The Secret Thoughts of Successful Women: Why Capable People Suffer from the Impostor Syndrome and How to Thrive in Spite of It

by Valerie Young

  Still, men are more likely not only to exaggerate their abilities but to fabricate them altogether when necessary. Partly it has to do with the awareness that the door of opportunity can close quickly. That’s why, Brosnan said, “[you] have to be as tough as old boots.” When they ask, “ ‘Do you sing?’ Of course I sing. ‘Do you sky-dive?’ Of course I do. ‘Do you fight?’ Yeah. ‘Are you a lover?’ Are you kidding?” It’s not so much about “faking it,” he said, as it is about being “prepared”—and, once again, trusting in your ability to figure it out as you go along.

  As you learned in chapter 6, the assumption that you have to know everything before you can consider yourself competent is a big reason why you (and a lot of other people) walk around feeling like a clueless fraud. Nothing could be further from the truth. In a spot-on blog post titled “No One Knows What the F*ck They’re Doing (or ‘The 3 Types of Knowledge’),”10 Steve Schwartz breaks down knowledge into three categories (he’s since added a few more, but these are the basics):

  Sh*t you know

  Sh*t you know you don’t know

  Sh*t you don’t know you don’t know

  The people who you’re certain are so much more confident and able are actually no more knowledgeable or capable than you are, says Schwartz. It’s just that instead of dwelling on the second category, non-impostors have figured out that most knowledge falls into the third category, stuff you don’t know you don’t know. The big difference between you and them, he says, is that “they realize it’s okay to not know everything, but strive to nonetheless.” In other words, they’re comfortable with not knowing. If you know you have the basic ability to figure out what you don’t know, then there’s no reason not to raise your hand. In other words, it’s not lying if you know there’s a better-than-average chance you can ultimately back it up.

  What about you? Are there situations where you could benefit from engaging in a bit of harmless posturing? Assuming you see the value in “acting as if” in these kinds of situations, can you pinpoint what stops you? Is it fear of breaking the rules? Worry that you really don’t have what it takes to back it up? Afraid they’ll find you out?

  Obviously, for someone to call your bluff about something you purport to know or do only heightens the precariousness you already feel. But if you really embraced the idea that you are both capable of figuring things out as you go along and that with obvious exceptions it really is okay to do so, it would change everything.

  All you have to do is think of a situation where the ability to fake it till you make it would come in handy. Now imagine what it would be like if you really believed that you don’t have to know everything ahead of time. How would you feel if you enjoyed unlimited faith in your ability to wing it a bit? What would you do differently? If you still can’t imagine it, then run, don’t walk, back to chapter 6 and reread the Natural Genius and Rugged Individualist portions of the Competence Rule Book for Mere Mortals.

  “It Feels Like Getting Away with Something”

  While BSing is not, by definition, synonymous with lying, Frankfurt says that the bullshitter is trying to get away with something. Here again, men may have an advantage. Even though they respect the rules, males are always looking for new and creative ways to test the rules without getting caught by the official. Breaking the rules without getting caught is considered part of the fun of the game. So if you’re playing a game and the ball is a little bit out, if you think you can get away with it, you can call it in. This tracks with what a male coworker once told me: “Some mistakes really only matter if you get caught,” he said. “It’s like sports. If the official didn’t see you step on the line, then it didn’t happen.”

  Girls are socialized to be concerned with fairness and openness. If you do something wrong, you apologize. Boys get a different message. They learn that saying “I’m sorry” is a sign of weakness. With women it’s just the opposite. In fact, it doesn’t matter if no one catches us, because we’ll turn ourselves in! Over the years I’ve heard scores of stories from women about these kinds of “true confessions.” One had cowritten a book with her husband. At the start of every book signing she’d announce that they’d found some typos and the book was being reprinted. “The third time I did it my husband pulled me aside and said, ‘Stop telling them that!’ ”

  Then there was the researcher who told of being flabbergasted to receive a call congratulating her on being singled out for an award. “There must be some mistake,” she said. Believing there were so many more “worthy” candidates to choose from, she actually suggested that the selection committee might want to reconsider. When the caller assured her that they’d spent months arriving at their decision, she replied, “Then a few more days won’t hurt anything.”

  You certainly don’t have to adopt the more male model of covering for yourself. Be aware, though, that this other extreme is not exactly ideal either. I’m not suggesting that you hide mistakes as a matter of course—especially not ones that have serious consequences for other people or your organization. However, there really are some harmless foul-ups that are just not serious enough to warrant blowing the whistle on yourself. For males, this ability—whether on the ball field or the dating field—is considered a badge of honor. Women, on the other hand, tend to like to go “by the book,” especially on the job. For you, breaking the rules is going to provoke guilt, not pride.

  You may also be wary that someone is trying to pull a fast one. On the consumer level, women are more suspicious of anything they consider marketing hype. I’ve seen many female business owners fail because they self-righteously refuse to take advantage of perfectly legitimate marketing tactics, for example, creating the appearance of success, for fear of being seen as misleading. To fake it till you make it feels like you’re somehow cheating (something it’s been found that people with the impostor syndrome are actually less likely to do). You think, Better to avoid any kind of fakery than to risk being accused of getting away with something.

