Ego Development and the Future of Humanity
In Part 1, “Other Me,” we started with a small, disorienting idea: the person across from you is not as distant from you as your mind would prefer to believe.
If you’ve applied this notion since reading it – even casually – you may have noticed a subtle effect. When we soften our views on someone else, something inside us often shifts as well. Our internal tone changes as the story we’re telling ourselves about the moment begins to loosen, becoming a little less rigid, as we become a little less certain of the finality of our conclusion.
For the purposes of this series, I’m using “ego” in the contemporary psychological sense – not the Freudian architecture of id, ego, and superego, and not the everyday shorthand for arrogance (“Look at the ego on that guy!”) – but as the system that maintains one’s sense of identity and inner continuity. It’s the part of the human operating system that quietly answers a background question, over and over again, as we move through your days: Who am I, and how do I keep recognizing myself in a world that keeps shifting around me?
Psychologist Robert Kegan has described this as the way human beings “make meaning” – the internal structure that shapes what we notice, what we question, and what we tend to take for granted. In that sense, ego development begins to feel less like a thing we possess and more like a kind of psychological atmosphere we live within.
My Bad Teenage Habit
When I was a teenager, I had a habit that drove my dad (and likely others) up a wall. My guess is that other ENTPs went through this phase too….
I liked to say things that were a little provocative, a little sarcastic – whatever felt clever in the moment. If the room laughed, I felt like I had landed exactly where I wanted to be. If it didn’t – if someone looked confused, hurt, or unimpressed – I had a line ready:
“Relax, I’m just joking.”
One day, after watching this play out for what must have been the thousandth time, my dad stopped me and said something that has stayed with me ever since:
“Bob, I can’t tell when you’re joking anymore.
And I don’t think you can either.
You can’t decide after the fact.
Say what you mean, or don’t – but don’t use humor as a shield.”
I wanted to be seen as the quick one, the funny one, the socially sharp cynic who didn’t misfire. Humor wasn’t just something I enjoyed – it had become part of how I defined myself and how I hoped to be experienced by others.
Looking back, I can see that moment less as a mistake and more as an early glimpse of how carefully our egos tend to guard the versions of ourselves we carry into the world.
What We Mean by Ego
When people talk about ego, the image that often comes to mind is someone puffed up or self-absorbed; someone overly impressed with themselves.
In practice, you can think of it as the system that holds together your personal narrative. It carries your sense of:
what you stand for
what you’re good at
what you avoid
what you expect from others
what feels acceptable or unacceptable
what you believe you fundamentally deserve
Psychologist Dan McAdams has described identity itself as a kind of life story – a narrative we’re constantly editing, revising, and quietly maintaining as we move through the world.
The Story the Ego Is Always Protecting
Even if you never consciously think about it, most of us walk around with a running, internal description of ourselves.
You can hear it in familiar phrases:
“I’m the kind of person who follows through.”
“I try to be fair.”
“I don’t like conflict.”
“I tend to overthink things.”
A small piece of feedback can linger longer than expected. A disagreement can take on an emotional weight that feels disproportionate to the topic at hand. Being misunderstood can quietly stay with you through the rest of the day.
Carl Rogers wrote about this in terms of the “self-concept” – the internal picture we carry of who we believe ourselves to be. When that picture feels challenged, the system that protects it tends to respond, sometimes quickly, sometimes subtly, often before we’ve had time to reflect on what’s actually being said.
And the ego doesn’t only do this work internally. It does it socially.
Our Public Self (and Why Humor Became My Shield)
All of us carry a social identity, whether we think about it or not.
Over time, we develop a sense of how we are “known” in rooms:
the reliable one
the thoughtful one
the creative one
the leader
the easygoing one
the sharp one
Once that identity begins to take shape, we start to curate it, often without realizing.
This is where my teenage humor trick fits in. Being “the funny one” wasn’t just something I did – it was something I had come to rely on as part of who I was. When a joke didn’t land, it wasn’t only an awkward moment. It felt like a small fracture in the version of myself I was presenting to the world.
Most of us do something similar.
We choose what to reveal and what to keep in the background. We learn how to frame our successes so they don’t sound like bragging. We practice how to accept compliments without feeling exposed. We develop ways of deflecting criticism that let us keep our footing, even when something inside us has been touched.
All of this is the ego acting as a kind of quiet public-relations manager, trying to keep a recognizable, consistent version of us alive in the minds of other people.
Which leads to a deeper layer of what the ego is really protecting.
Not all values are equal in the ranking system that shapes how we decide who we are.
That’s where temperament enters the picture.
Temperament and the Values Closest to the Core
In our “Why Behind the Why” work, we explore the idea that beneath behavior and preferences sit deeper, often unspoken core values – the things that make people feel competent, safe, meaningful, or morally intact in the world.
