The Self Is Other People

 Introduction

Who are you?

It’s a question that has captivated philosophers, psychologists, and spiritual thinkers for millennia. When asked, we tend to answer in terms of identity—name, beliefs, career, personality traits, memories. But what if that very "self" we so often consider a private, inner world isn't solely contained within us?

What if, as the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre once provocatively suggested, “The self is other

 

people”?

Far from being an abstract philosophical riddle, this idea is increasingly supported by findings in psychology, neuroscience, sociology, and even evolutionary biology. It challenges our individualistic narratives and invites us to consider how profoundly others shape who we are.

 

The Illusion of an Isolated Self

Modern Western culture tends to champion individualism. We are told to "find ourselves," "be true to ourselves," and "live authentically." This language assumes that the self is a fixed entity within—autonomous and independent of others. But this notion is not only culturally specific, it's biologically and psychologically misleading.

 

Psychology and Neuroscience: The Relational Brain

Studies show that the human brain is wired for social connection. From birth, we develop our sense of identity by mirroring others—our caregivers, friends, and society. Mirror neurons, for example, activate not just when we act, but when we observe someone else performing an action. These neurons are foundational for empathy and social learning.

 

As psychologist Louis Cozolino put it, “We are not the survival of the fittest. We are the survival of the nurtured.” Our sense of who we are is not formed in isolation, but in interaction.

 

Sartre’s “The Look”: How Others Define Us

Sartre’s existentialist philosophy famously explored how other people play a role in constructing our identity. His concept of “the look” (le regard) explains how becoming aware of being seen by another person fundamentally changes our experience of ourselves.

 

For example, imagine dancing alone in your room. You're free, expressive. Then someone enters unexpectedly and sees you. Suddenly, you become self-conscious, viewing yourself through their eyes.

 

You haven’t changed—but your self-perception has. You are now an object in someone else’s world.

This “objectification” may feel threatening, but it also reveals something powerful: our identities are not fixed but are co-created through the gaze, judgment, and acknowledgment of others.

 

The Social Self in Everyday Life

Sociologist Charles Horton Cooley introduced the idea of the “looking-glass self”—we form our self-image based on how we think others see us. This happens continuously:

• We dress for how we want to be perceived.
• We modify our behavior in different social contexts.
• We derive self-esteem from acceptance, respect, or admiration.

 

In a sense, we are performing versions of ourselves depending on who we are with. Are you the same person with your parents as you are with your partner? Or your boss? These shifts aren't signs of inauthenticity—they are signs of the relational nature of the self.

 

The Self Is Not a Thing—It’s a Process

Modern psychology increasingly sees the self not as a noun but a verb—a process that unfolds through interaction and narrative. You are not a static object. You are a story being told, refined and rewritten through your relationships.

 

This has profound implications:

• Identity is dynamic—we are always becoming.
• Loneliness is not just painful—it’s disorienting. Without others to reflect us back to ourselves, our sense of self weakens.
• Growth requires others—we need relationships to stretch, challenge, and support us.

 

The Eastern Perspective: No-Self and Interbeing

Eastern philosophies have long echoed the idea that the self is not separate. In Buddhism, the concept of anatta means "non-self"—the belief that there is no unchanging, permanent self. Everything that we take to be "I" is actually a bundle of experiences, conditioned by others and impermanent.

Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Zen master, coined the term “interbeing” to describe the radical interconnectedness of all things. He writes:

“If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain, and without rain, the trees cannot grow, and without trees, we cannot make paper.”

 

Likewise, without others, there is no "you."

 

The Risks of Ignoring This Truth

When we cling to the myth of the isolated, autonomous self, we suffer in several ways:

• We overemphasize self-reliance and undervalue community.
• We feel ashamed of needing others—emotionally or practically.
• We may struggle with identity when social roles shift (e.g., job loss, breakup, parenthood).
• We experience existential anxiety, feeling cut off in a world that demands individual success.

 

But when we embrace that the self is relational, we unlock a more compassionate, flexible, and realistic understanding of human nature.

 

What This Means in Practice

Recognizing that “the self is other people” doesn’t mean you lack agency or uniqueness. It means:

• You are shaped by every interaction—so choose your circles mindfully.
• You influence others’ identities—your words and presence matter more than you know.
• Self-awareness includes social awareness—who are you becoming in relation to those around you?

Rather than striving to "find yourself" in isolation, consider how you construct yourself in community, in conversation, and in connection.

 

Conclusion

The self is not a solitary island—it is an archipelago, shaped by the tides of culture, relationships, and shared experience. As Sartre, Cooley, and contemporary science remind us: to know yourself, you must look beyond yourself.

The idea that “the self is other people” is not a diminishment of individuality—it’s a deep recognition of our humanity. We are, at our core, relational beings, constantly forming and reforming who we are in the mirror of each other.

 

And in that mirror, perhaps we don’t lose ourselves—but finally see ourselves more clearly.