Don’t Let Jordan Peterson’s ‘Map of Meaning’ Prevent You from Learning about Your Own
Say you’re aggravated by Jordan Peterson’s position on Bill c 16. Or his priority of equal opportunity but not equal outcome upsets you; or his comments about tribalism get your goat. Whichever ideas incite your disapproval, ideas which, at least partially, are a reflection of Peterson’s map of meaning, don’t let it stop you from learning about your own.
In her book, There Are No Adults Here: A Midlife Coming-Of-Age Story, Pam Druckerman writes, “people often have a recurring message that amounts to a personal motto. They’re trying to get you to believe something about them and this underlies much of what they say. Most people have some story about themselves that they’ve assembled, and that they sort of believe. And you have to understand what their story is and not buy it.(2018, p.246)”
Perhaps if Peterson were writing this quote - specifically describing his understanding of the human condition - he would adapt the sentence only slightly to this: ‘people often have a recurring message that amounts to a personal motto. They have some story about themselves that they’ve assembled, that they sort of believe and it will underlie much of what they say. For their own good, they have to come to understand what their story is . . . and not buy it. They need to change and upgrade that story, so it better serves them as they move into the future.’
Though simplistic, the line I’ve just written has much to do with Peterson’s first text, Maps of Meaning: An Architecture of Belief. In that book, Peterson explains that in childhood we form a map of life which we go on to use over the decades that follow. He details exactly why we formed that map of life; how that map is sometimes replete with misguided ideas that can lead us off track; how it’s in our vested interest to access the contents of that map, hidden away in the unconscious, so as to purge old outdated beliefs that might be leading us astray; how culture itself informs our maps by embedding ideas in narratives, ideas designed to help us live together cooperatively in society. And more.
Peterson is not the first who has introduced the map of meaning. Several decades ago, psychiatrist Scott Peck brought that insight to our attention in his then bestseller, The Road Less Travelled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth, Peck wrote, “our view of reality is like a map with which to negotiate the terrain of life. If the map is true and accurate, we will generally know where we are, . . .. If the map is false and inaccurate, we generally will be lost.” (1978, p. 38, bolding is mine)
Peck goes on to point out that we internalize these maps and use them to guide ourselves through life. These are maps we make for ourselves through the difficult task of perceiving reality and registering truths. Since updating the map takes a certain amount of work and since many are reluctant to go through the pain of self-correction when errors of the map result in negative outcomes, many will not upgrade the map. They will continue to use the crude map of yesteryear, ignoring any information that contradicts that which is in their map. Even more likely, says Peck, they may “denounce the new information as false, dangerous, heretical, the work of the devil.” He adds, “We may actually crusade against [the new information] and even attempt to manipulate the world so as to make it conform to our view of reality.” (1978, p. 45, bolding is mine)
As a therapist, I’d like to say that Peterson is doing us a great favour by putting the map of meaning on our radar. If you choose to boycott his material because his political ideas don’t match yours, I urge you to listen-up. Peterson has generously shared his lectures on the map of meaning, full courses on that topic, and, of course, he has written his book. If, in the spirit of cancel culture, you turn away from his offerings, you do so at your own risk.
Why?
Because your character is an outgrowth of that map of meaning. And everything in your life will follow from that character. As James Hillman (1999, p. 262) wrote in The Force of Character and the Lasting Life, “character forces me to encounter each event in my peculiar style. It forces me to differ. I walk through life oddly. No one else walks as I do, and this is my courage, my dignity, my integrity, my morality . . . and my ruin.”
Affiliate links provide full bibliographic data.
