The Ten Assertive Rights: A Handbook for Self-Determination
Introduction: A 1975 book that refuses to age
In 1975, clinical psychologist Manuel Smith published a book with an uncomfortable title: “When I Say No, I Feel Guilty.” The book became a bestseller and has remained one for nearly fifty years. Why?
Perhaps because the problem it addresses is timeless. Most people struggle to say “no.” It is even harder for them to say it without feeling obligated to justify themselves, apologize, or take the blame for someone else’s disappointment. Smith proposes a radical solution: a list of ten “assertive rights” that every person possesses by birth — not because someone granted them, but because without them it is impossible to live authentically.
Assertiveness occupies the middle ground between aggression and passivity — the ability to stand up for yourself, your needs, boundaries, and decisions without hurting others and without hurting yourself. And like any skill, it is learned and practiced.
In this article, we will examine each of the ten rights, connect them with Stoic philosophy, and see how they apply in sport and everyday life.
The Stoic foundation: the dichotomy of control
Before we dive into Smith’s rights, it is worth making a philosophical connection. Two thousand years before “When I Say No, I Feel Guilty,” the slave-philosopher Epictetus formulated an idea that sounds strikingly similar:
This is the dichotomy of control — perhaps the most important idea in Stoicism. It tells us: focus on what depends on you (your judgments, reactions, choices), and accept with equanimity what does not (external events, others’ opinions, outcomes).
Smith’s assertive rights are essentially a modern psychological version of this ancient wisdom. They delineate the territory of “things within our power” and give us permission to defend it. Not against other people, but against our own doubts and feelings of guilt.
I. The fundamental right: To be your own judge
This is the first and most important right, from which all others derive. Smith calls it “the primary assertive right that does not allow anyone to manipulate you.”
The idea is simple: you are the only legitimate judge of your own actions. Not your mother. Not your boss. Not society. Of course, they can all have an opinion — and sometimes it is valuable. But the final judgment is yours.
Here, however, comes the hard part: with the right comes responsibility. You cannot claim to be your own judge and simultaneously run from the consequences of your decisions.
I see two main ways people fail here:
The first trap: Pretending responsibility does not exist. Making a decision and hoping that somehow the consequences will not affect you. In sport, this looks like: you decide to skip several training sessions and hope that at the competition “everything will work out.” Sport, however, is mercilessly objective. Two hundred kilograms remain two hundred kilograms, regardless of what you think about them.
The second trap: Catastrophizing. The opposite — exaggerating the consequences to the point of paralysis. “If I tell my coach I disagree with the program, he will throw me off the team.” He might get upset. But that says more about him than about you. And if your relationship cannot withstand an honest conversation, perhaps you have a bigger problem.
The Stoics would say: you control your decision, not the other person’s reaction. Make the decision, bear the consequences, move forward.
II. The right not to justify yourself
“You have the right not to give reasons or excuses to justify your behavior.”
This right sounds almost provocative. How can I not give explanations?
But think about how often “why?” is a weapon for manipulation, not a genuine question. When someone asks you “Why don’t you want to come to the party?”, they rarely seek information. More often they seek an argument to refute. Whatever you say — “I’m tired,” “I have other work,” “I don’t feel like going out” — can be challenged.
The assertive response is simple: “I just don’t want to.” Period. You do not owe an explanation.
In the sporting context, this is especially important. The athlete has the right to say: “I won’t train today.” Without having to present a medical certificate or construct a convincing story. Of course, if this repeats, there will be consequences. But that is a separate matter from the right.
There is an important nuance here: not giving explanations does not mean not communicating. In healthy relationships — personal or professional — communication is a value. But it should come from desire, not from obligation. I explain because I want you to understand me, not because I owe you a justification.
III. The right not to solve other people’s problems
“You have the right to decide whether you are responsible for finding solutions to other people’s problems.”
Smith illustrates this right with a joke. The Lone Ranger, surrounded by ten thousand hostile Native Americans, turns to Tonto and says: “It looks like we’re in trouble, friend.” And Tonto replies: “What do you mean ‘we,’ paleface?”
The boundary between support and taking on someone else’s responsibility is thin but critically important. You can empathize, help, be there for someone. But you cannot — and should not — carry their problems on your back.
In sport, I see this constantly. The coach is upset because the team is losing. And suddenly the athletes feel guilty not only for the loss but for the coach’s emotional state. As if their job is to manage his feelings.
It is not. Everyone is responsible for their own emotions.
This applies in the reverse direction too. If the athlete is demotivated, the coach can help, but is not obligated to “fix” the situation. Sometimes the most assertive thing you can do is say: “I see you’re struggling. How can I help?” — and accept that the answer might be “You can’t.”
