You've probably seen this quote on LinkedIn, therapy offices, and self-help books: "Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom."
It's almost always attributed to Viktor Frankl, the Austrian psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor who wrote Man's Search for Meaning. The problem? There's no evidence he ever said or wrote these exact words.
But here's what's fascinating: while Frankl may not have said this specific quote, the idea is absolutely central to everything he taught. It's the foundation of his entire therapeutic approach, logotherapy, and it's the lesson he learned while surviving four Nazi concentration camps, including Auschwitz.
So let's address two questions: First, where did this quote really come from? And second—more importantly—what does this idea actually mean, and why might it be the most practical wisdom you encounter this year?
The Mystery of the Quote
Despite appearing in countless books and being carved into therapy office walls, no one has been able to find this exact phrasing in any of Frankl's writings. Scholars, researchers, and even the Viktor Frankl Institute have searched—it's not there.
The earliest known appearance is from Stephen Covey's The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (1989), where Covey attributes the idea to Frankl. But even Covey doesn't claim Frankl used these exact words—he's paraphrasing Frankl's core teaching.
So where did it come from? Most likely, it's a distillation of Frankl's philosophy by someone (possibly Covey himself) who deeply understood Frankl's work. It's not a direct quote—it's an interpretation. A summary. A crystallization of an idea Frankl spent decades explaining in more complex terms.
And honestly? It doesn't matter that Frankl didn't say it word-for-word. Because the idea is pure Frankl. It's the lesson he learned in Auschwitz and taught for the rest of his life. If anything, this "quote" is a perfect translation of his philosophy into a single, memorable sentence.
So let's focus on what matters: not who said it, but what it means and how it can transform your life.
Who Was Viktor Frankl?
Viktor Emil Frankl (1905–1997) was an Austrian neurologist, psychiatrist, and Holocaust survivor. But those bare facts don't capture the extraordinary life he lived.
Before World War II, Frankl was a rising figure in Viennese psychiatry. He studied under Alfred Adler (a contemporary of Freud), worked in suicide prevention, and was developing his own therapeutic approach focused on meaning rather than pleasure or power.
Then came 1942. Frankl, his wife Tilly, and his parents were deported to the Theresienstadt concentration camp. Over the next three years, Frankl was transferred through four camps, including Auschwitz and Dachau. His wife, parents, and brother all perished. He lost everything—his family, his life's work, a manuscript he'd been writing.
He survived. Barely. When American forces liberated his camp in 1945, Frankl weighed 80 pounds.
Within nine days of his liberation, he began writing. In a white-hot burst of clarity and purpose, he dictated the manuscript that would become Man's Search for Meaning—a book that has sold over 10 million copies, been translated into dozens of languages, and been named one of the most influential books in America.
What makes Man's Search for Meaning extraordinary is this: it's not a story about suffering. It's a story about what makes suffering bearable.
Frankl observed that in the camps, surrounded by unimaginable horror, some prisoners maintained their humanity while others collapsed. Some helped others with their last piece of bread; others turned savage. Some found reasons to keep living; others gave up.
The difference wasn't strength, luck, or optimism. The difference was meaning.
And the mechanism by which meaning gave people power? That space between stimulus and response.
The Real Meaning: You Always Have a Choice
Here's what Frankl discovered in the camps, and what he spent the rest of his life teaching:
No matter what happens to you, you retain the freedom to choose your response.
The Nazis could control everything about his external life—where he went, what he ate, whether he lived or died. But they could not control his inner life—his thoughts, his attitudes, his dignity, the meaning he assigned to his suffering—unless he let them.
Frankl writes in Man's Search for Meaning:
"Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."
This is the space. The gap. The moment between what happens to you and how you respond.
Most people don't know this space exists. They experience life as a direct chain: something bad happens → I feel terrible → I act out of that feeling. It feels automatic. Inevitable. Like there's no choice.
But there is. There's always a space, even if it's only a split second. And in that space lies your power.
Let's break down the three parts of the "quote" to understand what this really means:
1. "Between stimulus and response there is a space."
Stimulus: Something happens. Someone insults you. You lose your job. You get a diagnosis. Traffic makes you late. Your partner says something hurtful.
Response: What you do next. How you react. What you say. What meaning you make of it.
The space: The gap between the two. The moment—however brief—where you have the power to pause and choose.
Most people live as if there's no space. The stimulus triggers an automatic response: anger, fear, shame, revenge, collapse. It feels like the response is caused by the stimulus. They made me angry. The situation made me anxious. I had no choice.
But Frankl is saying: there's always a space. You just have to learn to find it.
2. "In that space is our power to choose our response."
This is where your freedom lives—not in controlling what happens to you (you can't), but in controlling what you do with what happens to you.
In the concentration camps, Frankl couldn't choose his circumstances. But he could choose:
- Whether to help a fellow prisoner or hoard his bread
- Whether to maintain his dignity or abandon it
- Whether to find meaning in his suffering or collapse into despair
- Whether to imagine a future where he'd teach others what he learned, or give up hope entirely
He writes:
"When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."
This isn't about "positive thinking" or "looking on the bright side." Frankl wasn't pretending the camps were pleasant. He was choosing to find meaning in the suffering—a purpose that made endurance worthwhile.
