We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be. — Kurt Vonnegut
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
Why might this line matter today, not tomorrow?
A Warning Disguised as a Witty Line
Vonnegut’s sentence reads like a clever aphorism, yet it carries the weight of an ethical warning: the roles we “try on” are not neutral. At first glance, pretending sounds temporary—an act we can remove at will—but he suggests the opposite, that repeated performance hardens into identity. This is why the second clause matters more than the first. If pretending becomes being, then even playful masks can turn into permanent faces, and carelessness about what we imitate can quietly steer our character in directions we never consciously chose.
How Habits Turn Acts into Identity
Moving from the quote’s caution to its mechanism, the bridge is habit. What begins as a chosen behavior—speaking confidently, acting cynical, performing kindness for approval—can become automatic through repetition, until it feels like “who I am.” In that sense, pretending is less like lying and more like practice. Aristotle’s *Nicomachean Ethics* (4th century BC) captures this logic with the idea that virtues are formed by repeated actions: we become just by doing just acts. Vonnegut flips that insight into a modern admonition—rehearse a persona long enough, and it won’t remain a costume.
Social Roles and the Masks We Learn
From personal habit, it naturally expands into social life, where pretending is often rewarded. Workplaces, families, and online spaces all come with scripts, and people learn which performances receive safety, status, or affection. Over time, the “role” can swallow the person, making it hard to tell where adaptation ends and self begins. Erving Goffman’s *The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life* (1956) describes daily interaction as a kind of theater, where we manage impressions in front of different audiences. Vonnegut’s line adds a moral edge to that sociology: impression management isn’t just strategic—it can be formative.
The Quiet Drift of Self-Deception
Next comes the most unsettling implication: pretending can change not only how others see us, but how we see ourselves. A person who “pretends” not to care may eventually blunt their capacity for care; someone who performs superiority may start believing they are entitled. The danger isn’t simply hypocrisy—it’s the gradual internalization of a convenient story. This resembles what psychology calls cognitive dissonance reduction: when actions and beliefs conflict, people often adjust beliefs to match actions to restore coherence. In that way, a performance can become a conviction, and the pretense can recruit the mind into defending it.
The Digital Age: Identity by Repetition
From there, it’s hard not to see how the quote intensifies in online life. Profiles, posts, and curated images invite people to select a marketable self, then reinforce it through feedback loops—likes, comments, attention, outrage. Even if the persona starts as branding, its constant repetition can narrow a person’s emotional range and choices. Over time, the performance can feel safer than spontaneity, because it has proof of approval. Vonnegut’s warning lands sharply here: if we build a self out of what gets rewarded, we may wake up inside an identity optimized for attention rather than truth.
Choosing Pretenses That Grow the Best in Us
Finally, Vonnegut’s line isn’t a call to stop pretending; it’s a call to pretend deliberately. Since performance shapes being, we can treat our daily actions as votes for the kind of person we want to become—practicing patience, honesty, courage, or generosity even before they feel natural. This reframes the quote as practical guidance: act like the person you respect, and let consistency do the rest. In other words, be careful not because pretending is inherently false, but because it is powerful—one of the most reliable ways a human being becomes real.