Narcissism

In today's digital age, selfies have become a global phenomenon. Millions of people, especially young adults, spend countless hours capturing and sharing images of themselves. This trend reflects a growing desire for self-expression, social validation, and personal branding. Here are the most current stats as of the end of 2024:

• 92 million selfies are taken every day.
• Individuals spend 54 hours a year (or 7 minutes a day) taking selfies.
• The average “selfie-taker” is 24 years old.
• Women take 1.5 times more selfies than men.
• A full 95% of youth have taken selfies, compared to 63% of those aged 35–54 and only 44% of people over 55.
• Roughly 33% of pictures snapped by 18 to 24-year-olds are self-portraits.
• Millennials are forecast to capture around 25,700 selfies over their lifetime.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Kind of makes you think that the world was a little less narcissistic when we had to pay for film.

Many zoos are facing a new dilemma: gorillas and screen time. Great apes have become interested in watching videos of themselves on the phones of visitors.

For instance, in San Diego, four hulking male gorillas roamed their zoo enclosure, sitting pensively on rocks overlooking a waterfall and climbing a wooden structure. Suddenly, an 18-year-old western lowland gorilla named Ekuba bounded up to the glass. The 380-pound animal looked expectantly at a man wearing a shirt bearing the gorilla’s image as he pulled out his phone. Ekuba stood on all fours and began watching videos—of himself and other gorillas.

Ekuba isn’t the only gorilla enthralled with devices. Across North America, zoos have grappled with, and sometimes embraced, primates taking an interest in screen time. In Louisville, Ky., a 27-year-old gorilla named Jelani has been enamored with phones for years, flicking his finger or tapping the glass when he’s ready for a visitor to swipe to the next shot. At the Toronto Zoo, keepers have hung signs to dissuade showing screens to gorillas, citing disruption to their family dynamic.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Creation; Responsibility; Stewardship - The Bible teaches that humans are given dominion over animals, but this comes with a responsibility for their well-being. This story can serve as an example of the proverb “Monkey see, monkey do" which reminds us that our actions can influence those around us, even animals who are keen observers, and they often replicate both positive and negative actions they observe in their environment.

Augustin Lignier, a photographer in Paris, created a photo booth for rats. He took inspiration from B.F. Skinner, the famous researcher who made The Skinner Box, designed to dispense food pellets when rats pushed a designated lever.

It became one of the most well-known experiments in psychology. Reward-seeking rats became lever-pressing pros, pushing the bar down over and over again in exchange for food, drugs, or even a gentle electric zap directly to the pleasure center of the brain.

Mr. Lignier built his own version of a Skinner Box—a tall, transparent tower with an attached camera—and released two pet-store rats inside. Whenever the rats pressed the button inside the box, they got a small dose of sugar and the camera snapped their photo. The resulting images were immediately displayed on a screen, where the rats could see them. (“But honestly I don’t think they understood it,” Mr. Lignier said.)

The rodents quickly became enthusiastic button pushers. But then the rewards became more unpredictable. Although the rats were still photographed every time they hit the button, the sweet treats came only once in a while, by design. These kinds of intermittent rewards can be very powerful, keeping animals glued to their slot machines as they await their next jackpot.

In the face of these unpredictable rewards, the rats ignored the sugar even when it did arrive, and just kept pressing the button anyway. To Mr. Lignier, the parallel is obvious. “Digital and social media companies use the same concept to keep the attention of the viewer as long as possible,” he said.

Indeed, social media has been described as “a Skinner Box for the modern human,” doling out periodic, unpredictable rewards—a like, a follow, a promising romantic match—that keep us glued to our phones.

Singer-songwriter and author Sandra McCracken writes in an issue of CT magazine:

Greek mythology may not be a guide to the Christian life, but I appreciate the clever commentary the ancient stories offer. I was recently reminded of Narcissus, the young man who neglected all other loves and physical needs so he could stare endlessly at his own reflection. Narcissus eventually dies while sitting by the reflection pool—the tragic and ironic conclusion to his selfish love.

The old, dark comedy still applies—maybe especially applies—to our modern ego and pride. We have more than just pools and mirrors to contend with. ... Aided by our phones and social media, many of us spend more time with our reflections than even Narcissus did. The overwhelming majority of Americans now own smartphones. And with billions of mobile devices in circulation around the world, the situation is the same in many other countries. We are a selfie society, encouraged to view and post about ourselves often, in hopes of attracting more likes and boosting our “brand.”

