Two years ago it was my great privilege and honor to serve as a resource person for a grant-funded project being hosted by the Center for Pastor Theologians. The grant involved engaging with the empirical research in the social sciences about virtue to bring that science into conversation with theological and pastoral reflection. I served as the social scientist resource person for conversations about three virtues, love, hope, and humility. Part 2 of The Shape of Joy, where share my "hexagon tour of ego" made its first appearance with the CPT. But in this series I want to talk about my presentation on hope.
In preparing for my presentation on hope I quickly ran into the epistemological divide that separates psychology and theology. At the end of the day, hope is circumscribed by your ontology. What is the nature of reality, the whole of it? Your answer to that question determines the horizon of your hope. Psychology, as an empirical science, restricts itself to material phenomena, at least as a methodological assumption. Consequently, psychology struggles to describe or account for resources of hope that fall outside the material realm. God, for example. To see this, let's take a look at the dominant paradigm in psychology regarding hope, C.R. Synder's hope theory.
Snyder articulated his theory of hope in 1991. In that seminal article, Snyder offered this definition of hope:
“Hope is a positive motivational state that is based on an interactively derived sense of successful (a) agency (goal-directed energy), and (b) pathways (planning to meet goals)”
The first thing to note is that hope is a motivation, something that moves us toward a goal. This should be obvious as feeling hopeless is characterized by a lack of motivation. We lose our future-orientation and stop pursuing our goals. "What's the point?" we say to ourselves in a hopeless state.
The big part of Snyder's theory concerns how pathway and agency attributions relate to hope.
Pathway attributions concern perceived routes toward our goals. Can we see a viable and realistic pathway from where I stand to where I want to be? If I can, that increases hope. If, however, I can't see a pathway, then hope diminishes. I see no way to get from A to Z.
Agency attributions concern my self-confidence and self-efficacy to walk the pathway. I might, for example, see a path but lack confidence in my ability to achieve the goal. Here's a simple example. A student comes to me asking if there is any chance (hope) of getting an A my class. I say, "Yes. If you get an 98% of the final exam you'll get an A." So, that's a pathway. A legitimate route to the goal. But the student might lack the agency attribution needed for high hope, saying to themselves, "I'll never be able to get a 98%." To stay with the example, another student might come to me and ask if there is any chance of getting an A. This student is very high ability so their agency attributions are high. They believe, rightly so, that they can ace the final. However, I say to this student, "I'm sorry, but there's no mathematical possibility, given your current grades, of you getting an A in this class." So, agency can be high but no pathway possible.
You get the point. According to Synder's hope theory, hope is comprised of pathway and agency attributions. Is there a realistic and viable pathway toward my goal? And am I confident that I have the capacities and resources to walk that path? If the answer is "yes" to both of those questions, I have hope. But if one or both of the answers are "no" then hope diminishes.
Since Snyder introduced his theory in 1991 it has gone on to garner an impressive empirical record. Hope, as described by Snyder, is associated with all sorts of positive outcomes. High hope people thrive. And low hope people struggle. Snyder's theory is also very practical. If you want to instill hope in people help them envision pathways, along with generating alternative pathways if they run into obstacles or setbacks. This ability, to keep finding routes toward your goals, is a vital capacity. Relatedly, we can support and rehabilitate an individual's sense of agency and empowerment. "You got this!" "You can do this!" From parenting to coaching to mentoring to social support to therapy, improving agency kindles a capacity for hope.
And yet, as powerful as Snyder's hope theory is, it doesn't easily or comprehensively describe hope in the context of faith. In the posts to follow I'll describe some of the contrasts between psychological hope and Christian hope.
I research hope and climate in the context of congregations as part of my work. Snyder's hope theory comes up in questions about climate communication, but is used as just one of a broader, often contradictory array of frameworks that lie behind the term "hope".
In my experience, it's important to note how much western ideas of power and agency get tied up in the term hope. Hope is often conflated with the optimism: the belief that future issues will "work themselves out". (Optimism actually decreases engagement with climate.) Hope is also often conflated with a future-focused orientation, (e.g. the ability to secure a desired future), which is based frequently on an assumption of unlimited agency to secure the future we want (something which post-colonial scholars point out is part of the colonizing mindset.)
Snyder's definition does not have to be optimistic or future-focused. A sense of agency and pathways can also be about our perceived ability to practice our values with joy and integrity regardless of external circumstances. This is also the type of hope I frequently encounter more in historically marginalized communities, for whom hope has never been able to based on a future outcome. I also hypothesize it's the type of hope that is best able to engage with the challenges we face today (e.g. climate, facism, etc.) that we may not have the power to simply "solve".
At 100 Japan scores the most Long Term Orientation oriented societies. Japanese see their life as a very short moment in the long history of mankind. From this perspective, some kind of fatalism is not strange to the Japanese. You do your best in your lifetime and that is all that you can do. The notion of the one and only almighty God is not familiar to the Japanese. People live their lives guided by virtues and practical good examples. In corporate Japan, you see long-term orientation in the constantly high rate of investment in R[&]D even in economically difficult times, higher own capital rate, priority to steady growth of market share rather than to a quarterly profit, and so on. They all serve the durability of the companies. The idea behind it is that the companies are not here to make money every quarter for the shareholders but to serve the stakeholders and society at large for many generations to come (e.g. Matsuhista).
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