Imposter syndrome is the great dragon of academia, and a vicious foe that must be slain. One of the great paradoxes of academic life is that the more expertise you gain in your field, the less confidence you have in your intellectual abilities. Often starting very early in their Ph.D. program, many academics get a nagging feeling of inadequacy, one that tends to linger throughout their time in graduate school and beyond.
While feeling like an imposter is not at all unusual, it is dangerous. Feeling unequal to the task of academic research and dissemination of scholarship at conferences and in publication has spelled doom for many graduate students and early career academics. Combatting imposter syndrome is an act of self-care and an important part of protecting your mental health and having agency as an academic.
These are a few questions that are often asked about imposter syndrome:
- What is imposter syndrome?
- Who feels imposter syndrome?
- How do I address imposter syndrome?
- Does it ever go away?
What is Imposter Syndrome?
At its core, imposter syndrome is feeling like a fraud even after years of building expertise in your subject area and becoming highly skilled in your field. It’s a persistent feeling of doubt characterized by fear of both failure and success. While feelings of inadequacy are nothing new to academics, the term “imposter syndrome” (first coined in 1978) has gained traction over the past decade or so as academics’ mental health has been discussed more openly.
Graduate school is a challenging experience, even under the best of circumstances. It is intellectually rigorous, with an onslaught of information that can often feel like it’s coming at you from a firehose. With so much to learn, how could anyone expect to attain true mastery? There are many things in your field that you don’t know and may never know, and the reality of expertise is that it sometimes amounts to a (very) educated guess.
When I was in graduate school, learning everything I needed to know sometimes felt like an exercise in futility. Each bit of knowledge I gained felt like lighting a very small candle to illuminate a vast cave cloaked in darkness. This made me doubt myself on more than one occasion. Should I really be expounding on this tiny flame of an idea when I knew how much remained unknown? But that’s the nature of the production of knowledge. And, candle by candle, you start to find your way.
Who Feels Imposter Syndrome?
Everyone, I imagine, feels imposter syndrome at some point. However, it’s endemic to the academy. Due to the nature of higher education, particularly at the graduate levels, gaining expertise is an exercise in drilling down on an ever-narrowing topic with the goal of attaining a true depth of understanding. Or, as one of my professors once said, getting a Ph.D. means “learning more and more about less and less.”
When I spoke at my first academic conference, I felt like a total fraud. I thought of myself as being “only” a graduate student, and I wasn’t sure why anyone would care about what I had to say. I was on a conference panel with two full-fledged faculty members who were well-known names in our field, and I was intimidated to be speaking alongside two proven experts. On top of that, dozens of people had the nerve to show up to our panel (a rarity), and we had a packed audience.
Addressing Imposter Syndrome
I learned a lot about mitigating the gnawing feeling of imposter syndrome during that conference panel. While my anxiety was through the roof, my fellow panelists could not have been more gracious and supportive. They validated my ideas and fielded me questions from the audience that were in my wheelhouse. While I won’t say that I had a good time, I definitely warmed up to the conference experience.
Addressing imposter syndrome may be a matter of collective responsibility, at least in part. Good mentorship helps to validate the skills and insight of new Ph.D.s and it helps them become more comfortable in roles that require their expertise. Whether it is in teaching, scholarship, or the private sector, mentorship should play a major part in the development of graduate students and new Ph.D.s.
While having strong mentors who are invested in your happiness and success is ideal, that doesn’t always happen, which is why it’s important to have other strategies for addressing imposter syndrome. For me, getting lots of practice helped. I was afraid of speaking at conferences, so I signed up for a bunch of them and got used to speaking in public. I submitted my research to academic journals that felt like a reach. Many of them said no, at first, but others accepted my articles for peer-reviewed publication. Either way, peer reviewers’ comments made me a better and more confident scholar.
Does Imposter Syndrome Ever Go Away?
The answer to this question is complex. Imposter syndrome is dynamic, and the shape that it takes changes as you progress throughout your career. You will master the skills gap that fueled your initial fears, yes. The work that you’re doing doesn’t get any easier, but you get better. However, the more you grow as an academic within your field, the more mysteries and challenges you’ll encounter. I also don’t think that it’s to our benefit for imposter syndrome to vanish completely, because it makes us stronger scholars and it keeps us sharp.
Don’t get me wrong. Hitting your stride as an academic feels great, but no matter how confident we become in our own abilities, it’s best not to get too comfortable. The purpose of academic scholarship is to constantly learn and grow, and the advancement of knowledge doesn’t tend to happen once we stop asking questions and pursuing new avenues of inquiry. Once you’ve mastered one area of your research and you’ve done as much as you can do with it, new horizons will await you. And then it starts all over again.
