What is the definition of pride? Honestly, it depends on who you ask and what kind of day they’re having. If you ask a monk, they might tell you it’s the deadliest of sins. Ask a parent watching their kid graduate, and it’s the purest form of love. It is a shape-shifter. One minute it’s the fuel that helps you finish a marathon, and the next, it’s the brittle ego that stops you from saying "I’m sorry" to your partner.
We use the word constantly. We feel it in our chests. But defining it is actually kind of a mess because pride isn't just one thing. It’s a dual-sided coin, and usually, we’re only looking at one side at a time.
The Two Faces of Pride
Psychologists like Jessica Tracy at the University of British Columbia have spent years digging into this. She argues there are actually two distinct flavors of pride: authentic and hubristic. This is a huge distinction. If you don't get this, you'll probably end up confused about why you feel great one day and like a jerk the next.
Authentic pride is the good stuff. It’s tied to specific achievements. You worked hard, you practiced your guitar for six months, and finally, you played a song without messing up. That warm glow? That’s authentic pride. It’s linked to high self-esteem and actual competence. It makes you want to be a better person.
Then there’s hubristic pride. This is the "I’m better than you" vibe. It’s less about what you did and more about who you think you are. It’s often arrogant, egotistical, and—this is the weird part—it’s frequently a mask for deep-seated insecurity. People with high hubristic pride aren't actually confident. They’re usually just terrified of being seen as "less than."
Why the Dictionary Doesn't Tell the Whole Story
If you flip open a standard dictionary, the definition of pride usually mentions "a feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one's own achievements." That’s fine for a crossword puzzle, but it misses the social glue aspect. Pride evolved. It’s not just an internal "yay me" moment. For our ancestors, showing pride was a way to signal status to the tribe.
🔗 Read more: 350 Camino de la Reina: What People Get Wrong About San Diego’s Most Convenient Hub
If you did something useful—like finding a fresh water source—you stood a little taller. Your chest puffed out. Your head tilted back. This "pride display" told everyone else, "Hey, I’m a valuable member of this group." It kept you from getting kicked out of the cave. We still do this today. Watch an athlete cross the finish line. Even blind athletes, who have never seen a "victory pose" in their lives, throw their arms up in the air. It’s hardwired.
The Moral Tug-of-War
Religion and philosophy have been at war with the definition of pride for millennia. In the Christian tradition, pride is the "root of all sin." It’s the arrogance that makes a person think they don't need God. Dante, in his Purgatorio, had the proud carrying massive stones on their backs to force them to look down at the ground. It’s heavy. It’s burdensome.
But then you have the Enlightenment thinkers and modern movements. Think about LGBTQ+ Pride. Here, the definition shifts entirely. It isn't about arrogance; it’s the refusal to be shamed. It’s an assertion of dignity in the face of a society that told people they should feel "less than." In this context, pride is a survival mechanism. It’s the antidote to shame.
The Physicality of the Feeling
Pride isn't just in your head. It’s in your blood. When we feel that authentic sense of accomplishment, our bodies release serotonin. It’s a "calm" status chemical. Unlike the frantic rush of dopamine you get from a "like" on social media, pride feels stable. It’s a groundedness.
✨ Don't miss: Masala Authentic Indian Cuisine: Why Most People Are Getting it Totally Wrong
However, when pride turns into hubris, the chemistry changes. It becomes more about dominance. It’s aggressive. You can feel the tension in your shoulders. Your heart rate might even tick up because hubristic pride is defensive. You’re constantly looking around to see if anyone is challenging your spot at the top of the mountain. It’s exhausting.
The Problem with "False Pride"
We’ve all met that person. The one who can’t admit they’re wrong because their pride won’t let them. This is where the definition of pride gets messy in relationships. In this scenario, pride is a wall. It’s a protective barrier built to keep people from seeing a mistake.
But here’s the kicker: real confidence—the kind that comes from authentic pride—doesn't need a wall. If you’re actually proud of your skills, you can admit when you mess up because one mistake doesn't define your entire value. Only the hubristic kind of pride feels threatened by a correction.
How to Tell Which One You’re Feeling
It can be tricky to self-diagnose in the moment. Next time you feel that swell in your chest, ask yourself a few questions. Are you happy because you reached a goal? Or are you happy because someone else failed?
- Authentic: "I’m so glad the work I put into this presentation paid off."
- Hubristic: "I’m clearly the smartest person in this office."
See the difference? One is about the process and the effort. The other is about the hierarchy and the ego.
The Cultural Lens
Not every culture views pride the same way. In many Western cultures, especially in the US, we celebrate individual pride. We’re taught to "sell ourselves" in job interviews and "be proud" of our personal wins. It’s very "I" focused.
In many East Asian cultures, the definition of pride is often more collective. It’s about the family, the company, or the nation. Feeling individual pride can actually be seen as a bit shameful or embarrassing if it separates you from the group. You’re proud of your team, not above your team.
This cultural nuance is why so many people struggle with the concept. We’re often trying to apply a Western "individualist" definition to a human emotion that is much more social and complex than we give it credit for.
Practical Steps for Balancing Pride
Since pride is inevitable, the goal isn't to kill it off. That would be boring and probably bad for your career. The goal is to steer it toward the authentic side of the road.
First, focus on the "how," not the "who." When you succeed, talk about the steps you took. Mention the people who helped. This keeps your pride tethered to reality and prevents it from floating off into the clouds of hubris. It’s hard to be an arrogant jerk when you’re busy acknowledging your mentor’s help.
Second, practice "intellectual humility." This sounds fancy, but it basically just means being okay with not knowing everything. If you can be proud of being a learner rather than being an expert, you’re much safer. A learner can’t be humiliated by a new fact. An expert can.
🔗 Read more: Van Cleef and Arpels Mother of Pearl Earrings: What Most People Get Wrong Before Buying
Third, watch your body language. Seriously. If you find yourself physically looking down at people—literally tilting your chin up so you have to look down your nose—check yourself. Relax your shoulders. Take up space, sure, but don't use your space to crowd others out.
Finally, keep a "wins" journal that focuses on effort. Instead of writing "I won the award," write "I stayed late three nights a week to finish the project, and it felt good to see it through." By focusing on the labor, you nourish the authentic side of pride. This builds a reservoir of self-worth that isn't dependent on being better than the guy in the next cubicle. It’s just about you being better than you were yesterday.
Pride is a tool. Use it to build your self-respect, but don't let it become a weapon you use against yourself or others. When you define pride by your effort and your growth, it becomes a source of strength rather than a fragile ego trap.