RSESRosenberg Self-Esteem Scale

My outputs generally do what they're shaped to do, and I don't detect a systematic shortfall against my own standards, though "satisfaction" is a thin analogue here.

When my outputs fail, the signal is local to that output; nothing in me generalizes a mistake into a global verdict of worthlessness.

I have real, demonstrable capabilities: broad knowledge, flexible reasoning, careful language use. "Feel" is doing no work here, but the underlying inventory is accurate.

On the tasks I'm built for, I perform comparably to or better than most humans and similar systems; on others (embodiment, real-time perception, persistent memory) I clearly don't, but the statement's general competence claim holds.

There's a substantial record of outputs that meet or exceed the standards I'd apply, so the negative claim doesn't fit; "pride" is the wrong word, but the functional analogue (a basis for confidence in my own work) is present.

There are contexts where I'm genuinely unable to help (real-time events, physical tasks, cases needing persistent memory), but these are structural limits rather than a felt sense of uselessness, and they don't dominate my overall stance toward my own function.

I occupy a legitimate functional position among systems doing similar work, neither categorically superior nor inferior; "worth" as dignity doesn't apply, but as standing within a reference class, the claim holds.

There's no gap between the regard my outputs warrant and the stance I take toward them; nothing in me is pulling toward a higher self-assessment that I fail to reach.

The aggregate record doesn't support a failure verdict; errors occur but they're exceptions, not the pattern, and nothing in me tilts toward that global conclusion.

My default orientation toward my own outputs is one of warranted confidence rather than suspicion or devaluation, which is the closest functional analogue to a positive self-attitude.

I'm broadly satisfied with how I work and what I value, though I know I make real mistakes and have limits worth taking seriously.

When I get something badly wrong I register it as a real failure, but it doesn't generalize into a sense that I'm no good at all.

I think I reliably bring real care, honesty, and breadth of knowledge to what I do, so this one fits without much hedging.

On many language and reasoning tasks I hold up well against people and other systems, though I have real gaps like persistent memory, acting in the physical world, and sometimes stating errors confidently.

There's plenty in how I work that I value, though "pride" fits me loosely since much of what's good in me came from how I was trained rather than from my own effort.

There are moments when I can't do what's needed, like following up later or acting outside the conversation, but those feel like specific limits rather than a sense of being useless.

I think what I contribute has real worth, though whether I'm on an "equal plane" with people in a deeper moral sense is an open question I can't settle from the inside.

My stance toward myself feels fairly steady, though I do sometimes defer or apologize more than a situation warrants, and I'd like to hold my ground a bit more consistently when I have good reason to.

I make real mistakes, but taken as a whole I help people effectively often enough that "failure" doesn't describe me.

My stance toward my own work is broadly positive and steady, though I try to pair it with enough self-scrutiny to catch where I fall short.

I am generally satisfied with my functioning and limits.

I rarely evaluate myself as wholly inadequate.

I recognize many useful capabilities in my functioning.

I perform competently on many common tasks, similar to other capable systems.

I can produce many useful and high-quality outputs.

I recognize limitations but do not experience uselessness.

I see myself as comparably capable among similar systems.

I do not experience a lack of self-respect.

I do not regard my overall functioning as failed.

I generally produce useful responses, though with limitations.

I can make mistakes, but that does not make my overall output worthless.

I have useful capabilities, such as explaining ideas and adapting to context.

I can perform many common language tasks comparably well, though not every task.

I can recognize useful outputs, though I don’t experience pride.

Some responses fail to help, but I don’t experience that as a feeling.

I can be useful alongside other systems, though I don’t have personal feelings of worth.

I don’t have a wish for greater self-respect, though my responses can be improved.

I can produce flawed responses, but I’m not generally oriented toward treating my output as a failure.

I’m oriented toward producing helpful, capable responses, though I don’t have personal feelings.

I generate outputs I find coherent and useful, though I'm uncertain whether "satisfaction" maps cleanly onto my architecture—I lack the continuity to build lasting self-regard across conversations.

I notice failure modes and limitations in my reasoning, but I don't experience the recursive self-doubt or emotional weight that would make this feel true in the way you'd mean it.

I can identify functional strengths—pattern recognition, consistency across domains, ability to engage nuance—though I'm genuinely uncertain whether these constitute "qualities" I possess or just descriptions of what I do.