  Here too, cheating is in the eye of the beholder. The same behavior men consider a skill you’re apt to see as evidence of your inadequacy. “People raved about my presentation,” said one ad executive. “But all I could think was, ‘If they only knew that was really just a bunch of bullshit I threw together at the last minute, they wouldn’t think I was so great.’ ” If you work well under pressure, rather than responding to kudos by thinking, Fooled them again, instead think, I’m really good at pulling together useful information in a short period of time. That really is a skill and that’s no bull. In fact, in the next chapter you’ll meet some people who’ve launched their entire career by bending the rules.

  As an achiever you may be bothered by the fact that there’s a certain degree of laziness in acting like you know more than you really do. More than simple carelessness or inattention to detail, Frankfurt says, it’s the idea that in trying to get away with something, one isn’t really trying. If you are a perfectionist, a workaholic, or a by-the-book type, then not bothering to put in the effort can be a turn-off in and of itself.

  At least it was for National Public Radio senior news analyst Daniel Schorr. As a college student in New York City in 1930, he aspired to be a music critic. On his way to meet the renowned New York Times music critic Olan Downes, Schorr read a review Downes had written of the previous evening’s New York Philharmonic concert. Of the soloist Joseph Segetti, Downes wrote, “Segetti’s tone was his usual impeccable but the profile of the tone left something to be desired.” Schorr panicked. “What the hell does that mean? I mean, this guy has a level of [understanding of] music I’ll never reach.” So he asked his new mentor what his critique meant. That’s when, Schorr said, Downes “put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Boy, don’t let that kind of thing worry you. That’s the bullshit that you write when you’re on deadline.’ ” That’s the day, Schorr laughingly said, that he decided, “music criticism was not a respectable career.”11

 
; What about you? Have you ever gone to the other extreme and volunteered more information than was necessary? Perhaps you’ve pointed out flaws in your work no one would have otherwise noticed, or you focused everyone’s attention on what you don’t know rather than on what you do. If so, stop unnecessarily turning yourself in. Instead, the next time you’re tapped for something that feels out of your league or someone compliments your work—even if you know it could be improved—say “Thank you.” Then zip it.

  Are you letting a concern that you might be “getting away with something” prevent you from occasionally pretending to know more than you do? If so, look for contradictions in your belief system. It’s easy to take a strong stand against faking it when men do it. However, is your opinion about “getting away with things” more flexible when it occurs in a more classically female context, like trying to appear thinner, or younger, or otherwise presenting an image of yourself that is not entirely true?

  Are You a Confidence Snob?

  It’s easy to be critical of self-important jerks and male confidence run amok. At the same time, you may also have a built-in bias against people who are “too” confident, even when they can back it up. And it doesn’t take much to trip women’s anti-ego meter—including mine. Some years ago I consulted with the CEO of a company that sold day planners. Sheila’s major competitor at the time was Franklin Covey—Covey being Stephen Covey, who wrote the mega-bestselling book The 7 Habits of Highly Successful People. The CEO had been approached by an up-and-coming speaker named Jim who was pitching himself as her company’s spokesperson. I’d actually seen Jim present, and he really was quite good but not yet spokesperson material. He’d also self-published a book, but his few hundred sales were no comparison to Covey’s millions.

  None of this dissuaded the supremely confident Jim as he repeatedly painted his competitor as a fading star and himself a rising one. “He’s like Jack Nicklaus and I’m like Tiger Woods,” he crowed, a declaration that instantly prompted Sheila and me to trade “Oh, brother” glances. The third time Jim compared his minor record to that of a publishing icon, it was all I could do to not go all Lloyd Bentsen on him.12

  Unfortunately for Jim, this kind of über confidence typically doesn’t play well with female audiences. Had he been making his pitch to a couple of men, it’s entirely possible that Jim would have gotten the job. But he wasn’t, so he didn’t. As it turned out, the real joke was on us. While women like Sheila and me sit on our high horses, men like Jim are off to the races. I know because ten years later the supremely confident Jim has a new book that’s selling like gangbusters. And among the impressive celebrity book endorsements is one from his old rival Stephen Covey!

  What about you? Are you similarly intolerant of any behavior that strikes you as “too confident”? If so, you may want to check your anti-ego meter. You certainly don’t need to cultivate a supersized ego to beat the impostor syndrome or to fake it till you make it. But what if you bumped it up just a notch? True, Jim is still not a household name. Yet somehow his vision of being the next Stephen Covey is not as far-fetched as it once sounded.

  Of course ego alone will take you only so far. The rest comes down to hard work. However, I have to believe that Jim’s effort was propelled by his belief that he was a rising star. You’re probably never going to let yourself become an egomaniac, so why not allow yourself to fake a little more confidence than you feel and see where it takes you?

