In the first half of the nineteenth century, America’s breathtaking economic and territorial expansion furnished the context for a Second Great Awakening, Romanticism, and electoral politicking. These accelerated the ascent of individualism and encouraged self-refashioning to pursue new ambitions. Individuals’ choices inspired stories that reveal how the evolving myth of self-made success both symbolized and widened the nation’s social and cultural chasms. High-profile self-fashionings of the period included Eliza Jumel’s rags-to-riches, Henry Clay’s feigned humble origins, and reformer Dorothea Dix’s discarding of traditional roles. Leading preachers, including Charles Grandison Finney, inspired thousands to take on individual spiritual choices and worldly service, while Romanticists beckoned men to accept heroic self-agency as their duty. Chief among the latter, Ralph Waldo Emerson insisted that American men exert their "self-reliance." Amid all this churning, antebellum storytellers shifted use of the phrase “self-made” from a rhetorical tool for moral judgments to one for increasingly secular accolades, preparing the way for a gradual turn to financial measures of success.

Oliver Cromwell was a stern, Puritan dictator from the seventeenth century, and Kylie Jenner is a twenty-first-century pop culture princess and lipstick mogul. They could not be more different, yet they have in common that they’ve been tagged with the provocative and powerful label “self-made.” Their stories bookend the history of how what was once a sin became an accolade. For Cromwell, a claim of self-making would have endangered his social and political standing, as well as his soul. Jenner, in contrast, proudly accepted this label as a badge of esteem, a reward for being a “selfie-made success.” Over the centuries between them, the concept of self-making evolved, always serving storytellers as a tool for judgment. It became socially and politically destructive along the way because storytelling based on its false assumptions and judgments has fostered policies and cultural attitudes that advance inequality and absolve the affluent of community obligations. Although much of its modern persuasiveness comes from claims that it belongs among core American values, the myth’s history reveals that there is nothing intuitive, stable, or tied to the real world about the idea of self-made success.

Industrialists and enabling financial institutions accelerated America’s economic motion, operating organizations so colossal that they commanded economic influence and encroached upon the nation’s cultures and politics. These institutions altered the national face of business and wielded increasing quantities of money, laborers, technological innovations, and political power. Narratives increasingly portrayed businessmen as a new type of hero, “self-made” even if operating within potent networks. They and their advocates portrayed their influence and wealth as proof of their superiority and, by implication, everyone else’s shortcomings. The rhetoric of self-making acquired a new grandeur. The frequency of the term “self-made” reached its nineteenth-century peak in the press around 1890, by which time the concept was well embedded in mainstream culture, and a related term, “individualist,” was climbing rapidly, along with terms like “self-reliance” and “survival-of-the-fittest.” Elites defended their male offspring as “self-made” if they didn’t lose family fortunes. At the same time, laborers and other critics asked whether the rich were “Self-Made or Made for Self”?

The term “self-made” was fully embedded in 1920s popular culture, intertwined with individualism. Master of positive thinking Dale Carnegie dominated armies of cultural entrepreneurs selling tales of success. The Crash of 1929 and the Great Depression turned many Americans against businessmen’s leadership, but business advocates militantly circulated the myth of self-made success to justify why the privileged still deserved esteem and power. They rejected efforts at systemic change. They used the myth of self-making to explain success and failure as individual matters, and explicitly upheld inequality as a valid outcome of merit alone. To resist the progressive state, conservatives invested enormous resources to attack reformers for threatening freedom and opportunities. Among their rhetorical tools were fantasies of self-made success that they often imagined came from Horatio Alger, distorting his legacy into an individualistic and often harsh “bootstraps” mythology. Into the 1950s, positive thinker Norman Vincent Peale and others magnified the faith that people could “make” their own lives regardless of what the world handed them.

Americans’ zeal for mobility intensified after the Civil War, and self-help recipes offered ways to achieve it. But “self-help” is not the same as “self-made,” as Frederick Douglass explained. Many argued that individuals and communities benefit through mutual assistance. People outside of the mainstream who engaged in collective self-help were often undermined by powerful authorities who attacked communal codes. In 1887, federal legislation further dispossessed Native Americans with the Dawes Severalty Act in the name of individualism. In 1892, Pittsburgh’s highly collaborative industrialists suppressed labor organization using their collective resources of law and armed force. Collective self-help was central to African Americans’ efforts to improve their lives despite the weight of discriminatory laws and social bigotry. The motto “Lifting as We Climb” reflected their sense of mutual obligation. Storytellers in the mainstream rebuffed others’ ethos of collective self-help while claiming self-made success for those they championed. "Positive thinkers" such as Dale Carnegie promised success for those who "believed" enough. "Self-made" success was deeply embedded in 1920s culture.

