannot loosen. ... The didactic manner, the authoritative manner, the flat, assured tones of voice that go with them, are bred in the teacher by his dealings in the classroom... and these traits are carried over by the teacher into his interpersonal relations [pp. 381-382].
The internalization of a role seems to be greatest when people become ‘‘comfortable” in it, when they come to value the benefits that the role supplies and to believe that they can fulfill the role- expectations. An army draftee might initially hate the army and do everything he can to avoid being type-cast as a military man. Of course, his sergeant doesn’t take kindly to disobedience or a non-military manner, so he forces the recruit to ‘“shape up.’”’ Soon, the young man begins to reap some rewards from his new role. Not only does he escape punishment, but he gets passes to leave the base and finds that the young women in town just adore men in uniform. He then begins to consider all the benefits of army life—free room and board, comrade-ship, educational opportunities, and even the thought that he is serving his country. He also finds that it is not so hard to fit the army role; he scores well on marksmanship tests and learns new tasks easily. He soon becomes gung ho military.
Of course, if people don’t come to value the benefits of the role, or they believe that they can’t fulfill its requirements, problems develop. The person is not likely to internalize the role but in many cases tries to escape from its constraints, by leaving the job, for example. It has been found that, when self characteristics are incongruent with the requirements of the role, “role enactment will be poor in terms of appropriateness, effectiveness, and convincingness”’ (Allen, 1968, p. 205). Such failure further reinforces the belief that one can’t play that role. If one’s self-constructs and self-efficacy expectations contradict role requirements, escape from the role rather than internalization becomes more likely (see Sarbin & Allen, 1968; E. J. Thomas, 1968).
In sum, roles provide scripts of how we are expected to behave, and these scripts influence our behaviors. Roles thus partially define the identities we establish in social interactions and can influence our self-concepts. In turn, our self-concepts can affect the quality of role enactment and thus affect the degree to which we internalize any aspects of roles that might initially be discrepant with our self-concepts.
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