The power in the space isn't the power to avoid pain. It's the power to decide what your pain will mean and how you'll carry it.
3. "In our response lies our growth and our freedom."
This is the payoff. When you learn to use the space—to pause, reflect, and choose your response rather than reacting automatically—you become free.
Not free from circumstances. Free within circumstances. Free from being controlled by external events. Free to grow, learn, and become who you want to be, regardless of what life throws at you.
Frankl watched prisoners in the same horrific conditions respond in radically different ways. Some became bitter, cruel, broken. Others became saints—showing compassion, courage, and grace under unimaginable pressure.
Same stimulus. Different responses. Different outcomes.
The response determines who you become.
Why This Matters More Than Ever Today
You're not in a concentration camp. But the principle is the same, and the stakes—while different—are still high.
How much of your day is spent in reactive mode?
- Someone cuts you off in traffic → you rage
- Your boss criticizes you → you spiral into self-doubt
- You see something on social media → you feel inadequate
- Your partner forgets something → you pick a fight
- You get bad news → you catastrophize
- Someone disagrees with you → you feel attacked
Stimulus → automatic response. No space. No choice. No freedom.
You're being controlled by external events. Your mood, your peace, your sense of self—it's all outsourced to circumstances and other people.
That's not freedom. That's slavery.
Frankl is offering you an alternative: Learn to find the space. Learn to pause. Learn to choose.
Not once in a while, when you're calm and centered. But in the middle of chaos, when everything in you wants to react. That's when the space matters most.
How to Find the Space (Practical Strategies)
Knowing the space exists is step one. Actually using it is step two. Here are the most powerful techniques Frankl and modern psychology offer:
1. Name it to tame it (Affect Labeling)
When you feel a strong emotion rising, simply name it: "I'm feeling angry." "I'm noticing anxiety." "This is fear."
Neuroscience research shows that labeling an emotion reduces activity in the amygdala (your brain's threat center) and increases activity in the prefrontal cortex (your rational, decision-making center). You're literally creating the space by naming what's happening.
2. Take one conscious breath
Before you respond to a trigger, take one slow, deliberate breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That's it. Just one.
That single breath is the space. It interrupts the automatic stimulus-response chain. It gives your prefrontal cortex a chance to come back online.
You don't need to meditate for 20 minutes. You just need to breathe once, deliberately, before you act.
3. Ask: "What would the person I want to be do right now?"
Frankl's philosophy is built on the idea that you're always becoming someone. The question is: who?
When you're triggered, instead of asking "What do I feel like doing?" ask "What would my best self do in this moment?"
Angry at your partner? Your reactive self wants to snap back. But your best self might pause, listen, and speak calmly.
Anxious about a presentation? Your reactive self wants to avoid it. But your best self prepares and shows up anyway.
The space is where you choose which self wins.
4. Find the meaning (Logotherapy in Action)
Frankl's therapy, logotherapy, is built on one question: What is this situation asking of me?
Not "Why is this happening to me?" (which leads to victimhood) but "What does this moment require of me?" (which leads to purpose).
Lost your job? It's asking you to be resourceful, resilient, and open to new paths.
Facing illness? It's asking you to be courageous, to find meaning beyond your body, to discover what truly matters.
In conflict? It's asking you to be patient, to listen, to grow.
When you reframe challenges as calls to action—invitations to become someone stronger—you transform suffering into growth.
5. Practice in small moments first
Don't wait for a crisis to start using the space. Practice in low-stakes situations:
- Someone interrupts you → pause before responding
- You drop something → notice your reaction before reacting
- You're stuck in line → observe your impatience without acting on it
The more you practice finding the space in small moments, the more accessible it becomes in big ones.
The Deepest Truth: Meaning Makes Suffering Bearable
Here's what Frankl ultimately discovered, and why this "space" is so critical:
Suffering is inevitable. Meaning is optional. And meaning is what makes suffering bearable.
You can't avoid pain, loss, hardship, or death. But you can choose what those experiences mean. You can choose whether they destroy you or transform you.
Frankl writes:
"In some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice."
The space between stimulus and response is where you assign meaning. It's where you decide: This loss will break me or This loss will teach me. This challenge is proof I'm not enough or This challenge is an invitation to grow.
Same event. Different meaning. Different life.
A Final Thought: The Lesson from Auschwitz
Viktor Frankl endured hell. He lost his family, his freedom, his life's work. He was stripped of everything except one thing: his power to choose his inner response.
And that was enough. Not just to survive, but to find meaning, maintain dignity, and ultimately help millions of others do the same.
You're facing your own challenges—not concentration camps, but real suffering nonetheless. Loss. Rejection. Failure. Illness. Heartbreak. Uncertainty.
The question Frankl is asking you is this: Will you let circumstances control you, or will you use the space?
Because the space is always there. Even when life is overwhelming. Even when you feel powerless. Even when everything is falling apart.
Between stimulus and response, there is a space.
In that space is your power to choose.
And in your choice lies your freedom.
As Frankl wrote in Man's Search for Meaning:
"Those who have a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'."
Find the space. Choose your response. Discover your why.
That's the path to freedom. And it's available to you right now.