Rollo May

It may sound surprising when I say, on the basis of my own clinical practice as well as that of my psychological and psychiatric colleagues, that the chief problem of people in the middle decade of the twentieth century is emptiness. By that I mean not only that many people do not know what they want; they often do not have any clear idea of what they feel.

This barometer should be taken seriously, for it is one of the best indexes of the disruptions and problems which have not yet, but may soon, break out widely in the society

Before World War I, says Riesman, the typical American individual was “inner-directed.” He had taken over the standards he was taught, was moralistic in the late Victorian sense, and had strong motives and ambitions, derived from the outside though they were. He lived as though he were given stability by an inner gyroscope. This was the type which fits the early psychoanalytic description of the emotionally repressed person who is directed by a strong superego.

But the present typical American character, Riesman goes on to say, is “outer-directed.” He seeks not to be outstanding but to “fit in”; he lives as though he were directed by a radar set fastened to his head perpetually telling him what other people expect of him. This radar type gets his motives and directions from others; like the man who described himself as a set of mirrors, he is able to respond but not to choose; he has no effective center of motivation of his own.