★ The LaSallian

Tagging the truth to self-labeling

Personality labels give us belonging and self-understanding, but when do they stop helping us make sense of ourselves and start telling us who we are?

Personality-based content has pervaded various spheres of the internet. It is difficult not to get caught in the billows of each emerging wave of personally branded media, projective tests, and personality assessments that place a spotlight on the quirks of our identities. 

However, these individually driven mediums for illustrating one’s character predate the magnetism of digitally categorized personalities. Astrology, Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) types, and blood types have long existed before the ease of disseminating these modern typologies, all paving the way for a persistent culture of boxing oneself into pre-established archetypes. 

The allure of these typologies or divination systems comes not from their mystical ability to read individuals with enchanting accuracy and hyperspecificity, but from their ubiquity, compartmentalizing nuanced qualities into generalizable traits that each person can relate to. 

For some, the easiest way to self-identify is through rigid boxes.

An all-encompassing umbrella

To understand why such labels have a universal influence, Dr. Shayne Polias, Assistant Professor and Graduate Program Coordinator in the Department of Psychology, draws a careful line between two aspects of the “self” that are often treated the same. 

Self-awareness is “more of having an inward understanding of oneself,” while self-categorization is simply assigning yourself to a label, she explains. Polias shares that this inclination to self-label using these typologies is driven by an individual’s need to search for “who they really are.” If a person lacks a concrete sense of self, they begin searching for one and adopt a label that helps establish their identity, despite not fully fitting into these pigeonhole personalities. 

“We tend to [fit] ourselves into certain [boxes] or personalities because that’s what’s being said in the horoscope, MBTI, or other categories that exist now.” Polias emphasizes how individuals succumb to “self-fulfilling prophecies” in order to match these rigid categories they assign themselves to. Although these allow individuals to experience a feeling of belongingness with their peers and outer social circles, it increases the susceptibility to developing stringent and inflexible mindsets or perspectives, limiting oneself to only act in accordance with their self-label and hindering possibilities for growth and change. 

This phenomenon reflects German-American psychoanalyst Erik Erikson’s identity theory, Polias imparts. It proposes that our sense of self is molded by the presence of our social relationships. For as long as these self-categorizations are broadcast and endorsed by the larger population on the internet as a social currency, feelings of self-alienation and identity confusion will remain as fuel for an insular cycle that promotes conformity in the guise of pre-packaged individualism. 

The comfort of belonging

The reason a vague personality blurb can feel eerily accurate has a name: the Barnum effect, also referred to as the Forer effect, after psychologist Bertram Forer. This effect explains why horoscopes and online personality quizzes feel convincing, particularly when the statements are broad, flattering, and delivered with an air of authority. Forer demonstrated the effect in a 1948 classroom experiment, where he gave students personality profiles they had to rate for accuracy, only to later reveal that all students had received identical text in the profiles.

Polias described this dynamic in her own words. “We have cognitive biases that we [believe] just because we have [a certain] label, it is unique to us, not knowing that other people may also have that same kind of description.” Once a description confirms our biases, people stop questioning it and start living it out, with our confirmation bias filtering out whatever doesn’t fit and spotlighting whatever does. 

Over time, the labels begin to feel increasingly accurate, not necessarily because they reflect who we are, but because we have learned to see ourselves in them. What started as simple traits became a lens through which we interpret our own behaviors and experiences.

Personality labels extend beyond understanding oneself. Labels such as MBTI types or zodiac signs provide an immediate sense of community that allows individuals to identify with those who share the same sentiments and experiences while distinguishing themselves from those who do not. Polias relates this to the social identity theory, explaining that people seek labels because “many or most of us need validation.” 

In online spaces where identity is often reduced to a short bio or a curated profile, these labels become more than descriptors of personality—hey become quick social signals of belonging.

Navigating the double-edge

Polias’s answer captured the tension of the final question: whether these labels deepen self-understanding or simply confine us to a fixed identity. Labels can become a compass that guides an individual, because drifting from your “type” can initiate a return to a “baseline self.” Finding others who share the same label can be validating, easing the isolation of not yet fully knowing who you are. The danger creeps in when a label stops being a description and starts being a script. 

“Because we self-label, we have a constructed view of ourselves,” Polias shares. However, in extreme cases, this wish to belong can make people more susceptible to manipulation. From marketing that repackages self-care as an excuse to overspend, to cultish communities that exploit someone’s need to belong, people can become rigid and intransigent, clinging to a category after it stops fitting, because changing course would feel like abandoning an identity they’ve already built. 

Nevertheless, none of this makes labels inherently harmful. The concern is what happens when a label without scientific grounding gets treated as fact rather than a placeholder for reflection. The healthiest version of this phenomenon might not be finding the perfect four-letter type, but instead treating every label as a rough draft of a person still being written.