Who am I fooling?

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From Garfield Minus Garfield.


In high school, I always felt like the dullest of the bright kids. Even though I made it into a number of AP and honors classes and held my own, I always felt like I didn't quite belong. "I'm not as smart as these people; what am I doing here?"

By 2001 I had my diploma in hand, indicating that I had survived high school, and I headed off to college. It was a struggle almost from the very start, and now that I am reaching the end of my tortuous university experience I realize that I never shook that old feeling from the days of my secondary education. I still feel like I'm the dullest of the smart kids.

Even though I have accomplished more during the past year than I had in the preceding six, I almost feel like those accomplishments aren't really mine. They seem more like a series of flukes than real achievements (which can make it difficult to remember them when I have to write up a CV). Even when I am initially proud of my efforts, I eventually fall back into feeling that they are relatively insignificant.

It is difficult to pin down why I have these paradoxical feelings about what I do. I spend a lot of time writing and researching, and I definitely feel it is worth the effort. At the same time, my appraisal of my own work often goes beyond modesty; I wonder if I am fooling people into thinking I am more intelligent than I really am, and one day I will be found out.

The book I am working on is a good example of this. I have poured myself into it, but I am nervous about the prospect of getting it published. What if, in trying to demonstrate my abilities, I really show how I don't know a thing about what I claim to know? In trying to stand tall, I could wind up flat on my face. This goes beyond plain anxiety, and it can be a crippling variety of self-deprecation.

This is particularly troubling as I ponder my academic future (if I have one at all). I already feel like I'm less qualified than just about anyone else for internships or graduate school positions, and my penchant for undervaluing myself doesn't help. Mrs. Laelaps usually has to remind me to sell myself, because on my own I don't have much confidence in my own abilities.

Some of the faculty I have met have not been of much assistance in this regard. Given that I do not have an impeccable transcript (far from it), I have tried to find other ways to undertake research, gain experience, or otherwise make some progress towards becoming a scientist. The responses I have usually received have been along the lines of "No one studies that. You shouldn't waste your time with it," or "Science doesn't seem to be for you. Maybe you should be a writer instead." There has been one notable exception, someone who tried to help me get into a field relevant to my interests, but ultimately we failed because of bureaucratic red tape.

Despite all this, I am not giving up. The thought of dropping out, giving up on what has frustrated and upset me for so long, has crossed my mind more than a few times, but I know it isn't going to help me. For years I worked in one "name tag" job or another, from waiting tables to stocking shelves in a department store warehouse, and I don't want to return to a life of "team huddles" and having my worth measured by the number of margaritas I sell.

Still, I don't know what I'm going to do. What I have done so far seems insignificant, and it is difficult to see how I can get from where I am to where I want to be. The feeling that I am an impostor is not going to suddenly disappear, but I am trying not to let it crush me to the point where I give up the few things I truly enjoy. I have too many questions about nature to simply drop them, but in chasing the answers I may have to get out of my own way.

[This essay was inspired by the comments left yesterday on the Richard Gilder Graduate School post.]

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You're not alone, Brian. Check out Female Science Professor's post which includes this gem: "By writing it down, they are making a record of their words and thoughts in a more permanent way, and what they write might be read by other people -- perhaps a group of very wise and judgmental people somewhere out there in the scientific universe. This group is in possession of a large stamp that says LOSER. If you write something less than perfect, even in a first draft, they put a giant red LOSER stamp in permanent ink next to your name and you are forever labeled as stupid. They might even write to your mother. The only one who will still think you are clever is your dog. By writing, you are baring your soul, perhaps with long-term consequences, and overcoming a fear of that means being willing to "expose" yourself to others."

I know so many wonderful, brilliant people who feel that they are impostors. I feel that way too, but of course I am neither wonderful or brilliant. It's just something I have in common with wonderful, brilliant people.

Oh, great. All these years I've been worried about my CV, my impact factor, my ability to teach, the chances of selling my science-fiction novel. . . and now you make me realize I HAVE NEVER SOLD A MARGARITA. Thanks. Thanks a bloody lot.

;-)

Brian, thank you very much for posting this. Much of what you say here I could have easily said myself, about myself. And I just posted about my current miseries on my site and am worried that I'm just whining.

You ain't whining here. These are legitimate concerns and seeing them discussed honestly makes it easier to confront them. Now I'm gonna say a few things. It'll sound like I'm trying to be an authority -- but they've helped me.

Valuing yourself based on intellectual competition is a bad habit. (I've spent weeks moping over the results of an online IQ test.) Don't expect to get shed of it any time soon but learn to recognize that it's kind of ridiculous. There is more to you than your intellect (which, believe me, is both obvious and respectable). Your photography, just as an example, clearly shows that you have your own vision. Intellect is just part of the package -- learn to integrate everything you've got.

