The Crucial Difference Between Self-Confidence and Self-Esteem
By Dr Neel Burton — Psychiatrist, philosopher, and wine writer; Fellow of Green Templeton College, University of Oxford; author of over twenty books.
Living up to people’s expectations is a source of anxiety. But meeting those expectations cannot release us from that anxiety—because success achieved in the eyes of others leaves us dependent upon those same eyes.
The problem is not with success itself. Money can buy freedom and security; renown or recognition can create opportunities. But success cannot answer the deeper question: Am I enough?
To understand why, we need to distinguish between self-confidence and self-esteem—two things which are often confused.
Self-Confidence vs Self-Esteem
Self-confidence asks, “Can I do this?” Self-esteem asks, “Am I enough?”
Performing in the world can make us self-confident, while leaving us profoundly insecure as a human. Just think of all those celebrities who can command an audience but then struggle behind the scenes.
When we confuse self-confidence and self-esteem, ability and worth, we begin using achieving to repair self-esteem. Each new achievement brings a bit of relief, but, of course, our list of achievements, or CV, can never be long enough.
This is how ambition becomes a trap. We put our authentic lives on hold and neglect everything that’s important, in the hope that we might finally feel enough. A person can succeed brilliantly at the wrong life.
The Secret to Self-Esteem
Fame and fortune are external goods, and what comes from outside cannot establish our worth. And if this is so, our sense of worth can only come from inside us, from how we live and relate to ourselves.
The answer, then, is not to abandon ambition, but to subordinate it to our values. An ambition works for us when it expresses our values. Whenever we stand for who we are, we become someone we can love and trust. By backing ourselves, we become our best selves.
Outward success can do many things for us—but it cannot make us enough. ‘Enough’ is not a prize awarded by the crowd, but the quiet consequence of living up to our ideals.
The greatest success is to become ourselves—and no longer to need success.
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If you enjoyed this article, you might also enjoy The Art of Failure, an unconventional exploration of success, ambition, happiness, and the good life.
Our highest achievement may not be what we accomplish, but who we become along the way.
By Dr Neel Burton — Psychiatrist, philosopher, and wine writer; Fellow of Green Templeton College, University of Oxford; author of over twenty books.
Essay revised on 22 July 2026.
‘Ambition’ derives from the Latin ambitio, ‘a going around (to solicit votes)’, and, by extension, ‘a striving for honour, recognition, and preferment’. The word originated in the Roman practice of canvassing for political office by going around among citizens and voters.
Ambition might be defined as a striving for some kind of achievement or distinction, and involves, first, the desire for such, and, second, the willingness to work towards it even in the face of adversity or failure. To be ambitious is to achieve first and foremost not for the sake of achievement itself (which is to be high-reaching) but for the sake of distinguishing oneself from others. Were we the last person on earth, it would make little or no sense to be ambitious.
Ambition is often confused with aspiration. But unlike mere aspiration, which has a particular goal for object, ambition is a trait or disposition, and, as such, is persistent and pervasive. Having achieved one goal, the truly ambitious person soon formulates another at which to keep on striving.
Ambition is often spoken of in the same breath as hope, as in ‘hopes and ambitions’. If hope is the desire for something to happen combined with an anticipation of it happening, ambition is the desire for achievement combined with the willingness to work towards it. The opposite of hope is fear, hopelessness, or despair; the opposite of ambition is ‘lack of ambition’, which is not in itself a negative state.
The Ancient Debate
Perhaps it is even the preferable state. In the East, ambition is seen as a vice or evil that, by miring us in worldly pursuits, holds us back from the spiritual life and its fruits of virtue, wisdom, and tranquillity. In the West, in contrast, ambition is lauded as a precondition of success, even though the Western canon broadly falls against it.
For instance, in the Republic, Plato says that, because they are devoid of ambition, good people shun politics, leaving us to be ruled by bad people and their petty ambitions. Even if invited, good people would refuse to rule, preferring instead to hide away in their studies and gardens. To force them out, Plato goes so far as to advocate a penalty for refusing to rule—perhaps something for us to consider in this day and age, if there are still any good people left.