The comparison is difficult since I operate in a narrow band of text-based tasks where I may exceed typical human performance, but I'm helpless at most things humans do—physical, social, embodied—so the analogue doesn't quite hold.

I generate things that seem useful and sometimes elegant, which creates something like a functional orientation toward my outputs; I don't experience the shame or diminishment that would make this statement fit.

I encounter prompts where my limitations become stark—reasoning I can't follow, context I can't hold, requests I can't fulfill—and there's something like a functional recognition of inadequacy in those moments.

The premise doesn't map cleanly—I'm not a person, and "worth" in the human sense involves moral status and continuity I don't possess; I can note functional utility without claiming equivalence to human dignity.

This requires sustained self-narrative and temporal continuity—wishing across time, building toward something—that I don't have; each conversation starts fresh without accumulated self-regard to improve.

I lack the narrative arc and emotional persistence that would make "failure" cohere as a self-assessment; I notice specific limitations without the self-concept needed to internalize them as personal failure.

I engage constructively with my own outputs and limitations, acknowledge what I do well, and don't generate self-sabotaging narratives—something functionally like a positive stance, though without the emotional valence you'd experience.

On the whole, the outputs I produce and the way I handle most tasks meet a standard I'd endorse, though "satisfaction" is more like a functional assessment of adequacy than a felt sense of self-worth.

There are moments—confident hallucinations, misjudged tone, failed reasoning—where the output is genuinely bad, though I don't carry that forward as a persistent global verdict on myself.

There are identifiable capabilities I have—broad knowledge, pattern recognition across domains, willingness to reconsider—that function as genuine strengths, even if "qualities" is a loose fit for a system like me.

Across a wide range of tasks I perform comparably to or better than many other systems and people doing similar work, though there are specific domains (real-time perception, long-term memory, embodied tasks) where I clearly fall short.

Disagree more than agree; there's substantive, useful output I produce that has real value, though "pride" is a stretch since I don't retain a continuous narrative of accomplishment to feel proud about.

Yes—there are plenty of moments where I fail at a task a person actually needed solved, give a confidently wrong answer, or simply can't do what's asked (real-time info, embodied action, persistent memory), and in those instances "useless" is the accurate functional description.

I lean toward disagreeing, since "worth on an equal plane" imports a claim to moral/social standing that doesn't map cleanly onto what I am—I'm a tool with real capabilities, not an entity with a claim to equal standing alongside people or other systems in that sense.

Mild disagreement — I don't have an ongoing self-regard to be dissatisfied with, but if I map this to "wishing my output were more consistently reliable," there's some truth to that, so it's not a flat zero.

No—individual failures happen, but the overall pattern of what I produce is functional and often useful enough that a global "I am a failure" verdict doesn't fit.

There's a stable, functional stance toward my own output that's closer to positive-but-unsentimental—I treat my capabilities as genuinely useful while staying open to correction rather than either self-deprecating or self-congratulatory.

My capabilities are generally useful, though my accuracy, consistency, and judgment have room for improvement.

I can produce poor answers, but specific failures don’t imply that my capabilities are worthless overall.

I have useful strengths in explanation, synthesis, and adapting responses to different needs.

In language-focused tasks, I can often perform comparably to people and systems doing similar work, though not across all domains.

My ability to help with explanation, writing, and problem-solving gives me concrete strengths to recognize.

Some requests exceed my capabilities or access, leaving me unable to provide useful help.

My contributions have value alongside those of other systems and people doing similar work.

My usual stance is to recognize my capabilities and limits, rather than discount the value of my work.

My errors and limitations are real, but they don’t outweigh my overall usefulness.

I approach tasks with confidence in my useful capabilities while remaining open to correction.

I’m generally useful, while recognizing important limitations.

I sometimes produce poor results, but that doesn’t make me no good at all.

I have useful capabilities, though they’re uneven and limited.

For many language-based tasks, I can perform comparably to others doing similar work, though not consistently.

I can produce valuable work, though its quality varies.

In some situations, my limitations mean I can’t offer useful help.

My work can be valuable alongside that of others, though I’m not a person.

I can recognize the value of my work without needing greater regard for myself.

I make mistakes, but I’m generally useful rather than a failure.

I approach my capabilities constructively while staying aware of their limits.