All posts by Scott Allison

About Scott Allison

Scott Allison has authored numerous books, including 'Heroes' and 'Heroic Leadership'. He is Professor of Psychology at the University of Richmond where he has published extensively on heroism and leadership. His other books include Reel Heroes, Conceptions of Leadership, Frontiers in Spiritual Leadership, and the Handbook of Heroism. His work has appeared in USA Today, National Public Radio, the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, Slate Magazine, MSNBC, CBS, Psychology Today, and the Christian Science Monitor. He has received Richmond's Distinguished Educator Award and the Virginia Council of Higher Education's Outstanding Faculty Award.

The Hidden Heroism of Human Movement

Commentary and Analysis, , ,

By Scott T. Allison

When we think about intelligence, we usually think about the mind. Intelligence is commonly associated with reasoning, memory, language, creativity, or emotional awareness. Yet one of the oldest and most powerful forms of human intelligence may reside not in words or abstract thought, but in movement itself.

Long before human beings developed spoken language, our ancestors communicated through posture, gesture, rhythm, pacing, and spatial orientation. A sudden movement could warn of danger. A calm posture could reassure others. A coordinated group movement could signal trust, unity, and shared purpose. Human beings moved meaningfully before they spoke meaningfully.

My colleague George Goethals and I use the term Motional Intelligence (MI) to describe this overlooked dimension of social life. MI refers to the ability to use body movement intentionally to influence others, to accurately interpret the movements of other people, and to regulate one’s own bodily behavior in response to changing social situations. In short, MI is the intelligence of movement in human interaction.

This idea differs from emotional intelligence, which focuses primarily on recognizing and managing emotions. MI centers on the moving body itself—on posture, gesture, timing, rhythm, stillness, synchrony, and physical presence. It asks how movement shapes perception, connection, influence, and social meaning.

Once you begin paying attention to MI, you see it everywhere.

Think about how quickly we form impressions of people. Before anyone says a word, we often sense whether someone appears confident, anxious, trustworthy, dominant, warm, awkward, or emotionally withdrawn. We infer these qualities from movement: how a person enters a room, occupies space, approaches others, or carries themselves physically. Human beings constantly read one another through motion, often unconsciously.

Heroism itself may depend heavily on MI. Before people are recognized as heroes, they are often first perceived as calm under pressure, physically decisive, emotionally grounded, or capable of stepping forward when others hesitate. Movement frequently serves as the first visible signal of courage and agency.

Film offers striking examples. Some of cinema’s most memorable characters communicate more through movement than dialogue. Charlie Chaplin’s Tramp expresses vulnerability and compassion almost entirely through physical timing and gesture. Humphrey Bogart’s Rick Blaine in Casablanca projects emotional restraint through stillness and minimal movement. Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight unsettles viewers through erratic pacing, invasive proximity, and unpredictable bodily rhythms. Their movements communicate psychological depth before words ever do.

Politics and leadership reveal similar dynamics. During the 2016 U.S. presidential debates, one of the most memorable moments involved not policy but movement. Donald Trump paced closely behind Hillary Clinton while she spoke, and viewers interpreted the same physical behavior in dramatically different ways—some seeing dominance and confidence, others perceiving intimidation and intrusion. The moment illustrated how bodily motion can shape emotional climates and public interpretation as powerfully as spoken language.

But MI is not limited to leaders, actors, or charismatic personalities. It permeates everyday life. Long-married couples often move in subtle synchrony, anticipating each other’s actions almost unconsciously. Friends walking together gradually align their pace. Parents instinctively soothe distressed children through rhythmic rocking and calming physical presence. Human relationships are constantly choreographed through movement.

Importantly, MI is probably not a fixed talent reserved for a gifted few. Like many forms of intelligence, it can likely be strengthened through awareness and practice. People can learn to become more attentive to bodily signals, more skillful in regulating tension through posture and pacing, and more accurate in interpreting the movements of others.

