October 26, 2019 – A graffiti artist tags Beirut’s walls with the word ‘ثورة’ (revolution) during ongoing protests demanding political and economic reforms that began on October 17. Photo by Nadim Kobeissi, from the album لبنان يثور on Flickr (CC BY 2.0).
“Every cloud has a silver lining.”
“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
Such idioms permeate our cultural psyche, promising that trials inherently cultivate virtues such as strength, wisdom, and resilience. This notion that “out of suffering springs personal growth” is alluring. It infuses our tragedies with hope and meaning. But does adversity actually foster development, or is this simply a fable that brings hollow solace?
The belief in adversity-induced growth is embodied in Nietzsche’s maxim, “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.” It suggests that our deepest personal growth sprouts from our most painful wounds. This concept holds an undeniable charm. It appeals to our desire for self-determination, allowing us to convert tragedies into transformation. By sanctifying suffering in this way, we render it more bearable.
This philosophical belief undergirds psychological theories like post-traumatic growth. Post-traumatic growth refers to the positive psychological changes that an individual experiences as a result of struggling with highly challenging life circumstances. It involves a developmental process of regaining or surpassing pre-trauma levels of functioning and wellbeing.
Researchers like Richard Tedeschi argue that distressing events can cause heightened life appreciation and bolster relationships, spiritual gains, and renewed purpose. The cultural narrative is clear: trials build character. However, while adversity can catalyze growth, this cause-effect is more fragile than we admit.
October 29, 2019 – Protesters gather around the Ring in Beirut, Lebanon, amid nationwide demonstrations demanding political and economic reforms. Photo by Nadim Kobeissi, from the album لبنان يثور on Flickr (CC BY 2.0).
The illusion of growth
On the surface, adversity-induced growth seems self-evident. Confronting mortality could spur a reassessment of life’s purpose while overcoming loss may uncover inner fortitude. Yet for each hardship-tempered soul, many more are crushed. Trauma conquers rather than refines when it exceeds one’s coping limits. Every spirit, no matter how resilient, has a breaking point.
Additionally, perceiving growth in adversity is often an illusion. Trauma victims frequently struggle to accurately recall their pre-crisis outlook when self-reporting positive changes. Endorsing growth may represent coping mechanisms that mask unresolved grief. Expectations also sway responses–our culture pressures people to derive meaning from suffering. In Lebanon, as is the case in the remainder of Levantine countries, people rarely are allowed to dwell in their sorrow. But contrary to popular narratives, research reveals adversity rarely builds character.
Cultural messages lauding the redemptive power of hardship are seductive even when inaccurate. Yet this illusion comes at a price. Compelled to put a positive spin on anguish, trauma victims may undermine healing. The idea that agonizing ordeals lead to enlightenment can also foster unjustified guilt when the suffering does not transcend their pain. Those unable to “bounce back” stronger are made to feel deficient.
The myth surrounding adversity and growth often provides a hollow solace. Real comfort springs from social assets like community support, not individual strengthening. In fact, culture shapes reactions to crises more than personal qualities do. Western notions of self-determination underpin growth narratives. In collectivist societies, on the other hand, resilience flows from communal coping. Thus, challenging assumptions allows a more nuanced understanding of how people navigate life’s trials.
January 19, 2020 – Destruction of shops after violent protests in downtown Beirut. Photo by Freimut Bahlo, on Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Lebanon: Resilience reconsidered
The myth of adversity-induced growth is embedded in discourses on Lebanese resilience. The refrain “the Lebanese are resilient” is constantly invoked when the nation faces upheaval. It is summoned to inspire hope and fortitude.
Lebanon’s recent tribulations are staggering–financial collapse, the influx of refugees, the Covid-19 pandemic, the detonation of 552 tons of ammonium nitrate (out of 2,754 stored tons) at Beirut’s port, and the recent Israeli war on Lebanon, which has killed at least 523 individuals in Lebanon, displaced over 90,000 residents, and destroyed over 1,700 residential buildings. People in some areas in Lebanon live under the constant sounds of Israeli incursions over Lebanese airspace, a constant reminder that an attack is not out of the question. Yet stoic narratives of Lebanese resilience persist. This mythos has amassed cultural gravitas but crumbles under scrutiny.
Over the years, the Lebanese have undeniably demonstrated psychological stamina, creatively coping with instability and shortages. During the Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990), deprivation spawned innovative solutions out of necessity, finding ways to keep afloat amidst conflict and destruction. Later, when waste management failed in 2015, citizens organized community clean-ups themselves. However, is this truly resilience or is it citizens filling gaps left by a negligent state? Why must people provide basic public services themselves?
August 7, 2020 – Volunteers team up to clean rubble in Gemmayze, Beirut, following the devastating port explosion on August 4. Photo by Dar Al Mussawir for UN Women Arab States on Flickr (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0).
Extolling Lebanese resilience risks absolving the corrupt state. When citizens manage to endure violence, incompetence, and deprivation through sheer improvisation and willpower, who bears real responsibility for finding solutions? The myth of resilience falsely suggests that Lebanese people possess extraordinary psychological capacity to tolerate catastrophes. It frames their struggles as character-building experiences rather than governance failures.
Propagating the myth also fosters misplaced guilt. Following the port explosion, many Lebanese were criticized as negative for expressing anger at politicians instead of having optimistic resilience. Their emotions were labeled “defeatist” for deviating from the cultural script of resilience and bouncing back stronger. This judgment ignores that even the most resilient spirits break eventually. When hardship is framed as an opportunity for growth, those who crumble bear unfair blame.
Additionally, as Lebanon’s economy plunged starting in 2019, rising suicides were condemned as betrayals of resilience rather than understandable despair. Real resilience must make space for human frailty. It is enabled by a compassionate and supportive environment that acknowledges the toll that suffering takes.
