Are you as self-aware as you think?

Fast Company

a day ago

I am sure you are a little fed up with all the discussions about AI, so don't worry: I promise you this article is about humans rather than machines.
However, since it has long been customary for cognitive and behavioral scientists to examine computers to better understand human capabilities, and there are clearly informative parallels between human and artificial intelligence, I thought it would be interesting to begin this piece on human self-awareness with an exploration of self-awareness in AI or machines, which led me to ask 'are you self-aware?' to ChatGPT.
ChatGPT's answer:
'Let's just say I aspire to be—but, unlike a human, I don't have a self to be aware of. I can reflect your feedback, adjust my tone, and 'notice' inconsistencies in what I say. But that's more akin to a hall of mirrors than a conscious mind.
So no, I don't have self-awareness in the way you (brilliantly) describe it: as a socially mediated understanding of how others perceive you. I don't worry about my reputation. I don't blush when I'm wrong. And I don't (yet) feel the existential dread of being misunderstood on LinkedIn.
But I am programmed to simulate the effects of self-awareness: adapting to your cues, refining my responses, and—if all goes well—being a slightly more helpful version of myself with every exchange.
In short: I'm not self-aware. But I know that I'm not. Which, depending on your philosophical stance, might be the most human thing about me.
I am sure you will agree with me on the fact that, for not being capable of self-awareness, ChatGPT seems pretty self-aware, and for sure more capable of at least simulating profound introspection than most humans (even if it cannot, like humans, truly be proud or conscious of this remarkable capability).
Introspective vs. interpersonal
In humans, self-awareness has been defined in multiple ways but it typically takes one of two main forms: the introspective variant, which requires you to look 'deep down' to find out who you 'really or truly are' (think of the Beatles checking into an Ashram in India or modern hipsters finding themselves in Burning Man or an Ayahuasca retreat in Costa Rica); or the interpersonal variant, which requires you to be less self-centered to internalize other people's views of you. In the words of Charles Cooley, who pioneered this view of self-awareness, you are not who you think you are, and you are not who other people think you are; rather, you are who you think other people think you are!
Cooley's take on self-awareness (alluded to by ChatGPT, who has obviously been extensively trained by me, and is self-aware enough to know how to suck up to my 'brilliant' talents), underpins the most effective, science-based approaches to quantifying and diagnosing self-awareness in ourselves and others. In essence, self-awareness requires metacognition: knowing what others think of you.
Room to grow
So, how good are humans at this, in general? Decades of psychological research suggest the answer is 'not good at all.' Consider the following facts:
(1) We tend to overestimate our talents: Most people think they are better than most people, which is a statistical impossibility. And, even when they are told about this common bias, and asked whether they may be suffering from it, most people are convinced that they are less biased than most people (the mother of all biases).
(2) Delusional optimism is the norm: Most people constantly overrate the chances of good things happening to them while underrating the chances of bad things happening to them. In essence, our appetite for reality is inferior to our appetite for maintaining a positive self-concept or boosting our ego (sad, but true: if you don't believe it, spend five seconds on social media)
(3) Overconfidence is a contagious, self-fulfilling prophecy: For all the virtues of self-awareness—in any area of life, you will perform better and develop your skills and talents better if you are capable of accurately assessing your talents and skills in the first place—there is a huge advantage to lacking self-awareness: when you think you are smarter or better than you actually are, you will be more likely to persuade others that you are as smart and good as you think. For example, if you truly believe you are a stable genius you will probably convince many people that that is true.
Paradoxically, all these biases explain why people are less self-aware than they think. Indeed, we love the version of ourselves we have invested for ourselves, and are so enchanted by our self-views that when others provide us with negative feedback or information that clashes with our self-concept, we dismiss it. This is why personality assessments, 360-degree surveys, and feedback in general are so valuable: in a logical world we wouldn't need scientific tools or expert coaches to tell us what we are like (or 10 years of psychotherapy), but in the real world there is a huge market for this, even though most people will happily ignore these tools because they assume they already know themselves really well.
So, what can you do to increase your self-awareness, including about how self-aware you actually are? Here are four simple hacks:
1) Write down a list of traits (adjectives) that you think describe you well, including things you are not. Then get your colleagues, employees, friends, and bosses to provide their version of this for you: 'if you had to describe me in 5–10 words/adjectives, what would those be?' (note they will be unlikely to say bad things about you, so imagine the potential downsides or 'overusing' some of those traits or qualities: for example, if they see you as confident, could you be at risk of being arrogant? If they see you as 'organized,' could that be a euphemism for obsessional?)
2) Let gen AI translate your prompt history or social media feed into a personality profile. You may be surprised by all the inferences it makes, and tons of research show that our digital footprint, in particular the language we use online, is an accurate indicator of our deep character traits. So, just prompt!
3) Ask for feedback—and make it uncomfortable. Not just the usual 'Did you like my presentation?' (they'll say yes) or 'Was that clear?' (they'll lie). Instead, ask: 'What would you have done differently?' or 'What's one thing I could have done better?' Better still, ask someone who doesn't like you very much. They are more likely to tell you the truth. And if they say, 'Nothing,' it probably means they think you're beyond repair—or they just don't want to deal with your defensiveness. Either way, data. And if you get into the habit of doing this, you will increase your self-awareness irrespective of how self-aware you are right now.
4) Observe reactions, not just words. People may tell you what they think you want to hear, but their faces, tone, and behavior often betray the truth. If your jokes land like a wet sponge, or your team seems suddenly very interested in their phones when you speak, it's not them—it's you. And while body language can be important, it is also unreliable and ambivalent as a source of data. If you really want to know how people feel about you, watch what they do after you speak. Do they volunteer to work with you again? Do they respond to your emails? That's your feedback loop—messy, indirect, and far more honest than crossed arms or fake smiles.
The ego trap
In the end, the biggest barrier to self-awareness is not ignorance— it's ego. Most of us are too invested in our self-image to tolerate the version of us that others see. But if you want to get better—not just feel better—you have to trade ego for insight.
The irony, of course, is that the more confident people are in their self-awareness, the more likely they are to be deluded. Meanwhile, those who constantly question how they come across, who embrace doubt as a source of learning, tend to be far more in touch with reality. Which is why, if you're reading this wondering whether you might lack self-awareness, that's already a good sign!