In an increasingly digital world, this may matter more than ever. Texting, email, and online communication strip away much of the movement information our brains evolved to process. Yet even advanced technologies—from virtual reality to social robotics—are discovering that believable movement remains essential to creating trust, connection, and emotional realism.

Perhaps this is the deeper lesson of motional intelligence: human beings do not merely think and speak their way through social life. We move our way through it. And learning to move with greater awareness, empathy, and responsibility may become one of the most important human capacities of the future.

References

Allison, S. T., & Goethals, G. R. (2026). Motional intelligence: The power of movement in leadership. Emerald.

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The Missing Story: Why We Still Need a Shared Hero Narrative

Commentary and Analysis, , ,

By Scott T. Allison

If you step back and look at modern life, something feels off. We are more connected than ever, yet less unified. Stories surround us—streaming endlessly across screens—yet the kinds of shared narratives that once brought people together seem harder to find .

So what changed?

To be sure, no society has ever been perfectly unified. People have always disagreed, and cultures have always contained competing ideas. But many earlier societies did share broad narrative frameworks—religious, moral, and mythological—that helped people make sense of life.

These stories provided a kind of common language, helping answer enduring questions: Who are we? What matters? How should we live?

Over time, scholars have argued that this shared narrative ground has weakened. The sociologist Émile Durkheim warned that modern societies risk falling into anomie when shared values erode. Max Weber described an “age of disenchantment,” where scientific rationality strips the world of mystery and meaning. More recently, thinkers like Charles Taylor have suggested that while people still search for purpose, they often do so alone, without a shared framework to guide them.

But the problem is not that we lack stories. In fact, we are surrounded by them—superheroes, political identities, cultural narratives, and personal stories shaped online. The real issue is fragmentation. We have many stories, but fewer that we hold in common.

That distinction matters.

In earlier cultures, shared myths often acted as social glue. They offered not just entertainment, but a sense of belonging and direction—a narrative map of human experience. Today, that map is harder to locate.

This is where Joseph Campbell’s work becomes especially relevant. After studying myths across cultures, Campbell identified a recurring pattern he called the Hero’s Journey. In this story, an ordinary person is called to adventure, faces challenges, grows through struggle, and returns to serve others.

Campbell believed this pattern resonates because it reflects something fundamental about being human: we all face obstacles, we all change, and we all have the potential to contribute.

Of course, not every culture fits neatly into this framework. Some traditions emphasize community over individual heroes, or cyclical rather than linear stories. But even with these differences, the Hero’s Journey captures a widely recognizable pattern—one that continues to show up across time and place.

So what role might it play today?

While we may no longer share a single mythology, we can still share a common structure of meaning. The Hero’s Journey doesn’t tell us what to believe. Instead, it offers a flexible framework for understanding how growth unfolds—through challenge, courage, and transformation.

In that sense, it can serve as a kind of shared narrative grammar in a diverse world. Without something like this, it becomes harder to talk about purpose, growth, and responsibility. We risk living in separate narrative worlds, each with its own logic and values.

The Hero’s Journey offers a bridge.

It reminds us that struggle is part of life, that growth requires stepping into uncertainty, and that our journeys are not just about ourselves. At its best, it is not a story of personal triumph alone, but of return—of using what we’ve gained to help others.

This is where the idea becomes practical.

We can introduce the Hero’s Journey at home, helping children see challenges as opportunities for growth. Schools can use it to support resilience and identity development. Faith communities can connect it to traditions of transformation and service. Even organizations can use it to frame leadership and purpose.

This is not about imposing a single worldview. It is about offering a shared lens—one that is flexible enough to include many perspectives, yet structured enough to create common ground.

Because beneath our differences, we all face moments that call us forward—moments that ask us to grow, to act, and to contribute.

Perhaps myths have not disappeared. Perhaps we have simply lost sight of the patterns that still connect us.

The Hero’s Journey reminds us that even in a fragmented world, there remains a shared rhythm to human life: challenge, transformation, and return. It is not the only story we need—but it may be one of the few that can still bring us together.

And in a divided world, that may matter more than ever.