To see only ourselves and to spend life captivated by our own dim radiance is, in effect, to die. And death is always a tragedy. To see God, however, is to see resurrection and new life. When we look to Jesus to remember more fully our true worth, we gain freedom from vain self-reflection, knowing instead that we belong to the one Source of true delight.

Author and pastor Mark Sayers says there are two stories competing for our minds and hearts. The first story is broadcast loudly across pop culture, social media, and all media. It claims that you and I are the center of the universe. We are unique individuals, and we can be awesome. We just need to create our identities. By making the right choices with our wardrobe and weekends, and by hanging out with the right people and doing the right things, we can be limitlessly happy. The world offers you and me an amazing life; we just have to go out and make it happen.

The second story is quiet. It’s more of a whisper from the back burner in our brains, but it will not go away. It’s there in the quiet, in the middle of the night. It’s the longing when the promises of the first story under-deliver. The whisper tells us we were made for more. In hushed voices, it insists that we have an immovable and important identity, a sort of real home somewhere out there. We’re longing for it, and we know it’s not just in our imaginations. There’s got to be more to this life, it nags.

We continuously suppress that second story, though, largely because the first story is so loud. Everything from Instagram to movies to clothing ads to political campaigns declares that we can be whoever we want to be. Pursuing the second story takes time and intentionality and going against every cultural grain.

Kelly Kay Green wanted to be someone. So, she donned a specially made dress, chugged a Coors Light for courage, and ran onto the field at the Super Bowl in February 2020. In her pursuit of fame, Green thought of everything: She selected a seat close to the field, trained with a physical therapist to stick the landing, engaged a lawyer, and bought a Velcro-equipped dress she could strip away.

Green wanted to make it to the 50-yard line from her end zone seat. She did not even make it to the one-yard line. Arrested almost instantly, she feared that her ambitions of internet celebrity would lead only to a long, cold night in lockup.

After her release, though, a photographer was waiting. Reunited with her phone, Green saw her Instagram statistics soaring. Her mug shot rocketed around the internet. Followers multiplied, ultimately hundreds of thousands of them, with many eager to pay for videos and pictures that were often at the very least suggestive. Invitations to high-profile parties arrived, too.

“All of a sudden, I wasn’t just the hot girl or the girl that ran on the field,” she said. “I was a hot Instagram influencer that ran on the field and had worldwide attention.” But she also found that fame has a downside. Green said, “[Fame] looks so inviting and so glamorous, but I learned quickly that [celebrity] events give me anxiety, being around people who are just asking me what I can do and how can I help them,” she said. “All of these things that Hollywood is, and will always be, that looked so appealing to me just turned me completely off from it.”

Green moved back to Tennessee. She still has a copy of her mugshot.

Columnist David Brooks mocks what passes for humility these days. He points to a tweet from the president of the European Central Bank: “I was humbled to be awarded an honorary degree by the London School of Economics earlier this week. Thank you so much for this prestigious honor!” Brooks notes the three rules of this fake humility.

#1) Never tweet about any event that could actually lead to humility. Never tweet: “I’m humbled that I went to a party, and nobody noticed me.” Never tweet: “I’m humbled that I got fired for incompetence.”

#2) Use the word humbled when the word proud would be more accurate. For example: “Truly humbled to be keynote speaker at TedX East Hampton.” The key to humility display is to use self-effacement as a tool to maximize your self-promotion.

#3) Never use a pronoun. Start your tweets with “Humbled to be …” or “Honored to be …” This sends the message that you have only a few seconds to dash off this tweet, because you’re so busy and important.

We used to dance around our humblebragging, but now Brooks says “our [so-called] humility is explicit, assertive, direct, and unafraid. We blaze forth so much humility that it’s practically blinding. Humility is the new pride.”

A recent interview with actress Maria Fabriela de Faria, in Global Heroes from The Wall Street Journal, perfectly reveals our culture of self-centered individualism.

When asked, “What is one good choice that everyone can make to improve the world around them?” She answered, “Look for your own truth, LIVE your own truth instead of repeating anyone else’s.” She explained: “What’s crucial to me is to make my audience . . . [question] old beliefs.” She counsels her fans to engage in a daily practice of asking, “What do I need today?” because “the only person who will know what works for you, is you.”

