Imposter syndrome is he province of the successful, of the high-achievers, of the perfectionists. That’s the irony.
Kate Hilton
I am at a time in my PhD, but also in my life, when it is time for me to start thinking about answering the big question everyone is asking: “What’s next?”. Why is it that you are always supposed to know what you want to do in advance? Why does everybody expect you to have it all figure out in advance? And for once, knowing what I don’t want does not really help me knowing what I do want… So here I am, standing at a crossroad. I’ve removed one option, but it wasn’t a “either or” sort of situation. That crossroad presents a lot (and I mean A LOT) of potential paths, some going in radically different directions, while others look different, but I have a feeling they might end up joining later on on the way. And I have no idea which one to follow. I have a general idea of what I could potentially do (guess it’s the thing about being adaptable with transferable skills) but let me tell you that does not give me one hint as to what I would actually want to do. Oh, and like most young academics, I struggle with a vivid imposter syndrome.
The imposter syndrome is not an “academic-only” delight. Everyone knowing a success under one form (e.g., academic, professional) or another (e.g., personal) is susceptible to experience it at one time or another. It is the feeling that you are a fraud. That any moment someone might peak under the surface and find out that you do not belong where you are. It is the sensation that who you are is well build paper armour that someone might pierce and expose you to the world. It is the fear that people will realise that who you are is not who you pretend to be. It is usually associated with your professional self. You feel like it is all a big mistake and you shouldn’t even be here because really what really gives you the right to act the way you do. A perpetual battle between your rational-self and your subjective-self. You are aware of your accomplishments, but you still think it is all luck.
Wonderful feeling, isn’t it?
The imposter syndrome was first described in the 1970s when 2 US clinical psychologists (Dr Pauline Clance and Dr Suzanne Imes) and was mainly attributed to high-achieving women who felt they cheated their way to success and feared to be exposed. But make no mistakes – men can also suffer from similar fears. A recent study actually revealed that under pressure, “imposter” men and women react quite differently. When put in difficult situations, women with high imposter syndrome tend to show adaptive behaviours, increase their efforts and show high performance. In contrast, men with high imposter syndromes seemed to present higher anxiety and reduce their efforts, leading to poorer performance. And even more so when put in a situation with higher accountability, i.e. when in presence of a higher-ranking peer compared to a stranger. The researchers interpreted this in light of social norms and gender expectations. In our societies, men feel like they have bigger shoes to fill, and even though they try they feel like they do not fully reach the standards. So instead of risking being called out on their lack of competencies, they use “self-handicapping” strategies, reducing their efforts allowing them to later use this as an excuse to explain poor performance. However, cultural expectations regarding women value warmth above competency; in a way, they have less to lose to try their best and risk failure, as “nothing” was expected of them in the first place. How heart-warming really…
Luckily for us all, the imposter syndrome has been studied for quite sometimes now and people definitely most qualified than me (because, who isn’t?) came up with some ways to manage the voice in our heads and reduce (at least temporarily) those feelings. First, acknowledging you’re not alone in that boat; we don’t usually talk about it in public, keeping it for some selected ears, but it affects a lot of people, if not everybody. Then, listen to the rational part of your brain that reminds you of all that you’ve accomplish so far. And if you can, try translate that in down-to-earth abilities: what does it mean about who you are and what can you do? Third, talk about what you do with people from different field or more junior in your branch; you’ll come to realise you know more than what you think. Or go to conferences if you’re an academic and embrace the realisation you know the literature people are referring to or the references they are using. Fourth, when entering a new position, know that people don’t expect you to perform right away; there is always an adaptation period for you to understand what is expected of you and learn your way around. Fifth, don’t expect instantaneous success each time you attempt something new, embrace the learning curve and keep track of your progress more than track of your success. Realise how far you’ve come. Finally, don’t try to get rid of every shred of imposter feeling, they keep in grounded and protect you from egomania…
I think I’ve let my rational self out for long enough, it is time for me to crawl back under my blanket and contemplate the blank page that is the next chapter of my life. It is full of hope and dreams and potential... and it is incredibly scary. It is my chance to truly reflect on what I want, what I don’t want, and find the job out there that matches my dreams. Delusion, hope, or unconscious knowledge? Only time will tell I guess.
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