Wiym

My Identity


January 14, 2026

Identity is arguably one of the most distinctive aspects of consciousness in Homo sapiens.[1] We not only understand ourselves as entities separate from others, but we also experience ourselves as meaningful beings, even when we do not believe that life itself has an inherent purpose.

Some parts of our identity are given to us at birth. Someone who identifies as homosexual often does so because of how they were born. A person who considers a particular nationality as part of their identity often does so because of where they were born or raised.

These aspects of identity are not justified through logical reasoning or philosophical debate. They are, in many ways, similar to a manufacturer’s label on a piece of clothing: where it was made, what it is made of, and other descriptive facts.

There are, however, other, more nuanced aspects to our identities. Many of these emerge from upbringing and the cultural norms in which someone grows up. Someone who was born and raised in the Soviet Union most likely has a very different sense of who they are compared to someone who was born and raised in Norway in the early 2000s.

It would be rather unsurprising to see people either align themselves with or completely oppose the environment in which they were raised. In other words, they often define themselves in relation to a specific reference, such as a form of government, a religion, or a set of cultural norms.

Some other aspects of our identity are shaped through exposure to various forms of external knowledge. For example, someone may come to consider themselves a capitalist, or reject that label, based on what they see, hear, and read about capitalism.

For many people, these earned beliefs form the core of personal identity. Someone born in a country may not identify as a citizen of that country or as someone who belongs to that culture. Someone born with male or female sexual organs may not identify as male or female according to their biology.

Similarly, many turn away from the cultural or religious values they were raised in. It would be strange for someone not to identify with an ideology they acquired through thinking, reasoning, debating, or through a trusted external source.

Why would you not identify as X if you believe X is superior to its alternatives?

For many people, this not only seems like the best option, but the only option available. What would my identity be if I were not politically left, centre, or right? What would it say about me if I did not identify with capitalism or socialism? Who am I if I do not take a stance on whether a creator of the universe exists?

This line of thinking is so deeply rooted in our psyche that I am willing to bet most people do not even think about it throughout their lives.

To me, however, there is a serious problem with this way of defining someone’s identity: a conflict of interest.

Let me explain.

If you identify as pro-life or pro-choice in discussions related to abortion, you inevitably draw personal interest into an otherwise unbiased debate. Beyond that, you also bring along other baggage tied to different aspects of your identity: how can I be pro-choice when my religious studies prohibit such acts as cruel?

By the time we have reached the tender age of 40 or 50, this monolithic definition of identity has created a moat around our perception of the world, making it nearly impossible for new ideas to penetrate.

For an idea to pass the security checks, it must line up with everything else that we identify as—or we must make excuses or allow contradictions.

If that was not troublesome enough, identifying with earned beliefs makes rational debate emotionally challenging.

Imagine trying to conduct a rational debate about capitalism. Now consider yourself a capitalist. Do you think you can stay rational and free from bias when the subject of the debate is part of who you identify as? I do not think so.

Now imagine a very different situation. We are debating whether political view X is more beneficial for the masses than Y. You do not identify with X, Y, or any political view that favours or opposes either position.

In other words, your stance is neutral. If we debate 10 times a day, 5 days a week, and continue for years, chances are that you will remain neutral. As far as you are concerned, you are a rational person, and nothing in this debate attacks or defends your personal identity.

Which scenario do you think is more beneficial for everyone involved?

There are, of course, millions—if not billions—of people who argue that they are rational, that their emotional intelligence is higher than anyone else’s, and that they never allow biases to leak into their debates.

However, for the few who are not delusional, a more pressing question emerges: how else would you identify yourself?

Narrative Identity

I abandoned the notion of defining myself based on my beliefs many years ago. Later, I came across the succinct expression “strong beliefs, loosely held,” and have used it ever since.

This was, however, only the beginning.

If my beliefs could change from today to tomorrow, then what does that say about me? If I believed in X and someone convinced me to adopt Y as an ideology, was I really a believer in X?

Wouldn’t that open the door for anyone to change their mind with a faint breeze and claim intellectual superiority simply because their beliefs are held as loosely as possible?

Eventually, the answer revealed itself as identifying myself not with my beliefs, but with my past. The journey that has brought me to where I am today.

Instead of identifying as X or Y, I identify as someone who was at A many years ago. Through luck, reason, and trial and error, I was able to get to B. As I learnt more, B began to look like a mistake or a misunderstanding, so I learnt from what was available to me at the time and to the best of my abilities, and moved on—and the process continued.

When I eventually looked this up, I realised that it has a technical name in psychology: narrative identity. It argues that our identity is not merely a cluster of beliefs, but the story of how we arrived at them. There is a difference between an atheist who was born into an atheist family and someone who became an atheist through the course of their life.

This feeds into a larger topic in psychology called narrative psychology. A simplified version of it could be described as the idea that what we consider meaning is internalised as stories and narratives.

Similarly, philosophy argues that what we believe at a certain point in time is far less descriptive of our identity than the continuous stream of memories and experiences that make us who we are. In fact, John Locke argued that we are the same person because we remember our past experiences.

The very fact of being able to mentally time travel to the past and imagine the future also has a technical name: autonoetic consciousness. Without it, consciousness alone could be rendered meaningless.

This makes me wonder whether you identify with the journey that shaped who you are today, or with the beliefs and opinions you hold at any given moment.

Footnotes

  1. Deliberately not including other species of human beings. ↩︎