The marathon is one of the most strenuous athletic events in sport. The Boston Marathon attracts the best runners in the world. The winner is automatically placed among the great athletes of our time. A few years ago, Rosie Ruiz was the first woman to cross the finish line. She had the laurel wreath placed on her head in a blaze of lights and cheering.

She was completely unknown in the world of running. An incredible feat! Her first race a victory in the prestigious Boston Marathon! Then someone noticed her legs—loose flesh, cellulite. Questions were asked. No one had seen her along the 26.2-mile course. The truth came out: she had jumped into the race during the last mile.

There was immediate and widespread interest in Rosie. Why would she do that when it was certain that she would be found out? Athletic performance cannot be faked. But she never admitted her fraud. She repeatedly said that she would run another marathon to validate her ability. Somehow, she never did. People interviewed her, searching for a clue to her personality. She was analyzed as a sociopath. She lied convincingly and naturally with no sense of conscience, no sense of reality in terms of right and wrong, acceptable and unacceptable behavior.

In reading about Rosie, we can think of all the people we know who want to get in on the finish but who cleverly arrange not to run the race. They appear in church on Sunday wreathed in smiles, entering into the celebration, but there is no personal life that leads up to it or out from it. They are plausible and convincing. But in the end, they do not run the race, believing through the tough times, praying the lonely, angry, hurt hours. The proper name for such a person is a religiopath.

NBA Hall of Fame coach Pat Riley popularized the term the “Disease of More.” Riley has noted that many championship pro teams in the NFL, MLB, NBA, and NHL don’t repeat. The main factor is that the team is defeated from within, not from without.

The players want more. At first, that “more” was winning the championship. But once players have that championship, it’s no longer enough. The “more” becomes other things--more money, more TV commercials, more endorsements and accolades, more playing time, more plays called for them, more media attention, etc.

As a result, what was once a cohesive group of hardworking men begins to fray. Egos get involved. Gatorade bottles are thrown. And the mental attitude of the team changes and their perfect chemistry becomes a toxic mess. Players feel entitled to ignore the small, routine tasks that actually win championships, believing that they’ve earned the right to not do it anymore. Then what was the most talented team ends up failing.

What they didn’t realize is what they were trading off. They were no longer able to focus on the nitty-gritty of basketball. And as a team, they suffered. Ultimately they were dethroned, not by other, better teams, but by forces from within themselves.

It's a sign of the times--and maybe a sign of our culture. People are taking so many selfies, they're getting "Selfie Wrist." Tina Choi, 29, works in digital media promotion. She says a successful selfie can raise the profile and income of her clients. Choi believes selfies are an effective way of sharing a sense of yourself. "It’s really about telling a story. Where you're at. What you're doing. How active you are," Choi said.

But all that selfie taking started causing tingling in her fingers and wrist and later discomfort. After a few months she said it felt like a sharp pain in the corner of her wrist and it actually would prevent her from working. "It's a form of carpal tunnel because this hyperflexion of the wrist appears to cause … the nerve to become inflamed and angry," said Dr. Levi Harrison, an orthopedic surgeon. He said the problem begins when patients constantly hyper-flex their wrist inwards in a rush to capture that perfect angle.

Harrison showed her exercises to do for just minutes a day. After a few weeks, Tina's pain improved. Now she takes much safer selfies. "That is the nature of our generation right now," she said, "We're taking so many selfies these days."

Every little girl dreams of the day she gets to walk down the aisle in a white dress toward her "Prince Charming." But when a "Prince Charming" didn't come along for Italian fitness trainer Laura Mesi, she decided to forget that piece and move along with her big day anyway. In a ceremony that was not actually legally binding, the woman said "I do" to herself, in front of bridesmaids, 70 guests, and a 3-layer wedding cake. "I firmly believe that each of us must first of all love ourselves," said Mesi. "You can have a fairytale even without the prince." Her near-lavish wedding seemed to prove it. But she went on to admit, "If one day I find a man with whom I can plan a future I'll be happy, but my happiness does not depend on him." Proponents of the growing trend (dubbed "sologamy") say it is not necessarily about feminism, but about celebrating and embracing those who have not found the social affirmation of marriage.