There are people you trust, like Mrs. Laelaps. Their judgment of you is what counts. You can't help judging yourself -- but you need to recognize that you're not very good at it. You have a negative bias. Be aware of this.

Similarly with your work. You aren't the one who gets to judge it. The world will do that. It's your job to give the world a chance to make that judgment. And even that doesn't really reflect the worth of what you've done.

Ask yourself if your negativity has a positive effect on your life -- would you strive the way you do without it? What purpose does your shadow side serve in your life? Where did it come from? How can you harness it to your own use? (Said the horror writer.)

Here's an apothegm for you.

"Self-esteem is for the self-satisfied. The self-propelled are insecure."

I feel the same way at times. I'm often afraid to delve deep into discussions about certain things with people* simply because my confidence level in my own ability to argue a point is quite low. It's a self-confidence thing, topped off with a bit of the old adage: "the more you know, the more you realize how little you know". Having good friends and family around to encourage you is a big help. Another "booster" - something I often have to force myself to notice - is that other people have the same issues, although some of them simply pretend that they don't. As careful as I am about not appearing to over-extend my own range of knowledge, certain other people seem to have no problem doing so, quite unabashedly. Acknoledging that some people (who can initially come accross as knowledgeable) clearly have no idea what they are talking about can be a real confidence booster =)

*I hang out with a lot of university graduates and doctorates - due to some lengthy personal problems I've never completed a degree myself, although I read quite a bit.

By Justin Wagner (not verified) on 29 Oct 2008 #permalink

I think I prefer the term "Fraud complex"

welcome to the club... don't let anyone find out! ;-)

as far as what to do about it, on the one side, it's occasionally nice to have someone else catalog your accomplishments, as they tend to list a large number of things that you think are unimportant. on the other hand it can be very depressing to find out what other's expectations of you actually are. that is, that they don't expect much. the hardest thing about impostor syndrome or fraud complex is not letting yourself sink to other peoples levels of expectations. the further danger is suddenly elevating another's expectation of you without elevating the compensation. (emotional, monetary, whatever...) which is why you need to go back to step one again and have someone else provide the catalog of your accomplishments. It sounds very self serving, (because it is!) but every so often I get my boss to list off what he thinks I'm doing, (and doing well.) It always amazes me to hear the things that he lists off that I think are totally immaterial. It doesn't really help when I'm overcome with the feelings of abject failure that arise from a project, but it can be a pleasant ego stroke nonetheless...

ick, now I feel so shallow...

I've been there, too, pretty often, and yet I managed to get an MA that taught me more than I even realized that I was learning when I was taking it, and now I'm in a great PhD program. I still struggle with that same self-doubt, but my advice (for what it's worth) is to let that doubt motivate you, when you can, to exceed your own expectations - you're only here once, so why not try to make it what you want it to be, even if you think that you can't? It's worked reasonably well for me.

Hey man. I'm a freshman in college and I read your blog regularly as an aspiring science student with a strong love for Paleontology. I was recommended your blog (along with a couple others) a while ago by a guy in the same music scene as me when I decided to go to school for it. I love your posts and would hate to see you give up on this. Don't give up now!

Look at it this way: even if your assessment of yourself is 100% accurate, it's still a hell of a lot better to be the dullest of the bright kids than the brightest of the dull kids.

Also, this sort of self-criticism is a good indication that you are one of the bright ones, since the dull ones are absolutely incapable of critical self-evaluation. Only if you honestly thought yourself to be brilliant, eloquent, and unerring should you worry about being considered by others to be a dumb ass. The more wrong someone is, the more smug and prideful they seem to be about it.

I've battled with this all my life. I would describe myself as "above average" in lots of things, but not great at any of them. After dealing with horrible anxiety related to my fear of being found out as a "fraud", I came up with a phrase to take on as a kind of personal philosophy: If you're not in over your head, you're not learning anything. Since learning is probably my biggest driving force, this has been a strong motivator for me, even though it rang hollow in my own ears at first.

My wife says a lot of the same things about herself. She's wrong, of course, she's very good at what she does. Many people who are considered the best in their fields also say this about themselves. The apparent emotional sadism in academia doesn't help, either. Hang in there. You've got talent and a love of the subject. You've also got time. There's no law that says you have to be a professor by 25. Something will fall into place.

"In high school, I always felt like the dullest of the bright kids."

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel about like that.

Please keep at it. Or you'll wind up like me, who chose to listen to those nagging doubts, and wound up with nothing at all to show for the time, effort, and money expended.

I graduated high school nineth in a class of 28. I received my BS whilst on scholastic probation. I'm now an Emeritus Professor with a professional history which pleases me to contemplate (could have been better, of course). I have noticed a fair number of people, smarter, better educated, and harder working, who have not come close to my accomplishments.

My father had a favorite saying, "If you don't use your head, you just make it hard on your ass."