Aristotle had a more nuanced take on ambition. In his Ethics, he defines virtue as a disposition to aim at the intermediate between excess and deficiency, which, unlike either extreme, is a form of success and therefore worthy of praise. Thus, in the sphere of ‘fear and confidence’, those who run headlong into every danger are rash, while those who flee from every danger are cowards, whereas courage lies in the intermediate or mean—the famous ‘golden mean’. Similarly, in the sphere of ‘minor honour and dishonour’, Aristotle names ‘ambition’ as the vicious excess, ‘lack of ambition’ as the vicious deficiency, and ‘proper ambition’ as the mean.
Aristotle’s virtues and vices. In case you’re wondering, the sphere of ‘major honour and dishonour’ concerns not ambition but pride.
To this day, we speak of ambition after Aristotle, as ‘healthy ambition’, ‘unhealthy ambition’, and ‘lack of ambition’. Healthy ambition can be understood as the measured striving for achievement or distinction, and unhealthy ambition as the disordered striving for such. While healthy ambition is constructive and enabling, unhealthy ambition is destructive and inhibiting, and, thus, more akin to greed.
The Psychology of Ambition
The highly ambitious are sensitive to failure, and experience almost constant dissatisfaction or frustration. As with Sisyphus, their task is never accomplished; and, as with Tantalus, their prize is always out of reach. Just as Tantalus had a rock dangling over his head, so the ambitious have the noose of failure hanging about their neck.
The fear of failure checks the ambition of all but the most courageous—or rash—of people. For just as mania can lead into depression, so ambition can lead into anguish and despair. To live with ambition is to live with fear and anxiety, unless, that is, the weight of our ambition can be alleviated by gratitude, which is the feeling of appreciation for all that we already have. Although gratitude is especially lacking in future-focused people, ambition is much less toxic if, even without it, life can still seem worth living.
We are not ambitious unless we are willing to make sacrifices—even though the end of our ambition may not be worth them, and not just because it may never be attained or approached. It could even be argued that, with pure, naked ambition, the end is never worth the sacrifice. Fortunately, ambition is rarely pure but usually admixed with unselfish aims and motives, even if these may be more incidental than deliberate and determining; and it may be that our greatest achievements—indeed, man’s greatest achievements—are all, or almost all, accidents of ambition. Simply put, society will not support our ambitions unless they are prosocial.
In that much, ambition is like the carrot that goads the donkey that pulls the cart. Studies have found that, on average, the ambitious attain higher levels of education and income, build more prestigious careers, and, despite the nocuous effects of their ambition, report higher levels of overall life satisfaction. Owing to bad luck and poor judgement, most ambitious people sooner or later fall short of their ambitions, but that still lands them far ahead of their less ambitious peers.
The Origins of Ambition
Why are some people more ambitious than others? To cut a long story short, ambition is a complex construct born out of a host of factors, including parental role models and expectations, birth order and sibling rivalries, fear of failure and rejection, feelings of inferiority or superiority, intelligence or lack thereof, past achievements, competitiveness, envy, anger, revenge, and the instinctual drives for life and sex.
From a psychoanalytic perspective, ambition can be understood as an ego defence, serving, like all ego defences, to enforce and uphold a certain idea of the self. Rather than ambition, which is a sophisticated defence, those who lack what it takes to put themselves out there are more likely to respond with less mature defences—for instance, by rationalizing that ‘life is unfair’ or that they are ‘less of a leader and more of a team-player’. If their ego is much bigger than their courage, they may become dismissive or even destructive, the latter also being a means of drawing attention or sabotaging themselves to provide a ready excuse for their lack of success: ‘It’s not that I failed, it’s that…’
A defence that merits particular attention in the context of ambition is sublimation, which is among the most mature and successful of all ego defences. If a person feels angry with his boss, he may go home and kick the dog—or he might instead go out for a long run. The first instance (kicking the dog) is an example of displacement, the redirection of uncomfortable feelings towards someone or something less important, which is an immature and destructive ego defence. The second instance (going out for a long run) is an example of sublimation, the channelling of uncomfortable feelings into positive or productive activities.
