How many of us fear being “found out” in the workplace? I am not thinking of our fear that any fraudulent activities might be uncovered. No. I’m referring to the fear that many of us have that we are not good enough to be doing the job we are doing. I have heard some people call this the “imposter syndrome”.
If Dr Laurence J. Peter and Raymond Hull are right, it’s likely that the further we travel up the organisational hierarchy the more likely we are to be poorly equipped to do our jobs. Peter and Hull are the authors of the book The Peter Principle. Why Things Always Go Wrong. Their hypothesis – that people rise to their level of incompetence in organisations – has passed into the vernacular and their book, first published more than thirty years ago, is still widely available.
With or without their hypothesis, the fear exists. As long as we feel this fear it’s hard for us to be authentic in our dealings with others. Our energies go into wearing a mask which protects us from being “found out”. Paradoxically, the mask we wear to secure our personal sense of safety inspires fear in others. The more senior we are, the more this fear spreads throughout the organisations we lead.
I am reminded of Carl Rogers, whose work has been so influential in the world of learning – especially in the field of therapy and coaching. Perhaps this extract from an article by Rachel Naomi Remen gives insight into the alternatives available to us:
Years ago, I was invited to a seminar given by Carl Rogers. I had never read his work, but I knew that the seminar, attended by a group of therapists, was about ‘unconditional positive regard’. At the time I was highly sceptical about this idea, but I attended the seminar anyway. I left it transformed.
Roger’s theories arose out of his practice, and his practice was intuitive and natural to him. In the seminar, he tried to analyse what he was doing for us as he did it. He wanted to give a demonstration of unconditional positive regard in a therapeutic session. One of the therapists volunteered to serve as the subject. As Rogers turned to the volunteer and was about to start the session, he suddenly pulled himself up, turned back to us, and said, ‘I realise there’s something I do before I start a session. I let myself know that I am enough. Not perfect. Perfect wouldn’t be enough. But I am human, and that is enough. There is nothing this man can say or do that I can’t feel in myself. I can be with him. I am enough’.
I was stunned by this. It felt as if some old wound in me, some fear of not being good enough, had come to an end. I knew, inside myself, that what he had said was absolutely true: I am not perfect, but I am enough.