Most critically, the myth of resilience engenders harmful passivity. It suggests that deprivation builds character and that things will improve if citizens patiently endure. This narrative silences outrage towards corrupt leaders, preventing any possibility of radical change. First and foremost, positive change requires dispelling fantasies that anguish is redemptive; that pain will bring rewards.
Sometimes situations are too dire for creative coping; destroying rotten foundations is the only way forward. The port blast temporarily shattered illusions, revealing the regime’s culpability.
However, whether this rejection of myth can enable true resilience remains to be seen.
December 20, 2020 – A gas station in Mar Mikhael lies in ruins after the Beirut port explosion in August 2020. Photo by Joe Kassis on Pexels.
The means and ends of growth
The belief that we emerge stronger through hardship also permeates individual mindsets. We convince ourselves that pain leads to wisdom so suffering seems meaningful. But does agony actually cultivate virtue?
On one hand, struggling can impart lessons; a breakup may teach perseverance or losing a job could build empathy for the vulnerable. However, we presume folks recover from heartbreak and job loss due to some internal quality. In truth, community support nurtures resilience far more than individual rigor does. Our excessive emphasis on personal strength obscures how relationships enable growth.
Moreover, research reveals that perceived growth after trauma rarely aligns with actual change. Those professing substantial transformation display more post-traumatic stress symptoms, not less. Feeling pressure to derive positive meaning from anguish can undermine healing.
Seeking significance in adversity may also breed complacency. If misfortune ultimately enlightens, reform becomes less urgent. We overlook how trauma could be prevented by tackling systemic problems. And when oppression is framed as an opportunity for enlightenment, its perpetrators get excused. Adversity should steadfastly be condemned as injustice, not sanctified.
This is not to dismiss growth amid adversity. Suffering can breed insight about the human condition and cultivate self-knowledge. Even so, our faith in phoenix-like transcendence from the ashes often veers into hazardous illusion. To avoid blindness, we must scrutinize impressions that trials inherently edify.
January 26, 2021 – An Instagram post by @investinabudhabi announcing Anghami’s new global HQ and R&D center in Abu Dhabi. Screenshot from IG used in a mockup for illustrative purposes.
Technological resilience: A Lebanese dilemma
In the contemporary age, the dynamism of a nation’s economy is often gauged by its technological infrastructure and the prowess of its startups. Economist and former banker Dan Azzi postulates that the solution to Lebanon’s multifaceted crises might very well lie in technological innovation and the vigor of startups. However, as ideal as this sounds, it hinges on a nation’s technological infrastructure – an area where Lebanon finds itself grappling.
The reality is stark. While the world progresses in the age of digital transformation, Lebanon faces the brunt of infrastructural inadequacies. This predicament forces many Lebanese entrepreneurs and innovators to take unprecedented measures. Either they find ways to bootstrap solutions in a challenging environment or they offer their cutting-edge services at reduced rates, thus undervaluing their potential just to remain competitive on the global stage.
A compelling case study is that of Anghami, the first legal music streaming platform and digital distribution company in the Arab world, and a beacon of Lebanese innovation. Once burgeoning within Lebanon’s borders, Anghami, along with other promising startups, found themselves making the hard choice of relocating to places like the UAE. Such a move was not a reflection of a lack of loyalty or faith in their homeland, but a pragmatic decision driven by the need for robust technological infrastructure to sustain and accelerate their growth.
This underscores a pressing issue. While Lebanon brims with potential and talent, the lack of adequate support mechanisms, especially in the technological domain, curtails its evolution. If left unchecked, this gap might not only stifle innovation but could also result in a brain drain, as more Lebanese tech talents seek greener pastures elsewhere
October 27, 2019 – A protester sits thoughtfully within a bronze statue’s embrace during demonstrations in Beirut, Lebanon. Photo by Nadim Kobeissi, from the album لبنان يثور on Flickr, modified under (CC BY 2.0).
Beyond mythmaking
The belief that adversity gives rise to strength springs from understandable yearning for better times. Concluding that suffering is meaningless resigns us to nihilism. But just because hardship may catalyze growth, does not mean that it innately does so. By perpetuating this notion in the Lebanese context, we underestimate the senseless toll of traumas like the port explosion or the current Israeli war on Lebanon.
To better support the Lebanese people navigating this tragedy, society must move beyond fables and myths of strength. Nuance is required to grasp when and how such crises yield growth. Realities like communal ties and resources prove crucial, more so than individual resilience. And when adversity shatters rather than strengthens, as it did for many in Lebanon, non-judgment and compassion should be the only reaction.
Suffering itself rarely uplifts. But when met with empathy, those battered in Lebanon can learn that even brokenness has meaning. Their pain will be lightened knowing they are not alone in the darkness. For many Lebanese, rather than personal growth, this sense of collective unity may be the deepest solace.
By walking together through agony, fragility shared by communities can one day bloom into wisdom.
Peter Obeid
Peter is a Senior Innovation Consultant at DIEM (Formely EY FABERNOVEL Middle East), a leading regional innovation company in the Middle East. Before his tenure at DIEM, Peter co-founded Plasticycle, a startup focused on sustainability and waste treatment. This initiative not only improved the circular economy in Lebanon but also showcased Peter's knack for identifying and capitalizing on innovative opportunities. He has consulted for multiple local NGOs and set their strategy, operating model, and successfully led their fundraising efforts. Peter holds a Master of Engineering in Chemical and Process Engineering from the Holy Spirit University of Kaslik (USEK). Peter is also a certified in Innovation & Design Thinking from Harvard Business School and as a Scrum Master & Product Owner from scrum.org.
- Peter Obeid