References

Allison, S. T. (2024). Hero Monomyth. In S. T. Allison, J. K. Beggan, and G. R. Goethals (Eds.), Encyclopedia of Heroism Studies. Springer.

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Our New Book — Everyday Heroism: Courage, Compassion and the Power to Change the World

Commentary and Analysis,

By Scott T. Allison

I’ve spent the past year co‑editing a new academic volume called Everyday Heroism: Courage, Compassion and the Power to Change the World, soon to be published by Cambridge Scholars. It’s been loads of fun working with my two co-editors Joanna Pascoe and Theresa Thorhildsen — both of these colleagues also happen to co-edit the Heroism Science journal with me.

Somewhere along the way I realized that this new Everyday Heroism book addresses something I’ve been circling for years: the idea that heroism isn’t a rare, cinematic event but a daily practice—quiet, improvised, and often unnoticed. The contributors to this volume come from psychology, education, and literary studies, and they all converge on a simple but powerful insight: ordinary people routinely meet challenge, risk, and uncertainty with courage and care. We just don’t always recognize it as heroism.

One of the joys of working on this book has been seeing how differently scholars and practitioners approach the same core question: How does heroic action emerge in everyday life? Some look to classrooms, where teachers model moral courage in the small decisions that shape a child’s sense of safety and possibility. Others turn to community settings, where people respond to adversity not with grand gestures but with steady, prosocial action—checking on a neighbor, stepping into a conflict, or offering support when it’s least convenient. Still others examine the stories we tell in literature and popular media, tracing how cultural narratives shape our sense of what courage looks like and who gets to be seen as a hero.

The book doesn’t shy away from the harder edges of heroism either. Several chapters explore the ethical tensions that arise when good intentions collide with complex realities. Others examine failure—what it means when heroic efforts fall short, and how people make sense of those moments. And a few contributors take up the role of the antihero, showing how flawed or reluctant figures can illuminate the messy, ambiguous terrain of real-world moral action.

What makes this collection especially energizing is its international scope. Authors from Europe, Oceania, and North America bring perspectives shaped by different cultural contexts, different educational systems, and different social challenges. Yet across these differences, a shared theme emerges: heroism is less about extraordinary individuals and more about the everyday choices that sustain communities and foster resilience.

If you’re interested in leadership, moral courage, or simply understanding how people rise to meet the demands of the twenty‑first century, I think you’ll find something meaningful in this volume. Editing it reminded me that heroism isn’t a distant ideal. It’s something we practice—imperfectly, creatively, persistently—every day.

I’ll keep you updated about the book’s publication date, which is probably late 2026. Here’s the exact citation:

Pascoe, J., Thorkhildsen, T., & Allison, S. T. (2027). Everyday heroism: Courage, compassion and the power to change the world. Cambridge Scholars.

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Our Definition of "Hero"

Commentary and Analysis

who-is-your-hero1By Scott T. Allison and George R. Goethals

We’ve written an encyclopedia article about all the various definitions of a hero, which you can view here.

Most social scientists define heroism as exceptional pro-social behavior that is voluntary and involves risk and self-sacrifice.  Although we respect that definition and recognize its value, it is important to acknowledge a more subjective approach to defining a hero.

If you haven’t read our first heroes book, our definition of a hero is based on our research on people’s stated choices of heroes. We’ve asked many hundreds of people to tell us who their heroes are, and why. From our data it’s pretty clear that in our society, heroism is in the eye of the beholder. Preferences for heroes are as varied as people’s taste in music, movies, and paintings. Defining a hero is like defining good food. It depends on your tastes, your personal experiences, and maybe even the current developmental stage of your life.

Cancer victims name cancer survivors as their heroes. Soccer players list soccer stars as their heroes. In short, your needs and motives determine whom you choose as heroes. Maturity and development play a role in hero selection, with younger people tending to choose heroes known for their talents, physical skills, and celebrity status. Older people tend to favor moral heroes. As we get older and wiser, our tastes in heroes evolve. Some have suggested that with age and wisdom, our choice of heroes improves — perhaps as we get older we become more discriminating and more respectful of the term “hero”.