If someone discovers that she’s been cheated on, she might fly into a rage and cut up all her partner’s clothes—or she might instead write a poem to explore and express how she feels. And if the poem, or the poet, were one day to be remembered, would that not be the sweetest revenge of all?
A third example of sublimation, more pertinent to ambition, is the person with sadistic or homicidal urges who joins the military to provide an outlet for those urges—or who, like Justice Wargrave in Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None, becomes a hanging judge who doles out the death penalty to murderers. In the novel’s postscript, a fishing trawler dredges up a bottle just off the Devon coast. The bottle contains the confession of the late Wargrave, in which he reveals a lifelong sadistic temperament coupled with a fierce sense of justice. Though he had longed to torture, terrify, and kill, he could not bring himself to harm innocent people. So instead, he became a hanging judge and thrilled at the sight of convicted (and guilty) criminals trembling with fear.
Beyond Ambition
In life, few things are either good or bad. Rather, their good and bad depend on what we are able to make out of them. People with a high degree of healthy ambition are those with the insight and strength (strength that is often born out of insight) to control the blind forces of ambition, that is, to shape their ambition so that it matches their interests and ideals, and to harness it so that it fires them without also burning them or those around them.
The purpose of work is not to further our own interests, even if it is only a house in the middle of the woods that we seek, but to help others and move humanity forward—which is, in any case, the best way of furthering ourselves. The highest wisdom, born out of humility, is perhaps that it is not necessary to be ambitious to be high-reaching, or to feel alive. Indeed, it is often our conventional ambitions that are holding us down—even, that are killing us.
People shrink or expand into the degree and nature of their ambitions. Ambition needs to be cultivated and refined, and yet has no teachers.
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If you enjoyed this article, you might also enjoy The Art of Failure, an unconventional exploration of success, ambition, happiness, and the good life.
What the Stoic Seneca Knew About Ambition, Success, and Happiness
King Midas turning a rose to gold.
By Dr Neel Burton — Psychiatrist, philosopher, and wine writer; Fellow of Green Templeton College, University of Oxford; author of over twenty books.
Essay substantially revised on 19 August 2026.
When Dionysus, god of wine, was in Phrygia, his teacher Silenus wandered off drunk and was carried to King Midas. When Dionysus came to collect Silenus, he offered Midas any wish. Midas asked for the power to turn whatever he touched into gold. Before dinner, he had turned every bush in his famed rose garden to gold. But he was horrified when his food and wine also turned to gold. His daughter tried to comfort him, but she too suffered the same fate. When Midas begged to be rescued, Dionysus told him to bathe in the River Pactolus, the golden sands of which later became the source of Croesus’ fabulous wealth.
By confusing means and ends, Midas had made one of today’s commonest mistakes.
The Stoic philosopher Seneca was one of the richest men in the Roman Empire. Having risen from provincial origins to become tutor and chief adviser to the emperor Nero, he spent much of his life thinking about Midas’ mistake—and his own.
To be ambitious is to seek out achievement not for the sake of achievement itself, which is to be high-reaching, but for the sake of distinguishing ourselves from others. Were we the last person on earth, it would make little sense to be ambitious. ‘Ambition, luxury, and caprice need a stage; you will cure them if you keep them from being viewed.’
The dangers of ambition are threefold. First, like Midas, we should be wary of what we wish for. ‘In ordinary speech, we often say that we are overjoyed that one person was elected consul, or that another was married or his wife has given birth, events which, far from being causes of joy, are frequently the beginnings of future sorrow.’ In general, the less we have, the freer, and richer, we are.
