Impostor syndrome, the feeling that one doesn’t really belong, is a growing problem in America’s workplaces, schools, and social settings. It’s not a momentary, “oh, I’ve walked into the wrong room” kind of feeling, but instead a deeply unsettling complex of thoughts and emotions that lead us to ask, “why am I pursuing this path in my life?”
I first heard about impostor syndrome when I was a graduate student around 15 years ago. At the time, it was described as a problem that was most prominent among my female colleagues. But for one semester, I felt it acutely. I didn’t even realize what it was. I just thought for sure that I was going to flunk out of my master’s degree program. It didn’t help that the program was in England, where basically everything was foreign and new to me.
As social psychologist, Camille Johnson, Ph.D. writes, researchers originally attributed the feelings to a person’s own failures and lack of confidence. According to this view, if we could just “suck it up” we’d be fine. However, this simply blames the victim and fails to look at structural influences in the problem.
In the end, I didn’t fail that semester. And I wound up finishing my degree with honors. And I returned to the U.S. both shaken by the experience and with a new level of confidence.
The dropouts
However, many people are not so lucky. The feelings of self-doubt cause them to shrink and silence themselves. They pass up opportunities to strive out again, fearing failure and judgment. They may even go so far as to quit. They might go the other direction and exert too much energy, becoming a functional workaholic.
If the feelings are deeply internalized, they can affect all parts of a person’s life. The person who overworks to compensate for impostor syndrome will neglect other aspects of life such as friendships, family, hobbies, and self-care. They might sink into perfectionism, fixating on flaws in everything they do.
The deeper causes
One of the first things we can do to understand and overcome impostor syndrome is to see its deeper causes. At its roots, it is based in structures of power, hierarchy, and precarity. Generally, in our families we might have the first two of these, but not the third. We know where we belong. We are the son or daughter. Our parents might push us toward certain degrees or areas of work. Or they might have a hands-off supportive approach. Either way, we’re never uncertain about whether we belong.
In our youth, too, we tend to find our clique or group of friends. We develop hobbies and build our days around them. In my own youth in Montana in the 1990s, this was a relatively care-free process. That’s not to say it was easy. My family has a history of depression on both sides and I slipped into my own state of depression in my late teens.
That said, it does seem that young people today have a much more difficult time than I or the generations before me had. Social media exposes kids at increasingly young ages to unattainable goals of beauty and popularity. The rise of “helicopter parents” who try to manage every facet of kids’ lives has created performance anxiety. And the global economic roller coaster of the last 20 years, combined with wars and increasingly worrisome signs of climate change have given rise to a number of terrifying future scenarios.
Stepping out of the toxic environments
Given all of that, we can look for situations with less struggle over power, hierarchy, and precarity. When I was in grad school, I started blogging. This was around 2005 when blogging was just starting to take off. At the time, and for many years after, it was a great equalizer. There weren’t many powerful platforms. Most of us just wrote on a free WordPress or Blogger site. And through my blog I (virtually) met and conversed with tenured professors, fellow graduate students, and many people around the world who were simply interested in what I was saying.
Then, as I entered into the academic job market, things changed. Suddenly hierarchy and power relationships were at the forefront. It was all about who you knew and how your connections (and theirs) could advance your career. This was profoundly disappointing for me. Suddenly, the love of the material had to take a back seat. My impostor syndrome reappeared and I increasingly felt overwhelmed.
Finally, I returned to blogging. Sort of. I was hired as an occasional writer for a website and over time the position grew until it was a full-time job. Today I technically work as a journalist. And for the most part, the hierarchies and power struggles are gone. My colleagues are still human, as are people at similar websites who might be seen as our competitors, so disagreements arise. But the environment is free of what many have described as the toxicity of the academic workplace.
Seeing the good in the syndrome
Dr. Johnson, in her work in social psychology, suggests that we might learn to see the syndrome as a positive reflection of ourselves. If we are not trying to do better, to grow, to change the world in some meaningful way, we’re unlikely to fall into impostor syndrome. So our own choices to strive for better are the seed of the syndrome. Unhealthy or toxic environments just create the ideal conditions for it to germinate and grow.
Second, we can fall back on the classic phrase from Mr. Rogers, “look for the helpers.” Even in toxic environments, we can move forward with the help of colleagues and mentors who have been there and understand the particular difficulty of where we are.
And in turn, we can become a helper for others. It won’t take long before another new face arrives and faces many of the same struggles we’ve seen. The surest way to feel a sense of belonging is to help others and empowerment is to help others.
Justin Whitaker, Ph.D., holds a doctorate in Buddhist ethics from the University of London. He has given lectures, and taught Buddhist studies and Philosophy at Oxford University, the University of Hong Kong, the University of Montana, and at Antioch University’s intensive study-abroad program in India. A certified meditation teacher, he is a regular contributor to Patheos.com, and Senior Correspondent for Buddhistdoor Global. He lives in Missoula with his family.