which, in a given case, may or may not be appropriate to reality. To judge the appropriateness or validity of his
emotional responses is one of the proper tasks of man's reason. If the authority of his reason is abnegated, if a man
permits himself to be carried along passively by feelings he does not judge, he loses the sense of control over his
existence: he loses the sense of self-regulation that is essential to self-esteem.
Healthy self-regulation does not consist of or entail repression; nor does it consist of dismissing one's emotions as
unimportant. It consists of recognizing that emotions are effects—consequences of value-judgments—and of being
concerned to know the nature of those judgments and the degree of their validity in a given context.
Significantly, it is the policy of rational self-regulation that is most conducive to healthy emotional spontaneity—in
contexts where spontaneity is appropriate (which only reason can judge); whereas a policy of unbridled
emotionalism necessarily leads a man to disasters, and ends by causing him to fear his emotions as sources of
danger and guilt (Chapter Five).
A child, at first, is not aware of such a concept or dichotomy as valid desires versus invalid desires; this distinction
rests on knowledge yet to be acquired. He comes to learn, from his experiences and from the teachings of his
parents, that some of the things he desires are good for him and others are not; later, he learns another, subtler
distinction: he is entitled to some of the things that he desires, but not to others. Thus, he comes to learn that the
validity of his desires must be judged.
Consider the case of a child who, at an age when he is old enough to know the meaning of theft, is tempted to steal
the toy of a friend. He hesitates to commit the theft, because he knows that he has no right to the toy and that he
would be indignant if his friend were to steal one of his toys. But he wants this particular toy. So he evades his
knowledge and commits the theft.
Within a few months, he forgets about the incident. But its consequences are not ended. Wordlessly registered in
his mind is a certain principle that was implied and entailed by his action: the principle that it is permissible, at
times, to ignore knowledge and facts in order to indulge a desire. This is the legacy of this theft—this, plus a
residue of vague, nameless guilt, the sense of some inner uncleanliness, the state of a mind learning to distrust
itself.