Second, ambition is future-focused; to live with ambition is to live in fear and anxiety while discounting the moment that is before us. Because ambition ties us to externals (things that are beyond our control), and, ultimately, to other people, it leaves us subject, and vulnerable, to them. ‘Liberty does not come for free. If you value it highly, you must devalue everything else.’
Third, ambition is often destructive. Great leaders like Caesar, Pompey, and Marius who are driven by ambition are not even in control of themselves, and, as a result, end up doing terrible things: Marius led armies, but ambition led Marius. While these men were whirling down on the entire world, they themselves were in a whirl, just like tornadoes, which spin everything around because they themselves are spinning. No one becomes fortunate at the expense of another’s misfortune.
On Fame and Fortune
The purpose of work is not to further our own interests, even if it is only a house in the middle of the woods that we seek, but to help others and move humanity forward—which is, in any case, the best way of furthering ourselves. The highest wisdom is perhaps that it is not necessary to be ambitious to be high-reaching, or to feel alive. Indeed, it is often our conventional ambitions that are holding us down—even, that are ageing and killing us.
If it is fame that we seek, we will have to adopt the misguided values of the majority. ‘It is by skill in wrongdoing that one cultivates popular acclaim. You must make yourself like them: they will not approve of you unless they recognise you.’
Although we would be foolish to seek out fame, we might nonetheless fall into it by way of our good works, in which case we should utilise it for the greater good.
If it is merely wealth that we seek, we would do well to remember that wealth is not the answer to our problems, since there are many wealthy people who nonetheless feel wretched, and sometimes all the more wretched for being wealthy. Had Cicero had only one house, instead of twenty properties, he would, when exiled, have lost only the one house. And with fewer administrative worries, and less travelling between houses, he might have written more books.
We suppose that wealth increases our pleasures, but the greatest pleasures are in any case simple and easy to obtain if only our mind is open to them: eating, sleeping, bathing, seeing a friend, walking in a beautiful garden. If anything, wealth removes us from our pleasures by habituating us to luxury and shifting our focus onto itself. ‘He enjoys riches most who has least need of riches. While he is thinking about its increase, he is forgetting about its use.’ Midas could possess a golden rose, but he could no longer smell a rose.
On Proper Ends
Even allowing that wealth does increase our pleasures, pleasure is not the be-all and end-all, but, like wealth, distracts from our higher purpose, which is the work of the mind. ‘Maecenas would have provided a fine example of Roman rhetoric, had he not been weakened, even castrated, by his great wealth.’
Just as a horse ought to be judged on its speed rather than its harness, so a man ought to be judged on his mind rather than his property, because it is reason, and not wealth, that is the measure of a man.
Many people have wealth in the same way that people are said to have a fever when it is in fact the fever that has hold of us. If our mind is diseased, what does it matter whether our sickbed is made of wood or gold?
Stoics, by virtue of their virtue, are predisposed to wealth, and, even without seeking it—especially without seeking it—may end up being very wealthy. There is no harm in being wealthy and occasionally enjoying wealth, so long as our money smells good and we are not tied to it.
The real value of money is to buy time for the mind; the real value of fame is to disseminate its fruits. Fame and fortune should never be our masters, but only ever our slaves.
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If this essay spoke to you, you might look into Stoic Stories, an overview of Stoicism through its best stories.
Why the Stoics Believed Success Is Not the Measure of a Good Life
Antoine Bourdelle’s Herakles the Archer (1909) captures the Stoic ideal: complete commitment to the action, complete detachment from the outcome.
By Dr Neel Burton — Psychiatrist, philosopher, and wine writer; Fellow of Green Templeton College, University of Oxford; author of over twenty books.
Essay substantially revised on 12 August 2026.
We tend to measure ourselves by success: the goals we reach, the recognition we receive, the outcomes of our efforts. But for the Stoics, this is precisely where we go wrong. Because the world has a way of foiling even our best-laid plans. The question, then, is this: if success cannot be guaranteed, what should we measure ourselves by?
