Those of us of a certain age decry the modern sensibilities of “everyone gets a trophy” for participating. Such awards diminish truly worthy accomplishments, and falsely build up people who maybe didn’t even really try. Christopher Gage takes a stab at some of the problems brought about by the self-esteem movement from which such trophies stemmed.

After recounting a bit of history of where it all came from, he declares: “Later studies show the dictums of the self-esteem movement often had the reverse effect.”

In the mid-2000s, researchers sifted through 15,000 studies on self-esteem. They found just 200 matching their rigorous standards. Of those 200 studies, few, if any, backed up the claims of the self-esteem movement.

By then, it was much too late. The faulty concept of self-esteem informed our culture, media, institutions, and everything else.

When I was a teenager, the prevailing psychology was to ensure everyone felt good about themselves.

Our parents and our teachers eschewed all criticism and saturated us in unconditional praise. The self-esteem movement swept away alarming red pens, instead marking our ever-inflating grades in hues of soothing teal green. They traded grade “F” for “U,” “a bit dense” for “minimally exceptional,” knowing useful things for “knowing yourself.” The brutalism of correct answers gave way to the sentimentalism of no correct answers.

The right answers didn’t matter. Neither did grammar. The right answers were passé. What mattered was how one felt inside.

Rather than learn how to write declarative sentences, how to think critically, or how to sift the rational from the emotional, we learned how to love ourselves.

This monstrous miscalculation created generations of praise-addicted, validation seekers frozen by their fear of failure — millions crippled with anxiety and depression — alongside legions of narcissists convinced of their destiny with fame.

Visit any social media feed to witness the results of this experiment.

Gage argues that the movement didn’t even get it right when trying to act out on the teachings of Nathaniel Branden, “the ‘godfather’ of self-esteem.” In fact, they got his message backwards, and dangerously so. Gage concludes with another example to illustrate the big takeaway:

Professor Carol Dweck, the author of Mindset, found praising intelligence over effort led to the opposite of what was intended.

Through her experiments with elementary school children, Dweck identified two mindsets: a growth mindset and a fixed mindset.

Children with a growth mindset see their talents, their intelligence, and their abilities as malleable. They’re unafraid of failure. To them, challenges are opportunities. Children with a fixed mindset see their talents, their intelligence, and their abilities as fixed. They’re terrified of failure. To them, challenges are pitfalls.

In Dweck’s experiments, she gave each child a simple task. Researchers praised one group on their ability: “Wow. You did so well on this. You must be smart.”

To the other group, researchers praised their effort: “Wow. You did so well on this. You must have worked really hard.”

The next challenge proved much more arduous than the last. What happened? Those praised for their ability got frustrated, gave up faster, and claimed they weren’t “smart enough” to do the challenge. Those praised for their effort stayed the course, enjoyed the challenge, and put in the work.

Just one sentence of unearned praise froze those children into a fear of failure. So, what did decades of the very same thing do to the rest of us?

Read the whole thing here.