Letters

The Brits call it “taking French leave.” The French condemn the same ghastly behavior as “partir a l’anglaise.”

At the start of World War II, the French hated “the Tommies” more than the “Boches,” eating pommes frites left behind on paper plates and smoking the rest of the cigarettes put out by the better-paid Brits. At the time, the Brits didn’t spare their American allies either: “The Yanks are overpaid, overfed, oversexed and over here.”

There’s something that all people seem to have in common, at least in the several countries in which I have lived: Beneath that loudly shouted allegiance to country called patriotism, people invariably use group identity as blanket permission to look down on others not fortunate enough to live in “the most beautiful country,” “the best country,” “the greatest country in the world.”

What about one’s house of worship? Belonging to any house of worship not only confers a prized group identity, but this identity comes with an indisputable knowledge of moral superiority to those worshiping elsewhere.

Then there is education. What is stated first upon introduction is the name of the university or college attended, not the body of knowledge acquired.

I dimly remember a book back in the 1950s that talked about people being “inner directed” or “outer directed.” The latter meant those who gain their sense of personal worth by group identities. In those days, it was not only professional or job identity, but also the name of the company which employed one.

Factory workers talked about “we” when they referred to Singer Sewing Machine Company or to General Motors. Even if their job was menial, they derived satisfaction from identifying with the big corporation that employed them.

That latter overidentification drifted into the past, as recessions and union bashing cut out job security. People no longer counted on working for the same firm for the rest of their lives.

One thing stayed the same: All outer-directed humans, especially in the post-World War II United States, derived their sense of personal value from some group identity or other.

So, I ask: Is there an individual who is truly centered, really inner-directed, fully satisfied with personal identity and value, who draws strength from within his/her own psyche, without need for group identity? Or would such an individual immediately seek out others so endowed and turn that group into one that could make fun of and look down on all those other poor slobs who are outer-directed?

Is the human animal also hard-wired with a herd instinct?

Evelyn Konrad

Attorney at law

Southampton