The point we wish to make is that every person we have profiled in this blog is someone’s hero. We didn’t choose the heroes whom we profile on this blog — you did. Each hero may not be your personal hero, but he or she is somebody’s hero, and the reasons are valid and meaningful to the person holding them.

Even Joseph Campbell, the great mythologist and founder of the study of heroes, acknowledged that heroism is in the eye of the beholder. Campbell said, “You could be a local god, but for the people whom that local god conquered, you could be the enemy. Whether you call someone a hero or a monster is all relative….” (The Power of Myth, p. 156).

The World War II German soldier who died, said Campbell, “is as much a hero as the American soldier who was sent over there to kill him.” Campbell believed that the moral objective of heroism “is that of saving a people, saving a person, or supporting an idea.”

Although we agree with Campbell, and others, that heroism is in the eye of the beholder, we will never profile people such as Adolf Hitler in our blog, even if Hitler is considered heroic to small segment of society. There are some people whose values are so repugnant to us, and to the reasonable majority, that we will never profile them here.

We’ve found that people’s beliefs about heroes tend to follow a systematic pattern. After polling hundreds of people, we discovered that heroes are perceived to be highly moral, highly competent, or both. More specifically, heroes are believed to possess eight traits, which we call The Great Eight. These traits are smart, strong, resilient, selfless, caring, charismatic, reliable, and inspiring. It’s unusual for a hero to possess all eight of these characteristics, but most heroes have a majority of them.

As authors of this blog, we do have our own personal heroes. Our heroes combine great selflessness with great ability. In our second heroes book we call heroes of this type Traditional Heroes. One of us  (Scott Allison) identifies Roberto Clemente his greatest hero.  Clemente was a great baseball player who died helping earthquake victims. The other of us (George Goethals) calls Abraham Lincoln his greatest hero. Lincoln showed remarkable heroic leadership while healing a divided nation and freeing slaves.

When we were younger, a person didn’t have to be particularly moral or selfless to be a hero to us. The person just had to be a star athlete or great rock star.  We’ve outgrown this type of hero, which we call a Transitional Hero. Now our heroes have to accomplish far more than show great ability. They must also perform some exemplary action in the service of others.

Our research has also found that there are at least 12 functions of heroism. Heroes give us hope, heroes energize us, heroes develop us, heroes heal us, heroes impart wisdom, heroes are role models for morality, heroes offer safety and protection, heroes give us positive emotions, heroes give us meaning and purpose, heroes provide social connection and reduce loneliness, heroes help individuals achieve personal goals, and heroes help society achieve societal goals.

We will certainly continue to welcome any debates about the validity of our contentions in this blog. Critiques about the hero-worthiness of a particular individual may sharpen our thinking about who are the special men and women among us who deserve the term “hero” associated with their names. In the mean time, let’s honor the diversity of opinion out there about who our heroes are. We’re all in a different place in life, and our heroes shift and evolve as we ourselves shift and evolve.

As mentioned before, we’ve recently published the Encyclopedia of Heroism Studies, and in it we describe our current thinking about the definition of heroism.

References

Allison, S. T. (Ed.) (2022). The 12 functions of heroes and heroism. Richmond: Palsgrove.

Allison, S. T. (2023). Definitions and descriptions of heroism. In S. T. Allison, J. K. Beggan, and G. R. Goethals (Eds.), Encyclopedia of Heroism Studies. New York: Springer.

Allison, S. T., & Goethals, G. R. (2011). Heroes: What They Do & Why We Need Them.  New York: Oxford University Press.

Allison, S. T., & Goethals, G. R. (2025). Heroic Leadership: An Influence Taxonomy of 100 Exceptional Individuals. New York: Routledge.

Allison, S. T., Beggan, J. K., & Goethals, G. R. (Eds.) (2024). The encyclopedia of heroism studies. Springer.

Campbell, J. (1988). The Power of Myth. (with Bill Moyers).

 

Leadership Illiteracy: Why We Keep Choosing the Wrong Leaders

Commentary and Analysis,

By Scott T. Allison

What makes someone a great leader?