My secret of success is that I am lazy. Therefore I follow my father's dictum; plan and scheme to accomplish things I want in the most efficent way possible, then do what is necessary. Secondly, I think life is supposed to be fun, so I try to find the fun in whatever my circumstances are.

By Jim Thomerson (not verified) on 29 Oct 2008 #permalink

don't worry about it, brian. some of us really ARE imposters: we can't get a fucking job doing anything, even selling margaritas, to save our lives!

Step 1: Identify people you'd like to study under

Step 2: Contact them and tell them you'd like to be their student, show them your blog, maybe tell them you're writing a book, tell them what you're interested in

Step 3: Apply to graduate school

Step 4: Go to graduate school

Put another away--- who are you fooling? All of your readers. Why is that? Because you've got what it takes. I for one will be disapointed if I don't see a list here on where you're applying soon.

-Kris

(PS-- Have you thought about UIowa?)

By Kris Rhodes (not verified) on 29 Oct 2008 #permalink

When I've been at the lowest of low points in my desire to continue on, what has kept me going is my interest in various subjects. It's probably the same with you, I'm guessing. You have it in you - you won't be able to quit regardless of your personal evaluation of yourself.

I'm also reminded of something UK comedian Alan Davies said about UK comedian/writer/director/polymath/popularizer Stephen Fry, something like "Stephen's breadth of knowledge is vast but, lucky for us, his lack of self-confidence keeps him from being intimidating." (The exact quote can be heard in the BBC documentary about Fry, "Fifty Not Out")

"No one studies that. You shouldn't waste your time with it," or "Science doesn't seem to be for you. Maybe you should be a writer instead."

OR: "No one studies that! You should look into it." or "Science seems to be for you. Maybe you should write a thesis."

Apply, apply, apply. You're one of the smartest people I know and I know some pretty damn smart people.

The more wrong someone is, the more smug and prideful they seem to be about it.

Congratulations, HH, you have just hit on the perfect description Sarah Palin.

Thanks for the comments/anecdotes/advice/words of support, everyone.

I wrote this because I thought it might strike a chord with a fair number of readers, because (as John W. pointed out) it seems to happen to everyone at one point or another.

Wow, Laelaps. Way to play to my insecurities. :) We all get imposter syndrome. My advisor even admitted to me that sometimes she wonders when they're going to haul her away. And she's a brilliant scientist. I felt exactly the same way in high school and college. My transcript was also not so stellar, and my mentor was not sanguine about my getting into graduate school. It turns out I got the #1 offer at two excellent graduate schools. And I still get horrible imposter syndrome. Believe Mrs. Laelaps. And when in doubt, you know what you know, and though there may be some who know more, there are a bunch who know a whole lot less. Have confidence in what you know, admit it when you don't know, and be eager to learn new things, and no one will be able to call you a loser. I'm sure you will go awesome places.

One thing that provides a concrete sense of how much I have advanced (which was one expression of my feelings of being an Imposter) was to re-read a book that I read many years earlier and remember was especially daunting.

For me, after I graduated with my BA, I worried I had not really learned anything substantial during my undergraduate career. One day browsing the books at the local library I picked up a copy of Gould's The Mismeasure of Man which I had tried to read as a high schooler. In high school, I was amazed at all the big words and spent plenty of time with the dictionary looking up words I did not know. When I recently re-read it, I found that there was nothing particularly difficult about the book.

This provided me a great sense of comfort that I was actually just incorrect in believing that I had learned nothing during my career (and the learning came while I was majoring in something tangential to the subject matter of Gould's book).

I don't know how easily you can recall a book (or article) that you remember to be difficult to read or comprehend, but re-reading those articles certainly provides some re-assurance of how much you've actually learned. That concrete feeling of success can be used to fuel further learning with less of a impending feeling of failure and doom.

Brian,

Though I'm not a biologist, I'm rather impressed by the talents you display on this blog. Your posts are always interesting and clearly written, and I'm really looking forward for your book. Except that I already have too many books, but that's another story. By delving in those old science books, you seem to be developing a personal area of expertise that I find very interesting. And you're a good photographer too. I've heard about this "imposter syndrom", and several people around me seem to be afflicted with it (my wife and myself included). This special brand of psychological fragility is not at all uncommon; and I got the feeling that your academic environment is a little difficult, which surely doesn't make things easier. It seems to me that generally, the people affflicted tend to actually be competent. They believe that they know better than others about themselves, but this is actually an illusion (being harsh with yourself may be felt as an illusion of lucidity).

So, in short, you're being read by people who are not idiots, who have no personal ties with you that would prevent them from hurting your pride; and yet they seem to think rather highly of what you do and what you're able to do.

And talk to the cats about it: if they say you're great, you should believe them. Cats are seldom wrong.

By Christophe Thill (not verified) on 03 Nov 2008 #permalink