At first, it might seem that one could escape bad faith by making a sincere, deep commitment to something and abiding by that commitment—for example, a total, resolute engagement of the self comparable to Kierkegaard’s notion of an “infinite passion”. In this regard, Sartre considers a person who tries to wholeheartedly believe that his friend really likes him. “I believe it”, he says, “I decide to believe in it and maintain myself in this decision…” (Sartre 1992a [1943]: 114).  My belief will be steady and solid, like something “in itself” that informs my being and cuts through all the tenuousness and unsteadiness of my subjective life. I know I believe it, I will say. If I could make myself believe something in this way, then to achieve this might be what we could call “good faith:” to actually be something, without the questionability of the “not” creeping in. However, Sartre doubts that such an absolute, being-determining commitment is possible. In fact, Sartre claims that any such sort of “good faith” would actually amount to little more than another form of self-deception. For if my decision to believe is in fact a decision, it must always be something that to some extent distances me from what is decided. That is why we use the word ‘believe’ to imply some degree of uncertainty, as when we say, “Is he my friend?  Well, I believe he is”. Lucid self-awareness shows us that in making a choice, we can never attain the condition of the “in itself”, because what we are is always in question for us. This is what Sartre means when he says human being is always “previously corrupted” and that “bad faith [always] reapprehends good faith” (Sartre 1992a [1943]: 116). Thus, the project of being in good faith seems impossible, as we are always necessarily in bad faith.