Potential Preaching Angles: While it may be possible to have "a fairytale without a prince," how mistaken we would be to forget that we already have a Prince in our love story. Indeed our happiness cannot depend on other humans, but neither can it depend on ourselves alone. Love for oneself and love for others both come from something much, much greater—God's immeasurable love for us.

In "The Era of the Narcissist," Aaron Kheriaty points out the self-absorption of our era:

Of all the amazing features of the medieval cathedrals, one feature stands out as very strange to the modern mind: We have no idea who designed and built them. The architects and builders did not bother to sign their names on the cornerstones. People today might ask, Why build the cathedral of Notre-Dame de Chartres if you can't take credit for it? No lasting fame? No immortalized human glory? We're perplexed by the humility of these forgotten artists who labored in obscurity. Do and disappear? This is not how we roll in the America of the twenty-first century.

All this humility and anonymity began to change during the Enlightenment. For example, when Jean-Jacques Rousseau's wrote his book Confessions in 1789 he dedicated it "to me, with the admiration I owe myself." The book opens with these lines: "I have entered upon a performance which is without example, whose accomplishment will have no imitator. I mean to present my fellow-mortals with a man in all the integrity of nature; and this man shall be myself."

In contrast, the 4th century Christian thinker Augustine's Confessions (Rousseau ripped off Augustine's title) gives all glory to God, as in his opening line from the Book of Psalms: "Great thou art, and greatly to be praised." As much as we might admire Augustine's humility, Rousseau's language sounds more familiar. "To me, with the admiration I owe myself" is a dedication that would look right at home today on social media.

An article in the New York Times observes how "humility is not what it used to be." As a matter of fact, it may be the exact opposite of what it used to mean:

Lately it's pro forma—possibly even mandatory—for politicians, athletes, celebrities, and other public figures to be vocally and vigorously humbled by every honor awarded, prize won, job offered, record broken, pound lost, shout-out received, "like" copped and thumb upped.

Diving at random into the internet and social media finds this new humility everywhere. A soap-opera actress on tour is humbled by the outpouring of love from fans. Comedians are humbled by big laughs, yoga practitioners are humbled by achieving difficult poses, athletes are humbled by good days on the field, Christmas volunteers are humbled by their own generosity and holiday spirit.

And yet none of these people sound very "humbled" at all. On the contrary: They all seem exceedingly proud of themselves, hashtagging their humility to advertise their own status, success, sprightliness, generosity, moral superiority, and luck. When did humility get so cocky and vainglorious?

Elizabeth Landau, a 32-year-old single person, wrote in a Scientific American article that a lot of people her age (Millennials) are what she calls "commitment phobes." Publicly, Ms. Landau supports her friends' marriages, "But, privately," she writes, "I feel left behind in what Vanity Fair described as a 'dating apocalypse.' Of course, plenty of single men and women like me don't seek out one-night stands. But I feel like, in the dating-app era, many aren't keen on investing lots of quality time in any particular match when a better one might be a swipe away." Landau continues: "My outlook may have entered a vicious cycle: It's hard to get excited about meeting someone who won't care about you that much."

She is definitely on to something. The Pew Research Center reports that Millennials are significantly less likely to be married than previous generations in their 20s. A Gallup poll found that the percentage of 18 to 29-year-olds who say they are single and not living with a partner rose from 52 percent in 2004 to 64 percent in 2014. Marriage among 30-somethings also dropped 10 percentage points during that decade, while the percentage living together rose from seven to 13 percent.

But why? More than half of the Millennials surveyed by Pew characterize their own cohort as self-absorbed. "Trying to live with somebody else and putting their needs first is more difficult when you have been raised to put yourself first," says San Diego State University psychologist Jean Twenge.

In a question and answer period after one of his lectures, C.S. Lewis was asked which of the world's religions gives its followers the greatest happiness. Lewis paused and said, "While it lasts, the religion of worshipping oneself is best."

Possible Preaching Angle: In other words, if you want instant, but very short-term happiness, create a religion that focuses on worshipping you.