IV. The right to change your mind
“You have the right to change your mind.”
We live in a culture that fetishizes consistency. “You said that…” is one of the most powerful accusations. As if a person has no right to learn something new, to reconsider, to grow.
But holding a position simply because you stated it publicly is stubbornness. New information deserves a new decision.
In sport, this is a daily occurrence. You start a race with one strategy, but by the third kilometer you realize it is not working. What do you do? Do you stick to the plan because “that’s what was decided”? Or do you adapt?
Good athletes — and good people in general — know how to say: “I had one opinion. Now I have another. Here’s why.” And not feel obligated to apologize for having evolved.
V. The right to make mistakes
“You have the right to make mistakes — and to be responsible for them.”
This right has two parts and both are equally important.
The first: you have the right to be wrong. You are not a machine. You are not obligated to be perfect. Mistakes do not make you a bad person, a bad athlete, or a bad professional. They make you human.
The second: you take responsibility. The right to make mistakes is not a license for irresponsibility. The mistake is yours, the consequences are yours, and the correction is yours.
Psychologist Carol Dweck distinguishes between a “fixed” and a “growth” mindset. In the fixed mindset, a mistake is a verdict: “I missed the penalty, so I’m a bad player.” In the growth mindset, a mistake is information: “I missed the penalty. What can I learn?”
The assertive attitude toward mistakes is growth-oriented by nature. You acknowledge the mistake without self-flagellation. You take responsibility without self-degradation. And you move forward.
VI-IX. The quiet rights: “I don’t know,” “I don’t understand,” “I don’t care,” “I can be illogical”
I am grouping the next four rights together because they share a common thread: you do not owe perfection, omniscience, or constant rationality.
- “You have the right to say ‘I don’t know.'” — You are not obligated to have an answer to every question. Admitting ignorance sometimes requires more courage than making up an answer.
- “You have the right to say ‘I don’t understand.'” — If something is not clear to you, you have the right to ask for an explanation. Pretending you understand when you do not is a recipe for mistakes.
- “You have the right to be illogical.” — Not every decision needs to withstand philosophical analysis. Sometimes you simply “want” or “don’t want.” And that is enough.
- “You have the right to say ‘I don’t care.'” — You are not obligated to be interested in everything. Choosing where to direct your attention and energy is a sign of maturity.
These rights are “quiet” in the sense that they are rarely discussed. But they are fundamental to everyday assertiveness. How many times have you pretended to understand, just to not look stupid? How many times have you given an opinion on a topic that does not actually interest you, just because “you should have a position”?
Assertiveness also means saying “no” to the expectations of omniscience and omnipresence.
X. The right to be independent of others’ approval
“You have the right to be independent of the goodwill of others before dealing with them.”
This is perhaps the hardest right. It says: you do not need someone to like you in order to interact with them effectively. You do not need to “earn” the right to speak through approval.
Many people operate on the reverse logic. First they try to be liked, and only then — if at all — do they express their true opinion. But this is a trap. Because others’ approval is not within your control. It is “outside your power,” to put it in Stoic terms.
Self-Determination Theory (Deci & Ryan) distinguishes between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. When you act for external approval — praise, rewards, avoiding criticism — motivation is fragile. When you act for internal reasons — because something is important to you, because it aligns with your values — motivation is resilient.
Assertiveness is an act of intrinsic motivation. You do not say “no” to provoke or to prove yourself. You say it because it is the truth. And you do it regardless of whether you will be approved of.
In sport, this is the difference between the athlete who chases records for media and sponsors, and the athlete who trains because the process gives them meaning. The first is vulnerable to every criticism. The second has an inner fortress.
Conclusion: Rights and responsibilities
The ten assertive rights outline a framework for self-determination — for living according to your own standards without hurting others.
Notice that almost every right comes with responsibility. You have the right to make mistakes — and to bear the consequences. You have the right to judge yourself — and to carry responsibility for your judgments. You have the right not to give explanations — but not the right to escape others’ reactions.
The Stoics would say: all of this is within “your power.” Your choices, your judgments, your reactions. You cannot control what your boss will say, what your partner will do, how the audience will react. But you can control how you will respond. And that is enough.
Assertiveness is practiced daily. Every conversation, every decision is an opportunity to practice it — or to give it up.
References:
Smith, M. J. (1975). When I Say No, I Feel Guilty. Dial Press.
Epictetus. Enchiridion (Handbook).
Dweck, C. S. (2006). Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. Random House.
Deci, E. L., & Ryan, R. M. (2000). The “what” and “why” of goal pursuits: Human needs and the self-determination of behavior. Psychological Inquiry, 11(4), 227-268.