EXCERPT Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) — Walt Whitman, Song of Myself There is something undeniably irritating about the above verse, so often quoted by those wishing to excuse contradictions evident in their statements or behaviour, as if permitting themselves and anyone within earshot a little measure of hypocrisy, as a treat. There are plenty who take this gesture even further, seeking not just to admit but to valorise personal fragmentation, abjuring consistency as an unnecessary imposition upon our natural multiplicity.1 But there is equally something undeniably true in Whitman’s words. We human beings are inherently manifold. More than a variety of physical parts, we bundle together a host of distinct psychic features—beliefs and desires, reflexes and drives, quirks and aspirations—each capable of conflicting with the others and all in need of regulation, lest these conflicts grow great enough to tear us apart, dispelling any apparent unity. Yet beyond this collection of subpersonal components, we also display various personal aspects, almost as if we were different people in differing contexts—a gentle parent at home, a stern boss in the office, an inveterate joker down the pub. These shifting personae seem coherent enough in context, but can be jarring when compared. And yet many of us slip from one to another without so much as a second thought, becoming the person that is needed in the moment, as if taking on a role in some unwritten play.…