The Willpower Instinct: How Self-Control Works, Why It Matters, and What You Can Do To Get More of It

FROM SAINTS TO SINNERS
I’d like you to rate the following statements on a scale of strongly disagree, somewhat disagree,
somewhat agree, and strongly agree. First up: 
Most women are not really smart.
And what about:
Most women are better suited to stay at home taking care of the children than to work.
Now imagine you’ve asked these questions to Princeton University undergraduates. If you’re lucky,
the female students won’t tell you to shove your survey up your asinine assumptions. Even the male
students will reject these sexist statements. But what if you had asked them instead to rate slightly
different statements: 
Some women are not really smart,
and 
Some women are better suited to stay at
home taking care of the children.
It’s not so easy to reject these statements. They might seem a little
sexist, but it’s hard to argue with “some.”
These surveys were part of a study by psychologists Benoît Monin and Dale Miller, who were
investigating stereotypes and decision making. As you might predict, Princeton students who were
asked to rate the first two statements were quick to denounce them. But students who were asked to
rate the qualified “
some
women” statements were more neutral on the matter.
After rating the statements, the students were asked to make a decision in a hypothetical hiring
situation. Their assignment was to assess the suitability of several candidates—male and female—for
a high-level job in a stereotypically male-dominated industry like construction or finance. This seems
like a straightforward task, especially for the students who had just rejected sexist statements. Surely
they would not discriminate against a qualified woman. But the Princeton researchers found exactly
the opposite. The students who had strongly disagreed with the obviously sexist statements were more
likely to favor a man for the job than the students who had somewhat reluctantly agreed with the less
sexist “some women” statements. The same pattern emerged when the researchers asked students
about racist attitudes and then gave them an opportunity to discriminate against racial minorities.
These studies shocked a lot of people. Psychologists had long assumed that once you expressed an
attitude, you would be likely to act in line with it. After all, who wants to feel like a hypocrite? But
the Princeton psychologists had uncovered the exception to our usual desire to be consistent. When it
comes to right and wrong, most of us are not striving for moral perfection. We just want to feel good
enough—which then gives us permission to do whatever we want.
The students who had rejected obviously sexist or racist statements felt they had established their
moral credentials. They had proven to themselves that they were not sexist or racist, but this left them
vulnerable to what psychologists call 
moral licensing
. When you do something good, you feel good
about yourself. This means you’re more likely to trust your impulses—which often means giving
yourself permission to do something bad. In this case, the students felt so good about themselves for
rejecting the sexist and racist statements, they became less vigilant about making a sexist or racist
decision. They were more likely to listen to an instinctive bias and less likely to consider whether a
decision was consistent with their broader goal to be fair. It wasn’t that they wanted to discriminate
—they simply let the glow of their earlier good behavior blind them to the harm of their decisions.
Moral licensing doesn’t just give us permission to do something bad; it also lets us off the hook
when we’re asked to do something good. For example, people who first remember a time when they
acted generously give 60 percent less money to a charitable request than people who have not just
recalled a past good deed. In a business simulation, managers of a manufacturing plant are less likely
to take costly measures to reduce the plant’s pollution if they have recently recalled a time when they

---

acted ethically.
The moral licensing effect might explain why some people who have obvious moral credentials—a
minister, a family values politician, an attorney general prosecuting corruption—can justify to
themselves some serious moral lapses, whether it’s the married televangelist having sex with his
secretary, the fiscal conservative using public funds to remodel his home, or the police officer using
extreme force against a nonresisting criminal. Most people don’t question their impulses when they’re
feeling virtuous, and some people’s positions permanently remind them of their virtue.
Why are we suddenly talking about discrimination and sex scandals instead of dieting and
procrastination? Because what is a willpower challenge if not a battle between virtue and vice?
Anything you moralize becomes fair game for the effect of moral licensing. If you tell yourself that
you’re “good” when you exercise and “bad” when you don’t, then you’re more likely to skip the gym
tomorrow if you work out today. Tell yourself you’re “good” for working on an important project and
“bad” for procrastinating, and you’re more likely to slack off in the afternoon if you made progress in
the morning. Simply put: Whenever we have conflicting desires, being good gives us permission to be
a little bit bad.
Importantly, this is not just a matter of running out of blood sugar or willpower. When
psychologists ask people about their licensed indulgences, the indulgers report feeling in control of
their choices, not out of control. They also don’t feel guilty. Instead, they report feeling proud of
themselves for earning a reward. They offer the justification, “I was so good, I deserve a little treat.”
This sense of entitlement too often becomes our downfall. Because we’re quick to view self-
indulgence as the best reward for virtue, we forget our real goals and give in to temptation.

---