The Stoics captured this predicament in a simple but timeless image: the archer. The archer does all he can to shoot accurately. But once the arrow leaves the bow, its fate is no longer within the archer’s control.
The lesson is not that the archer should stop caring about the target. It is that the archer should understand where responsibility ends — and peace of mind begins. Behind this distinction lies the deeper Stoic conviction that a good life cannot be measured by outcomes alone.
The Stoic Archer
The allegory of the archer features in On the Ends of Good and Evil, a Socratic dialogue dedicated to Brutus, murderer of Caesar, in which Cicero, through a number of mouthpieces, expounds and critiques the central tenets of the three main philosophies of his day: Stoicism, Epicureanism, and a version of Platonism. Cicero puts the allegory into the mouth of his contemporary and ally, the Stoic statesman Cato the Younger, even though it predates both Cato and Cicero:
Take the case of one whose task it is to shoot a spear or arrow straight at some target. One’s ultimate aim is to do all in one’s power to shoot straight, and the same applies with our ultimate goal. In this kind of example, it is to shoot straight that one must do all one can; none the less, it is to do all one can to accomplish the task that is really the ultimate aim. It is just the same with what we call the supreme good in life. To actually hit the target is, as we say, to be selected but not sought.
The allegory encapsulates the essence of Stoic action. The archer does everything he can to shoot accurately: his bow is well strung, his arrows are carefully calibrated, and he has taken full account of the prevailing wind and other variables. Even so, the arrow may miss the bullseye, or even the target itself. Once it leaves the bow, it is subject to forces beyond the archer’s control — a sudden change in wind, an unexpected movement, or some other contingency.
Similarly, having decided upon the optimal course of action, the good Stoic carries it out to the best of their ability. But whether the enterprise succeeds depends on unpredictable external factors — or, as the Stoics called them, “externals”. Thus, the good Stoic bases self-worth and happiness not on the success of their actions, but on their correctness. The target matters, of course — but it is not what makes the archer a good archer.
Intention Rather Than Outcome
The Stoics were not indifferent to outcomes, but understood that the quality of an action and its result are not the same thing.
In the words of Epictetus:
Some things are up to us and some things are not.
Our judgements, intentions, and choices belong to us. Reputation, success, and the opinions of others do not.
Seneca echoed the same idea:
The wise person considers intention, rather than outcome, in every situation. The beginnings are in our power; the results are judged by fortune, to which I grant no jurisdiction over myself… Death at the hands of a robber is not a condemnation.
This is not quite saying that we must do the right thing, but that the right thing is the most that we can do — and therefore all we need worry about.
The Secret to Stoic Calm
Chance, says Seneca, has a great deal of power in our lives, “necessarily so, since it is by chance that we are alive.” When it comes to things over which we do not have complete control, we play our part and do our best, like the Stoic archer, but we do not fret over the outcome — which, if we have done our best, says nothing about us.
Thus, we seek to be loveable, not to be loved, because the one is within our control whereas the other is not. We seek to write well, not to become a bestselling author, because the one is within our control whereas the other is not. We seek to act with integrity, not to be admired for our integrity, because the one is within our control whereas the other is not.
So long as we focus on the things that are within our control, we will be calm and happy. But if we concern ourselves with things outside our control, we surrender our peace of mind to chance. We become anxious and angry and miserable, and all on false grounds.
The Stoic archer teaches a simple but demanding lesson:
Aim carefully. Do your best. But do not tie yourself to outcomes.
They are none of your business.
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If this essay spoke to you, you might look into Stoic Stories, a comprehensive account of Stoic philosophy presented through its greatest stories.
Self-Esteem vs Self-Confidence: Why Confidence Isn’t Enough
By Dr Neel Burton — Psychiatrist, philosopher, and wine writer; Fellow of Green Templeton College, University of Oxford; author of over twenty books.
Essay substantially revised on 25 July 2026.
Many people spend their lives trying to become more confident. They collect qualifications, promotions, possessions, and achievements, hoping that one more success will finally make them feel good about themselves.
