Why We Still Seek Approval When We No Longer Need It

I have seen senior executives who can reject a ₹50-crore proposal without blinking become visibly unsettled by a lukewarm comment on LinkedIn. It is a useful reminder that status in one room does not immunise us from wanting approval in another.

Human beings are social animals in the least poetic sense of the term. For most of our history, belonging was not a lifestyle preference. Exclusion could reduce access to protection, food, mates and information. Sensitivity to what others think is therefore not merely vanity. It has deep social utility.

The modern world has changed the setting but not eliminated the mechanism. Today the tribe may be a professional network, a family WhatsApp group, an alumni circle or five hundred people who follow us online. We still scan for signals: Did they respond? Was I invited? Did they notice? Why did everyone congratulate him and not me?

Approval is especially sticky because it is intermittent. A compliment arrives unpredictably. A post performs unexpectedly well. Someone important remembers our name. Variable rewards are psychologically powerful because they keep attention engaged. Social media industrialised a mechanism that existed long before smartphones.

There is also a subtler form of approval seeking: editing ourselves before anyone has objected. We do not say the unpopular thing. We buy what signals the right taste. We avoid trying something because failure will be visible. At that point approval is not simply something we enjoy receiving; it becomes an invisible architect of behaviour.

Age and success do not automatically solve this. In fact, status can make approval more complicated because there is more identity to protect. A person who has become 'successful' may fear looking foolish more than someone who has little reputation at stake. The result can be caution masquerading as maturity.

The goal is not to become indifferent to other people. That would be socially clumsy and psychologically unrealistic. A better distinction is between useful feedback and emotional permission. Feedback helps us adjust. Permission means we cannot move until others approve.

A useful test is simple: if nobody could see this decision, would I still make it? The answer is not always comfortable. But it can reveal how much of our life is being lived from the inside—and how much is being performed for an audience that may not be paying nearly as much attention as we imagine.