It's an attribute the British are famous for. It's also arguably one of our least attractive features. Cynicism: the tendency to look for the hidden agenda, the secret subtext; the worst in everything. We're routinely suspicious of motives, we're prone to distrust, especially when it comes to those in authority and leadership. And of course, we're absolutely delighted when our cynicism is proved well-placed.

Not only is cynicism seen as a very British attribute (though by no means limited to the Brits!), it's also synonymous with intellectualism and even the idea of 'cool'. Being cynical is so much more fashionable than taking things at face value. So much of our humour, our witty writing and our media is rooted in the idea that people and institutions are not what they seem; that all things are deeply flawed. And yes, that's true, but constantly pointing it out probably isn't doing us any good.

In fact, cynicism eats us from the inside. It is the very modern manifestation of what the Bible frequently calls 'hard-heartedness'. As we think and act cynically, we become increasingly cynical; the nature of the virtue is that it entrenches itself in our behaviour and character. Cynicism makes us more critical, more silver-tongued, less kind, less joyful. It's a poisonous pursuit which has an attritional effect on the soul; the more we allow it to fester, the more it wears us down. You rarely meet a truly happy cynic.

One might imagine that if the modern cultural paradigm is one of cynicism, then the church would be a place of refuge from all this negativity and unkindness. Yet of course, the problem is just as prevalent among Christians – especially those of us under 40 – as with everyone else. Far from being the people who consciously stand against cynicism, we willingly participate; turning the crosshairs of suspicion and negativity not only on the wider culture, but on our own too. Almost all of us are cynical about another part of the Body of Christ; we all have leaders, writers or other individuals about whom we quietly (or not so quietly) allow ourselves a little chuckle of disdain.

Of course, not all criticism is bad. Discernment – telling the difference between a good and a false or poorly-motivated leader – is a spiritual gift. If we all walked around taking things at face value then we'd never weed out the wolves from among the sheep; gifted, well-intentioned leaders would be drowned out by the voices of the platform hunters. Good, robust, honest critique is essential for a thriving church. The problem is that the journey from Godly discernment to earthly cynicism is a short one.

Believe me, I know. After nearly 15 years in journalism, it's sometimes hard to stay on the right side of that line. I've held serious concerns about individuals, like the fraudulent evangelist whose story took 10 years to be proved false. I've also questioned the inner workings of Christian organisations when I've not seen much of Christ reflected in them. In both cases I was labeled a cynic. In fact I was demonstrating discernment, yet ironically I also know how prone I am to cynicism about exactly these kinds of situations.

The Bible contains its fair share of cynics of course, and it isn't positive about any of them. From the Israelites who start to lose faith in Moses' leadership ("would that we had died by the Lord's hand in Egypt, when we sat by the pots of meat" [Exodus 16:3]), to the religious leaders in Luke 20:20-26 who are more interested in catching Jesus out than listening to what he is actually saying. And are there any more cynical figures in the Bible than Job's famously long-winded advisors, whose apathy and unforgiving attitude could so easily drag that book's titular character down?

Apathy and an unwillingness to forgive those who've hurt us are two of the root causes of the problem. Ultimately though, cynicism is really born out of our own poor self-image. As we struggle with the flaws in our own personality – the mismatches between the person we try to put across to others, and the person we are when no-one is looking – we turn the spotlight onto others and judge them by our own standards. It's just easier to point out the specks of sawdust in our brothers' and sisters' eyes than it is to acknowledge the plank in our own.

This means that actually addressing the problem is no easy task. We're naturally defensive of anything which means addressing the flaws deep in our own character, and thanks to our cynical predisposition to deflection, we're prone to simply laughing it off. Even this article will cause many to ask "who does he think he is?"

All I am is someone who doesn't want to be this way anymore. I want to recognise that cynicism comes from my own brokenness, not other people's. I don't want to be poisoned by the soul-churning effects of seeing the worst in others. I want to be kinder, more joyful, and characterised by hope. Perhaps deep down, you want that too.

So how do we start? The first step is acknowledging where the real problem lies, which is more often with us than with the people we seek to critique. When we pull down the ambitious, it's usually because of our own unfulfilled ambitions. When we sneer at the happy, the successful or even the generous, it's often because we recognise our own weakness in these areas. Being self-aware enough to recognise this, and being committed to changing it, is the first step toward disarming cynicism. It's vital, if we want to become less cynical, that we ask God to help us with our own self-esteem. As part of that, there may be people who we need to forgive; after all, it's hard to see the best in someone who we feel has wronged us.

Next, we should recognise and re-embrace some of the virtues that we often look down upon. Earnestness, encouragement, words of kindness and affirmation. Instead of seeing these as tell-tale signs that someone is being fake, our first thought should imagine positive intentions. As part of that, it's useful to identify some of the people and institutions about whom we often feel feelings of suspicion or cynicism, and begin to actively look for things about them that we can affirm and agree with.

Finally though, the clearest way to change an aspect of our character is to begin behaving differently. Asking for God's help as we do, we should look to reject the impulse toward cynicism, and instead embrace encouragement, kindness, and practicing unconditional love even to those we find it hard to like. Jesus asks those who follow him to serve and submit to all (Mark 9:35), so if we really want to fight cynicism, we might even seek to put first the agendas and ambitions of those whose agendas and ambitions we feel conflicted about.

Cynicism isn't cool. It isn't actually half as clever as we might think, and it certainly isn't harmless. Cynicism is a barrier both to our unconditional, Christ-imitating love of others, and also our own growth as disciples and well-rounded human beings. It's so easy to be dismissive about such a challenge, especially from a self-confessed struggler in this area. Perhaps though, deep down, you know it's a part of you that you're desperate to change. So fight the cynicism monster and address your own hard-heartedness. Jesus calls us to a higher standard than this; let's live up to it.

Martin Saunders is a Contributing Editor for Christian Today and the Deputy CEO of Youthscape. You can follow him on Twitter: @martinsaunders