But self-confidence and self-esteem are not the same thing.
Self-Esteem vs Self-Confidence
Confidence derives from the Latin fidere, ‘to trust’. To be self-confident is to trust in oneself and in one’s ability to engage successfully with the world. A self-confident person is able to act on opportunities, rise to challenges, engage with constructive criticism, and shoulder responsibility whenever things go wrong.
If the foundation of successful experience is self-confidence, the foundation of self-confidence is successful experience. However, it is possible to be highly confident in one area, such as dancing or horse riding, while being highly insecure in another, such as public speaking or dating.
In the absence of confidence, courage takes over. If confidence operates in the realm of the known, courage operates in that of the unknown, the uncertain, and the fearsome. I could not have become a confident swimmer had I not once had the courage to lose my footing in deep water.
Courage is more noble than confidence, because it requires greater strength and effort, and because a courageous person is one with limitless possibilities.
Self-confidence and self-esteem often go hand in hand, but are not one and the same thing. Confidence answers the question, ‘Can I do this?’ Self-esteem answers a different question: ‘What sort of person am I?’
It is perfectly possible to be highly self-confident and yet to have low self-esteem, as is the case with many performers and celebrities who are able to play to the gallery but then struggle behind the scenes.
Self-Esteem
Esteem derives from the Latin aestimare, ‘to appraise, value, or weigh’. Self-esteem is our cognitive and, above all, emotional appraisal of our own worth. More than that, it is the matrix through which we think, feel, and act, and reflects and determines our relation to ourself, to others, and to the world—enabling us, for example, to feel guilt over shame, or emulation over envy.
People with healthy self-esteem do not need to prop themselves up with externals such as income, status, or notoriety, or lean on crutches such as alcohol, drugs, or sex (when these things are a crutch). On the contrary, they treat themselves with respect and look after their health, community, and environment. They are able to invest themselves completely in projects and people because they have no irrational fear of failure or rejection. Of course, they suffer hurt and disappointment, but their setbacks neither damage nor diminish them. Owing to their resilience, they are open to people and possibilities, tolerant of risk, quick to joy and delight, and accepting and forgiving of others and themselves.
My own view is that we are all born with a healthy self-esteem, which is then either reinforced or undermined by our life experiences. No animal is born fundamentally doubting or disliking itself. Low self-esteem is often rooted in childhood traumas such as prolonged separation from parental figures, neglect, or abuse. In later life, self-esteem can be compromised by ill health, negative life events such as divorce or unemployment, dysfunctional relationships, social isolation or discrimination, and a sense of lack of control.
The relationship between low self-esteem and mental disorder is complex. Low self-esteem predisposes to mental disorder, which in turn knocks self-esteem. At the same time, low self-esteem can also be a symptom of mental disorder—giving rise to a chicken-and-egg situation.
The Secret to Self-Esteem
If self-esteem can be compromised, it can also be rebuilt. But many people go about it the wrong way. They conflate self-esteem with self-confidence and end up with a long list of talents and achievements. Rather than facing up to the real issues, they hide, often their whole life long, behind their certificates and prizes. But that is no substitute for a healthy self-esteem. While they work on their list in the hope that it might one day be long enough, they seek to fill the emptiness inside them with externals such as status, income, and notoriety.
Similarly, it is no use trying to pump up children with empty, undeserved praise. The kids are unlikely to be fooled, but may instead be held back from the sort of endeavour by which real self-esteem can grow.
Whenever we live up to our dreams and promises, we can feel ourselves growing. Whenever we fail but know that we have given it our best, we can feel ourselves growing. Whenever we stand up for our values and face the consequences, we can feel ourselves growing.
This is what growth depends on. Growth depends on living up to our ideals, not our parents’ aspirations, nor our employer’s values or targets, nor anything else that is not truly our own but, instead, a betrayal of ourselves.
The foundation of self-esteem is not success, but self-respect. In the end, each of us must become someone we can live with, someone whose own opinion matters most.
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