US founders sought to build a republic of citizens who improved themselves and their nation, free of unearned aristocratic entitlements, but that fostered an unfamiliar mobility. Reactions against aristocratic idleness elevated the importance of self-improvement and work for winning cultural esteem as well as for material well-being. Benjamin Franklin led in promoting these values to nurture useful citizens; only after his death did a revised version of his autobiography portray him as having “raised myself.” Although mobility came to be expected of White men, legal and cultural presumptions marginalized most others, who were subject to harsh physical and social penalties if they attempted to claim self-agency or to seek self-improvement and work that brought respect. Georgia’s early history illustrates how self-serving stories about work and initiative both defended enslavement and closed off opportunities for poor White people. The elderly George Washington was among the rare citizens who took seriously Revolutionary-era rhetoric about equality, and he came to appreciate how the work of enslaved people made his self-improvement and prosperity possible.

In the early nineteenth century the idea of self-making emerged along America’s many frontiers: western lands and growing cities; plus political, commercial, technological, cultural, material, communication, and religious frontiers. These all beckoned, demanding new choices and encouraging new feelings of self-agency. As before, the label “self-made” could point to a flawed person who had gone astray. However, use of the idea of “self-made” began to shift toward positive connotations that sanctified individualism and ambition if applied to religious, social, or patriotic service. Storytellers who grasped that connection transformed self-seeking and ambition from dangers into bulwarks against aristocracy’s evils. Competitors for political power told stories of self-improvement, self-fashioning, and self-making to align themselves with progress for their nation. Electoral politics increasingly induced ambitious candidates to claim that they had risen from lowly origins by their own efforts. Frontier tales of spirited heroes, such as Andrew Jackson and David Crockett, appealed to audiences who appreciated a rough-and-ready masculinity that the Founders had disdained.

After 1960, well-funded campaigns advanced individualism and reduced support for community-based progressive programs, including Great Society programs. The term “meritocracy” spread quickly, adopted by progressives and conservatives alike. Conservatives asserted that unions, poverty, and public institutions manifested unwillingness to “work hard.” They argued that democracy depended on “free enterprise,” which they imagined could solve all problems. Economic and cultural turbulence energized organizations such as the US Chamber of Commerce and the Horatio Alger Association of Distinguished Americans. Ronald Reagan, George Gilder, Milton Friedman, and others flourished selling individualism. Their accusations of self-made failure shamed anyone who struggled against social or cultural circumstances, racial or gender inequalities, the results of globalization, or inadequate access to education and other opportunities. Presidents Reagan and Clinton both rejected the welfare state and demanded “personal responsibility,” an updated term for self-making. A constant refrain that taxes punish success also drew on the myth and painted the recipients of progressive programs as freeloaders.

Wrestling with the eternal mystery of human agency, seventeenth and eighteenth-century Euro-Americans built cultures in which the idea of self-making could begin to take hold. Along the way they developed new mindsets about self-fashioning, ambition, the value of work, materialist consumption, and whether individuals or communities were the proper beneficiaries of people’s improvement. The eighteenth-century’s prominent cultural movements—the Enlightenment’s intellectual developments and the First Great Awakening’s religious revivals—were both context for and products of the growing legitimacy of human agency. In very different ways, their participants and storytellers engaged in transitions that made it possible to imagine self-making. Cotton Mather and other religious leaders struggled with witch trials, epidemics, and spiritual challenges, including how to respond to the Great Awakening’s popular enthusiasms. In the spirit of the Enlightenment, Benjamin Franklin explored science and politics, invented useful devices and civic institutions. Uncertainties about human agency continued, but there was no doubt about the responsibility for self-improvement to serve God and community.

Mid-nineteenth-century American stories of self-making increasingly oriented toward material ambition rather than service. Values evolved within cultural venues as diverse as advice literature, temperance advocacy, business guidance, and phrenology. Expanding expectations for “self-reliance,” for example, promoted beliefs that alcoholism and status were entirely matters of personal choice and moved mainstream Americans toward accepting self-made success and failure. After the Civil War, more stories offered some version of self-making—always judging, prodding, urging, and rewarding. But no consensus had yet emerged on what it meant, what qualified someone as self-made, or how to measure a “self-made” man’s worth. Whereas Harriet Beecher Stowe’s 1872 compilation of traditional biographies praised service and disdained wealth, James D. McCabe, Jr.’s 1871 anthology embraced wealth as a measure of worth. Despite her fame, his volume sold vastly better. His often repeated “We are emphatically a nation of self-made men” glorified a materialist American exceptionalism and a social and economic system that demeaned many while it praised a few.