“Do I belong here?”
I sat in the cold dark ballroom as the panelists took their seats on stage. The panel consisted of two female experts and two male executives; each was given a couple of minutes to introduce themselves. The two women and one man gave a modest introduction of their roles. Dave was last.
In his southern drawl, he said, “Hi, I’m Dave. I don’t know what you heard when my fellow panelists just introduced themselves, but here’s what I heard. ‘I’m Dawn, the brilliant, world-famous doctor at the renowned Mayo Clinic saving people’s lives every single day.’ ‘I’m John, the suave, good-looking and highly educated CEO of a bank.’ ‘I’m Leslie, the genius scientist working at a multibillion- dollar company you all know and love and I’m saving the world with my discoveries.’ And I’m Dave, a hick from Texas who didn’t graduate high school, and I help transport stuff.”
The audience laughed with shock and disbelief. They didn’t expect a man to voice those concerns. After all, Dave belonged up on that stage—right alongside the doctor, CEO and scientist. He had risen to become a company president; he had received awards during his time in the Navy and he’s a great leader.
In that moment Dave felt inadequate as he compared himself to the other executives and experts on stage. He had imposter syndrome.
Have you ever chalked up your success to luck, chance or good timing? Do you discredit your accomplishments or feel that you don’t deserve them? Do you ever feel like a fraud? If you said yes to any of those statements, you may be sabotaging yourself. And before you start putting yourself down for that, guess what: we all do it.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines imposter syndrome as the “persistent inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one’s own efforts or skills.” Despite evidence of success and competence, there is a persistent fear of being exposed as a fraud. Imposter syndrome erodes your confidence and can prevent you from taking risks or striving for things that you are completely capable of already or are capable of learning.
But here’s the thing.
Research shows that men and women equally experience imposter syndrome. In fact, 25 to 30 percent of high achievers may suffer from imposter syndrome and a 2019 review of 62 studies on imposter syndrome suggested anywhere from 9 to 82 percent of people report having thoughts along these lines at some point.
Why then do women overwhelmingly get saddled with the term?
Ruchika Tulshyan and Jodi-Ann Burey provide one piece of the puzzle in their landmark HBR article, Stop Telling Women They Have Imposter Syndrome.
The term, originally named imposter phenomenon, was coined in a study that looked at high-achieving women back in 1978. It stands to reason that because the concept originated in a study group of women, the term ‘stuck’ to women. But subsequent studies have shown that anyone, in fact, everyone may experience feelings of being unsure, uncertain or undermined.
I think there’s more to the story.
Dave, the president panelist, does not represent the norm in the sense that he was a man who admitted to having these defeatist feelings to a ballroom full of people. He did represent the norm by not letting his doubts stop him. Dave went for it, and he succeeded, right to the top.
Boys are raised to be certain, to not show fear and to go for it. Girls are raised to be careful, to avoid risk, to wait and see. If anyone is susceptible to feeling like an imposter, the nurtured response to deal with them are different. If you’re a boy/man you go for it, fight through the fear. If you’re a girl/woman you stay back, stay safe.
Thankfully I see signs of this changing. A movement has begun to question traditional male gender stereotypes such as stoicism and strength, opening the door for important traits of vulnerability and sensitivity. Similarly, there are movements aimed at young girls and women to believe, to go for it, to dare and to risk.
This leads to another important point that Ruchika and Burey make. Overcoming imposter syndrome means creating an environment that fosters a variety of leadership styles and in which diverse racial, ethnic, and gender identities are seen as just as professional as the current model (where everyone looks the same. I don’t have to describe it, you know). They argue that we must focus on fixing the cultures and the organizations that enable, perpetuate, and exacerbate bias and exclusion which lead to feelings of uncertainty and doubt. I agree we must do this. It’s critical.
But equally as important I believe we must normalize feelings of uncertainty and doubt that everyone feels. Maybe before we can unhitch the term imposter syndrome from women, we must first hitch the cart to men’s horses. Maybe that will be an easier first step. What do you think?
I also don’t think it means we need to do away with all the workshops and conversations with women about imposter syndrome as Ruchika and Burey seem to suggest. The feelings are still there. Targeting organizational and cultural initiatives won’t magically make individual feelings go away overnight. This isn’t an either-or situation. It’s a both situation. I agree that this isn’t about fixing women, but it is about having conversations that get at negative self talk.
Here’s the bottom line.
Let’s normalize feelings of uncertainty and doubt – it’s a human thing, not a gender thing.
Let’s retire this term of imposter syndrome once and for all.
Let’s continue to have conversations about negative self-talk of all forms.
Let’s create the cultures and organizations that make it okay to express our doubts and embrace a broader definition of competence, confidence and leadership style.