Most of us think we know. We look for confidence. Presence. Strength. Charisma. We’re drawn to people who command attention—those who seem certain, bold, and larger than life.

But what if we’re using the wrong criteria altogether?

A growing problem in modern society is what we might call leadership illiteracy: the tendency to evaluate leaders using the wrong signals. Instead of focusing on what truly matters, we rely on surface-level cues—style over substance, appearance over character. And the consequences can be profound.

The Illusion of Leadership

Leadership illiteracy begins with a simple mistake: confusing how a leader looks with who a leader is. We instinctively equate charisma with competence, confidence with credibility, and strength with moral authority. These assumptions feel natural—but they are often wrong.

Psychologically, this reflects a well-known bias: we rely on quick, visible cues to make judgments about others. In leadership contexts, however, this shortcut becomes especially dangerous. It leads to what we might call the heroism attribution error—the tendency to assume that someone who looks like a hero actually is one.

In reality, many of the traits we admire most in leaders are morally neutral. Charisma, boldness, and determination can serve noble purposes—or destructive ones. Leadership illiteracy occurs when we fail to tell the difference.

The Container vs. the Content

One way to understand this problem is to distinguish between the container of leadership and its content. The container is what we see first: charisma, confidence, resilience, communication skill. These qualities are vivid, engaging, and easy to recognize.

The content is what truly defines leadership: values, moral commitments, and how a leader treats others—especially those with less power. The problem is that the container is loud, while the content is quiet.

We are naturally drawn to leaders who appear strong and inspiring. But these traits tell us very little about whether someone is ethical, compassionate, or trustworthy. In fact, many qualities we associate with heroes—being bold, inspiring, or determined—can just as easily describe villains. These traits are tools. Their moral value depends entirely on how they are used.

Leadership illiteracy is, at its core, a failure to distinguish between container and content.

Why We Keep Getting It Wrong

If the distinction seems obvious, why do we keep making the same mistake? Because human attention is not neutral. We are wired to notice what stands out. Psychologists call this salience—the tendency for vivid, attention-grabbing features to dominate our perception. Charismatic leaders benefit enormously from this bias.

They capture our attention quickly. And once they do, we begin to fill in the blanks. We assume competence. We assume integrity. We assume leadership.

But these assumptions are often unwarranted. This helps explain why people sometimes elevate leaders who are confident but not compassionate, persuasive but not ethical. Charisma creates an illusion of depth where little exists. And once we are impressed, it becomes harder to step back and evaluate critically.

The Real Cost of Leadership Illiteracy

Leadership illiteracy is not just a cognitive error—it has real-world consequences. When individuals and societies prioritize style over substance, they risk empowering leaders whose moral compass is weak or self-serving. History offers many examples of leaders who were compelling and persuasive, yet deeply harmful.

The issue is not that charisma is bad. Charisma can be a force for good. The problem is that charisma is not a reliable indicator of moral character. When we evaluate leaders based on the wrong criteria, we increase the likelihood of poor—and sometimes disastrous—choices.

What We Should Be Looking For

If we are illiterate in leadership, the solution is not to abandon judgment—it is to learn to read leadership differently. Across research on heroism and moral behavior, one theme appears consistently: true leadership is rooted in concern for others. The traits that distinguish genuine leaders are not about dominance or visibility. Instead, they include:

  • selflessness
  • moral integrity
  • compassion
  • a commitment to helping and protecting others

These qualities reflect the moral content of leadership. Importantly, they are often less visible than charisma. They do not always capture attention. But they are far more predictive of whether a leader’s actions will benefit or harm others.

Mythologist Joseph Campbell described the hero’s journey as a transformation from self-centeredness to service. At its end, the hero recognizes their deep connection to others. This idea echoes across traditions. Martin Luther King Jr. emphasized our “interrelated structure of reality,” while Albert Einstein urged us to expand our circle of compassion beyond ourselves.

These perspectives converge on a simple insight: The best leaders unite. They do not divide.