Building on the temperament work of David Keirsey, we’ve found that these value systems tend to cluster in recognizable ways. Temperament enters the picture as one of the lenses through which a person’s life story and sense of self gradually take shape.
When feedback touches those values, it rarely feels neutral. It often carries a sense of personal weight, even when the topic on the surface seems small.
You can often see it play out like this:
SJ — The Traditionalists
For many SJs, being dependable and trustworthy sits close to the core. There’s a deep identification with being someone others can rely on. When something implies carelessness, forgetfulness, or failure to follow through, the moment can register as more than a practical issue. It touches a sense of being a good, responsible member of the community.
SP — The Experiencers
For many SPs, adaptability and freedom sit near the center. Being able to respond to life in real time, to stay unboxed and capable in the moment, often feels like an expression of who they fundamentally are. Heavy structure and rigid rules can feel less like organization and more like a narrowing of that self-expression.
NT — The Conceptualizers
For many NTs, competence and clarity of thinking are tightly woven into identity. Seeing patterns, understanding systems, and thinking things through isn’t only a skill set – it’s part of how they define their own worth. Suggestions of poor reasoning or limited vision can land as challenges to that internal standard.
NF — The Idealists
For many NFs, authenticity and good intention sit near the center. There’s often a strong identification with being principled, sincere, and emotionally aligned with one’s values. When intentions are misunderstood, the reaction tends to reach beyond the immediate situation to the feeling that something essential about the self has been misread.
Angelina Bennet, in her work on the “shadows” of psychological type, writes about how people can become unconsciously attached to an ego image of who they believe they are supposed to be. That attachment can quietly shape not only how they express their strengths, but also how narrowly they allow themselves to live inside those strengths.
When Protection Turns into a Wall
But when ego’s protective instinct protection tightens too much, it can begin to narrow the space in which growth is possible.
It often shows up in familiar patterns:
justifying instead of listening
withdrawing instead of engaging
needing to be right instead of curious
avoiding feedback instead of exploring it
perfecting instead of experimenting
The problem begins when coherence turns into rigidity – when the story of “me” becomes so narrow that ordinary life keeps bumping into it, painfully.
In that state, the world feels harsher than it needs to. Feedback lands like a judgment. Disagreement carries heat. Complexity becomes exhausting, so we simplify it. We do this because the ego is working overtime to keep the self intact.
Ego development is the gradual widening of that internal story. Our identify of self becomes spacious enough to take in reality without immediately turning it into an identify crisis or threat. We can revise without collapsing. We can learn without losing face. We can let other people be different without needing to make them wrong.
That shift – from a self that has to defend its story to a self that can expand it – is the beginning of real adult development.
Where We Go Next
In the next part of this series, we’ll step into the work of the researchers who tried to map how adult perspective actually grows over time – people like Angelina Bennett, Jane Loevinger, Susanne Cook-Greuter, Bill Torbert, and Robert Kegan.
Across different models and languages, they arrived at a similar insight:
- Adults don’t just accumulate knowledge.
- They can grow in how they make meaning.
- They can learn to hold more of the world – and more of themselves – in view at the same time.
And that shift in how we see ourselves and others may be one of the most underappreciated forces shaping what humanity becomes next. That’s the path we’ll start walking in Part 3.
Check out the rest of this series...
If you enjoyed this post, we invite you to check out the full series:
Part 1 – “Other Me”
We begin this series with a small, disorienting idea: the person across from you is not as distant from you as your mind would prefer to believe.
Parte 2 - O que é o ego?
Uma simples olhada no que o ego realmente faz é (não a versão da cultura pop) e como ela molda discretamente a maneira como vemos a nós mesmos e aos outros.
Parte 3 - Como o ego cresce
Uma visão geral prática dos estágios pelos quais os adultos passam à medida que desenvolvem mais perspectiva, flexibilidade e capacidade emocional.
Parte 4 - Sombras do tipo
Como cada um dos 16 tipos de personalidade tende a crescer - e a ficar preso - e como o conhecimento do seu tipo pode facilitar o desenvolvimento.
Parte 5 - O futuro da humanidade
Por que a maior parte do desenvolvimento real de adultos acontece agora dentro das empresas, especialmente por meio da liderança e da dinâmica da equipe.
Parte 6 - Liderança como legado
Uma reformulação da liderança: seu maior impacto de longo prazo é o crescimento das pessoas que você desenvolve ao longo do caminho.
Parte 7 - Paternidade e crescimento
Por que ser pai é uma das jornadas de desenvolvimento do ego mais poderosas (e humildes) disponíveis para qualquer adulto.
Parte 8 - Redefinindo a si mesmo
Como você pode mudar intencionalmente aspectos de sua identidade - a raiz da mudança de hábitos e da transformação pessoal.