An August 2015 poll from Barna highlighted what's been called our "new moral code." Here are the percentages of those who agreed "completely" or "somewhat" with the following statements:

• "The best way to find yourself is to look within yourself"—91 percent of U.S. adults agreed; 76 percent of practicing Christians agreed.
• "People should not criticize someone else's lifestyle choices"—89 percent agreed; 76 percent of Christians agreed.
• "To be fulfilled in life, you should pursue the things you desire most"—86 percent agreed; 72 percent of Christians agreed.
• "The highest goal in life is to enjoy it as much as possible"—84 percent agreed; 66 percent of Christians agreed.
• "People can believe whatever they want, as long as those beliefs don't affect society"—79 percent agreed; 61 percent of Christians agreed.
• "Any kind of sexual expression between two consenting adults is acceptable"—69 percent agreed; 40 percent of Christians agreed.

Based on these results, David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons conclude: "The morality of self-fulfillment is everywhere, like the air we breathe. Much of the time we don't even notice we're constantly bombarded with messages that reinforce self-fulfillment—in music, movies, video games, apps, commercials, TV shows, and every other kind of media."

Selfies-they might seem a bit narcissistic at times, but on the whole they're harmless, right? Not according to the numbers. Reports say that this death toll from selfie-related incidents is now well over 259. In that same period just 50 people were killed by sharks. Most of the incidents involve tourists attempting to take pictures of themselves near dangerously high ledges before losing their balance and falling.

Possible Preaching Angle:

The result, though tragic, bears an uncanny resemblance to our sinful human condition that so often desires more fun, more power, and more glory for ourselves, only to be brought crashing down by the futility of our own desire.

The animated movie Shrek gets so many things right about our lives. One such example is the pitiful little king of the land, Lord Farquaad. Farquaad is a single man. The one thing he feels is missing from his kingdom is the lovely princess Fiona, who has long been locked up in a castle far away, guarded by a deadly, fire-breathing dragon. There have been many failed attempts to rescue Fiona; many would-be rescuers have lost their lives.

Farquaad gathers his bravest knights together for a competition. The knights are placed inside an arena to duel against each other until only one of them is left standing. The prevailing knight will have the "honor" of going out on Lord Farquaad's behalf to rescue Fiona. Farquaad, himself a coward, offers the following "inspirational" speech to the knights before they turn against each other in the arena:

Brave knights, you are the best and brightest in all the land. Today one of you shall prove himself. That champion shall have the honor—no, no—the privilege to go forth and rescue the lovely Princess Fiona from the fiery keep of the dragon. If for any reason the winner is unsuccessful, the first runner-up will take his place and so on and so forth. Some of you will die, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make.

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Selfishness; Love—This illustration sets up a gently humorous way to talk about how all of us to one degree or another protect ourselves. (2) Husbands—Men and husbands are specifically called to lay down their lives for their wives. (3) Christ, death of—Jesus did the exact opposite of Lord Farquaad (and us!) by laying down his life for us even when we were unworthy.

An article in Vanity Fair contains some shocking quotes and vignettes about a website that connects people for the sole purpose of having sex. Marty, an investment banker from Manhattan, claims that he's been "racking up girls." He says he's slept with 30 to 40 women in the last year: "I sort of play that I could be a boyfriend kind of guy," in order to win them over, "but then they start wanting me to care more … and I just don't."

"It's like ordering Seamless," says Dan, another investment banker, referring to the online food-delivery service. "But you're ordering a person."

"There is no dating. There's no relationships," says Amanda, a senior at Boston College. "They're rare. You can have a fling that could last like seven, eight months and you could never actually call someone your 'boyfriend.' [Hooking up] is a lot easier. No one gets hurt—well, not on the surface."… It's a contest to see who cares less, and guys win a lot at caring less."

One of Amanda's friends chimes in, "Sex should stem from emotional intimacy, and it's the opposite with us right now, and I think it really is kind of destroying females' self-images."

The reporter says that none of the guys she spoke to want to be in a relationship. "I don't want one," says Nick. "I don't want to have to deal with all that—stuff." "You can't be selfish in a relationship," Brian says. "It feels good just to do what I want."

She asks them if it ever feels like they lack a deeper connection with someone. There's a small silence. After a moment, John says, "I think at some points it does." "But that's assuming that that's something that I want, which I don't," Nick says, a trifle annoyed. "Does that mean that my life is lacking something? I'm perfectly happy. I have a good time. I go to work—I'm busy. And when I'm not, I go out with my friends."