Back in the ‘60s, a psychiatrist by the name of Thomas Harris wrote the best seller “I’m OK — You’re OK.”

By the’70s and my first steps into the profession of psychology, his book had achieved widespread acclaim and impact.

The simplicity and practicality of “I’m OK — You’re OK” helped millions to find a better way.

Remarkably, some 50 years later, Dr. Harris’s communiqué continues to echo. I

In today’s troubled world of misguided wokeness and social disunity, his insights have an even greater application than when he first put his thoughts to paper.With your permission, I’m going to borrow three “I’m OK — You’re OK” insights that have fitting navigational impact for the confused waters of 21st century America.  

Who’s OK?

It was Dr. Harris’s suggestion that we each face four choices on how we approach our fellow man: â€œI’m OK — You’re not OK” sets the table for the many who find comfort in the artificial notion that we’re good — and those other guys aren’t.

Maturely evaluating the merits of others' behaviors through objective discernment is a crucial life skill.

Enthusiastic judgment, condemnation and personal attacks puts us in the company of children.

“I’m not OK — You’re OK” is the script of those with a broken sense of self-worth.

To inflate the value of others while denouncing ourselves is to strangle personal hope and potential.

Self-loathing has more in common with abuse than humility – we can believe in our merit without becoming arrogant or self-centered.

“I’m not OK — You’re not OK” is the worst of all worlds whereby we cynically dislike ourselves and others.

This life script is the lazy sanctuary of folks who find it easier to sit down in gloom and doom than to lift their head and struggle toward the light.

“I’m OK — You’re OK” is where life finds its most meaningful traction. Having a positive sense of self, standing for what we believe in, resisting wrongs, and continuing to love our fellow man though we may stand in disagreement is as good as it gets. 

Three hands on the wheel

Another Dr. Harris goodie is the observation we have three inner voices that compete for control – our Parent, Adult, and Child. These three make an interesting team.

The Parent voice serves as a protector and conscience. Too loud and we tend to live in fear and worry. Too quiet and we tend to live selfishly and precariously. Just right helps us keep our hands on the wheel and moving forward constructively.

Our Adult voice is the part of us that evaluates, reasons, and learns. Humans are at the top of the food chain in terms of these gifts. As one can readily observe, having access to a resource and using it wisely are not the same thing.

The Child voice is the part of us that senses and feels. It likes for us to experience life and have fun – sometimes too much fun. An overactive Child can lead to impulsivity, addictive behaviors, and a failure to mature. Underactive can have us feeling flat and numb.Dr. Harris would suggest that the best life course finds us intentionally applying our Parent, Adult, and Child in united, positive, and balanced fashion. 

Our childhood sets the table

Dr. Harris believed that childhood experiences are profoundly influential and — good or bad — have lifetime impact.

Our job as individuals is to build on the good experiences and work through the not-so-good. Everyone’s palette has different colors added during childhood – the responsibility to paint something good with those colors is universal.

Our job as parents is thus to intentionally work to make sure that we do the best we can to prepare our children for the real world. Love, a positive value system, good role models, and success opportunities lead the way with this mission. 

Practical value?

“I’m OK — You’re OK” is not a bad roadmap for traveling through life safely and effectively.

When it comes to politics, Dr. Harris would likely suggest that far too many people run on an “I’m OK - you’re not OK” model while letting their impulsive and self-serving inner child trick adult reason and conscience.

Why we do so, in many cases, can be tracked to childhoods that didn’t prepare us for the real world. When we don’t know how to live in the real world, destroying that world represents an attractive temptation – especially when we’re convinced that out of the ashes, we can create a better one.History tells us that most of the good things in life come from work and evolution, not fantasy and revolution.

Blowing things up rarely produces good things.