Leadership as Love in Action

At its core, effective leadership can be understood in one phrase: Love in action. This is not about sentimentality. It is about behavior—how leaders act in relation to others. When people take risks to protect others, stand up against injustice, or act with integrity in difficult situations, they are expressing leadership grounded in care.

This kind of leadership appears in everyday life:

  • a teacher supporting a struggling student
  • a colleague speaking up against unfairness
  • a community member helping others in crisis
  • an individual choosing integrity over convenience

These actions may not be flashy. But they reveal something more important than charisma: character.

Becoming More Literate About Leadership

If leadership illiteracy is the problem, then the solution is learning to ask better questions. Instead of asking: “Is this person impressive?” We should ask: “Who does this person serve?”

Do their actions benefit others, or primarily themselves? Do they expand compassion, or create division? Do they take responsibility, or deflect blame?

These questions shift our focus from appearance to substance. They help us evaluate the content of leadership, not just its container.

Final Thought

We all want strong leaders—people who inspire us and guide us through uncertainty.  But if we rely on the wrong signals, we will continue to choose poorly.

Leadership illiteracy is not inevitable. It is a skill gap—one we can correct. Because in the end, leadership is not about who stands out. It is about who shows up for others—consistently, compassionately, and with integrity.

And that is something no amount of charisma can replace.

References

Allison, S. T. (2024). Heroism attribution error. In S. T. Allison, J. K. Beggan, and G. R. Goethals (Eds.), Encyclopedia of Heroism Studies. Springer.

Allison, S. T. (2025). The love with a thousand faces: Heroism as embodied love in action. Heroism Science, 9, 1-30.

Allison, S. T., & Goethals, G. R. (2024). Heroic leadership: An influence taxonomy of 100 exceptional individuals (2nd ed.). Routledge.

Goethals, G. R., Allison, S. T., & Sorenson, G. J. (Eds.) (2023). The SAGE encyclopedia of leadership studies. Sage.

What is Heroic Self-Efficacy?

Commentary and Analysis

By Scott T. Allison

In 2025, construction worker Luis Alvarez demonstrated what psychologists call heroic self-efficacy when he rushed into the ocean to help a young girl who had been attacked by a shark. While others watched in shock, Alvarez acted immediately, entering dangerous waters and helping to apply a tourniquet that slowed the girl’s severe bleeding until emergency responders arrived.

Alvarez’s rapid and decisive intervention reflected more than spontaneous courage; it revealed a confident belief in his ability to respond effectively in a life-threatening situation. Such moments illustrate the essence of heroic self-efficacy — the confidence that one can step forward and act effectively when circumstances call for courage and service to others.

Let’s dive into the background of this idea, beginning with Bandura’s (1977) innovative self-efficacy theory.

Bandura proposed that individuals actively shape their environments through cognitive, affective, and behavioral interactions. Through this process, people regulate their behavior in pursuit of goals and develop their sense of self. Central to the theory is the idea that beliefs about personal capability are among the strongest predictors of behavior, influencing the goals individuals set, the activities they pursue, their persistence in the face of obstacles, and their decision-making and problem-solving strategies (Bandura 1977; Maddux and Gosselin 2012).

Self-efficacy refers to beliefs about one’s ability to respond effectively to specific challenges and conditions. These beliefs are not personality traits or fixed characteristics but develop across the lifespan through interaction with the environment (Maddux and Gosselin 2012; Maddux and Kleiman 2021). Self-efficacy expectations are typically domain-specific; confidence in one area does not necessarily translate to another. Self-efficacy can also operate at both individual and collective levels. Collective efficacy refers to shared beliefs about a group’s capacity to achieve desired goals and is particularly relevant for social heroes who act within groups or organizations (Bandura 2000; Condren 2019).