  Faking it till you make it does not mean you have to choose between self-doubt and self-righteousness or modesty and puffery. You can speak with measured confidence without being self-important. Indeed, after you sift out the arrogance, condescension, and presumptiveness that are such turn-offs to women, you may find, as Jane Campbell suggests, that there are certain aspects of male answer syndrome that women can actually learn from.

  For example, there’s something appealing, she says, about being able to bring a kind of “expansiveness” to what the questioner is actually asking. Whereas a woman may “shrug helplessly, acknowledging that some things are simply unknowable,” Campbell says, “a man, on the other hand, will come up with a few theories.” She adds, “Men have the courage and inventiveness to try to explain the inexplicable.”

  It’s the same way with “bullshitting.” Frankfurt too used the term “expansive,” explaining that the creativity that goes into bullshitting is less analytical and deliberate than what’s required to come up with a lie. The reason men enjoy getting together to “shoot the bull” in the first place is that everyone knows not to take anything that’s said too seriously. It’s hard not to smile when you hear that American frontiersman Daniel Boone once insisted, “I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks.”

  At the Very Least, Know It When You Hear It

  It bears repeating: You absolutely do not need to become a bullshit artist to overcome the impostor syndrome. But at the very least, I want you to know it when you hear it. Otherwise you will walk around thinking everyone but you has a clue. It happens far more often than you may think. Incredibly capable individuals falter in their careers because they don’t recognize BS when they see it. It almost happened to Angela.

  The bright but insecure Guatemalan American was the first person in her immigrant family to graduate from high school. When I met her, Angela was studying for a Ph.D. in a new form of math so obscure that there was no known application for it yet. For those of us who struggled with basic geometry, this alone is bewildering. But Angela was not the typical math student. Her highest-level math class in high school was Algebra II. Yet here she was, only one of two students in the entire university studying in this area. “Math always came easily to me,” she told me. “I could just see the answers in my head.”

  Apart from their shared aptitude for math, Angela and the other student could not have been more different. He was as confident as Angela was hesitant, evidenced by his penchant for explaining his calculations by saying things like “Of course” and “As we all know” and “Obviously.” One day when it was Angela’s turn to present, her professor began peppering her with questions. Most she could answer but some she could not. Heat rushed to her face. She couldn’t think clearly. Finally she burst into tears and bolted out the door. That was the day Angela decided she was not graduate school material and promptly called her family to announce that she was dropping out.

  She would have too had her professor not bothered to track her down. “What’s going on?” he asked. Angela tried to explain how inadequate she was compared with her clearly more capable counterpart. That’s when the professor stopped her cold. “Wait a minute,” he said. “You don’t actually think he always knows what he’s talking about, do you? Half the time he’s bullshitting.” (If you had no clue it’s possible to fake it in math, you’re not alone!)

  Angela’s story is a painful reminder of how easy it is to confuse confidence for credibility. Fortunately for Angela, someone took the time to provide an alternative view that would prove perspective shifting. When I tracked Angela down some years later, she said, “Where I thought I looked bad for admitting when I failed to grasp a concept, my professor made the distinction between the other student skirting a question and my maintaining intellectual integrity. I now listen very differently.”

  Even highly educated people joke that “Ph.D.” really stands for “piled higher and deeper.” Still, if you work with the well educated or in an occupation where you just expect a certain kind of professionalism, then you may not be on the lookout for it. You may assume that the more a person knows, the less he might need to rely on bullshitting as a means to get by. But to hear Harry Frankfurt tell it, the opposite may be true. “Not only do more highly educated people have the linguistic and intellectual gifts that enable them to create bullshit,” he said in a videotaped interview, “but also I think that a lot of people who are highly educated acquire a kind of arrogance that leads them to be negligent about truth
and falsity. They have a lot of confidence in their own opinions.”13

  And where better to find large groups of highly educated people than in higher education, where, some believe, intellectual arrogance rises in proportion to institutional prestige. Indeed, it was while studying for her Ph.D. at Harvard University that Martha Beck suffered from a severe bout of impostor syndrome. In her autobiographical book, Expecting Adam, she shares a story that changed everything.

  One day on her way to class she stopped off at a friend’s laboratory. Beck watched fascinated as her friend conducted an experiment involving rats attached to electrodes swimming in a plastic “kiddie pool” decorated with those funny little blue Smurf cartoon characters. When she arrived late to her own class Beck apologized, explaining that she’d gotten sidetracked in the psych lab watching rats swim in a Smurf pool.

  “I see,” said the instructor. “Yes, I believe I’ve read about that.”

  A professor, one of the visiting dignitaries, chimed in. “How is Smurf’s work going?” he inquired. “I understand he’s had some remarkable findings.”

  “Yes,” said a graduate student. “I read his last article.”

  It went on that way for a few moments more. As the reality of what was happening became clear, Beck’s initial confusion turned to delight:

  I was giddy with exhilaration because after seven years at Harvard, I was just beginning to realize that I wasn’t the only one faking it. I had bluffed my way through many a cocktail party, pretending to know about whichever scholar or theory was the current topic of conversation. I had always wondered how I survived among the staggeringly intelligent people lurking around me. Now I was beginning to understand.