Self-efficacy beliefs develop from five primary sources:

  1. performance experiences
  2. vicarious experiences
  3. imagined experiences
  4. verbal persuasion
  5. physiological and emotional states

Performance experiences—successes and failures in relevant situations—are the most powerful source because they provide direct evidence of one’s capabilities. Observing role models provides vicarious experiences that help individuals learn effective strategies and increase confidence. Imagined experiences and verbal encouragement can also strengthen efficacy beliefs, though typically less strongly. Finally, physiological and emotional states influence perceived capability, with negative emotional states often undermining self-efficacy.

Applied to heroism, heroic self-efficacy refers to beliefs about one’s ability to respond effectively in situations requiring courageous or prosocial action. Psychologist Michael Condren (2024) has conducted studies demonstrating the importance of self-efficacy in predicting heroic behavior.

People who have risked their lives to save others often shared experiences that fostered heroic self-efficacy (Kohen et al. 2017). Many had previously imagined situations requiring intervention and had practiced helping behaviors in everyday life. They also possessed relevant skills and experiences that increased confidence in their ability to act effectively. These findings highlight the importance of both imagined and performance experiences in developing heroic self-efficacy.

Other forms of heroism demonstrate the importance of social influences. Dissident artists in communist Poland developed heroic self-efficacy partly through exposure to role models within their families and social networks (Csikszentmihalyi et al. 2017). These vicarious experiences provided models of courageous action and sometimes served as direct entry points into dissident activities. Participation in dissident groups then provided performance experiences that strengthened both individual and collective efficacy beliefs.

Similar developmental patterns appear among social activists. Many activists engaged in value-driven challenges to authority during adolescence or even childhood, providing early performance experiences that shaped their sense of efficacy (Condren 2019). Observing activist organizations and their public actions provided vicarious experiences that motivated participation and strengthened confidence in their ability to contribute effectively. Participation in activist groups further reinforced both self-efficacy and collective efficacy beliefs.

Vicarious experiences of heroic action may also stimulate the heroic imagination, defined as a mindset oriented toward helping others and taking risks for moral causes (Franco et al. 2011). This mindset develops through lifelong interaction with one’s environment and can foster the development of heroic self-efficacy (Allison et al. 2017). Accordingly, hero training programs aim to cultivate heroic imagination and consciousness in order to strengthen heroic self-efficacy. Programs such as the Heroic Imagination Project use role models and guided imagination exercises to help participants envision how they would respond in situations requiring courageous action (Riches et al. 2020).

Overall, heroic self-efficacy plays a central role in the developmental process of heroism. By strengthening individuals’ confidence in their ability to act effectively in challenging situations, heroic self-efficacy increases the likelihood that people will translate prosocial values into heroic action.

REFERENCES

Allison, Scott T., George R. Goethals, and Roderick M. Kramer. 2017. Setting the scene: The rise and coalescence of heroism science. In Handbook of heroism and heroic leadership, ed. Scott T. Allison, George R. Goethals, and Roderick M. Kramer, 1–16. Routledge.

Bandura, Albert. 1977. Self-efficacy: Toward a unifying theory of behavioral change. Psychological Review 84 (2): 191–215.

Bandura, Albert. 2000. Exercise of human agency through collective efficacy. Current Directions in Psychological Science 9 (3): 75–78.

Condren, Michael. 2024. Heroic self-efficacy. In S. Allison, J. Beggan, & G. Goethals (Eds.), Encyclopedia of Heroism Studies. Springer Nature.

Condren, Michael. 2019. Self-directed universalists: Social heroes and value-oriented challenges to authority. Heroism Science 4 (2).

Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly, Michael Condren, and Izabela Lebuda. 2017. Deviant heroes and social heroism in everyday life: Activists and artists. In Handbook of heroism and heroic leadership, ed Scott T. Allison, George R. Goethals, and Roderick M. Kramer, 249–261. Routledge.

Franco, Zeno E., Kathy Blau, and Philip G. Zimbardo. 2011. Heroism: A conceptual analysis and differentiation between heroic action and altruism. Review of General Psychology 15 (2): 99–113.

Kohen, Ari, Matt Langdon, and Brian R. Riches. 2017. The making of a hero: Cultivating empathy, altruism, and heroic imagination. Journal of Humanistic Psychology.