What If I’m Not Good Enough?

Summary

The article discusses the confidence gap that contributes to the gender pay gap, where women often undervalue their abilities and apply for jobs only when they meet all qualifications, unlike men who apply with fewer qualifications.

Abstract

The gender pay gap persists in the UK, with women earning less than men on average, particularly in leadership roles and higher-paying positions. This disparity is attributed in part to the confidence gap, a phenomenon where women lack the confidence to apply for roles unless they meet all the criteria, as opposed to men who apply when they meet only 60%. The article's author shares a personal account of struggling with self-doubt while transitioning from teaching to journalism, highlighting the internal battle and fear of inadequacy that can prevent women from pursuing better-paying roles. The author acknowledges that while confidence is crucial for professional success, overcoming ingrained self-doubt is challenging and requires conscious effort to change behavior and instill new habits. The piece concludes by recognizing the societal factors contributing to this issue, with women being socialized for perfection and men for bravery, and emphasizes the need for personal belief in one's abilities to break the cycle of fear and risk aversion.

Opinions

Vicky Pryce suggests that the confidence gap is a significant factor in the gender pay gap.
The author relates to the confidence gap, experiencing self-doubt when applying for journalism internships despite a strong desire to enter the field.
Women are more likely to apply for jobs beneath their qualifications due to a lack of self-belief.
The author believes that a lack of confidence in the workplace can lead to a monetary loss and hinder career advancement.
The author recognizes that confidence, not just competence, is key to success and is working to change their behavior to apply for more challenging positions.
The author reflects on past opportunities and feels regret for not applying for positions when they felt more confident in their writing skills.
The author identifies with the societal expectation for women to strive for perfection, which contributes to their hesitation in taking risks.
The author aspires to become a journalist to share stories and experiences that resonate with others facing similar challenges.

What If I’m Not Good Enough?

One of the reasons why women earn on average less than men is a lack of confidence in their abilities: the Confidence Gap.

Since 2018, the Office of National Statistics has conducted surveys regarding the gender pay gap in the UK. What has been revealed is that even in industries where women make up the greater workforce, men earn on average more than women. That is not to say that women earn less for the same work — technically that would be illegal — but that women are lacking in positions of leadership, or do not apply for higher paying roles.

Several suggestions have been made as to why this might be the case. Vicky Pryce, the author of “Why Women Need Quotas” argues that one of the reasons for the significant pay gap is a gap in confidence. According to a survey conducted by Hewlett Packard, women only apply for jobs when they meet 100% of the criteria — men, on the other hand, apply when they meet 60%. Women, therefore, need greater proof of their abilities before they feel assured of their success. Equally, women often apply for positions far beneath their qualifications due to a lack of belief in their abilities.

What it feels like to experience the confidence gap

I can certainly relate. Six years after beginning a career in teaching, I’m applying for journalism internships. Why? Because I’ve always wanted to be a journalist, but have been certain I’d never be given the opportunity — Why would someone want to hire me? What story do I have to tell that others are willing to listen to?

The process has been painful. I’m finding myself not only applying for entry-level positions (which already feels like a blow to my self-esteem), but I’m also battling a constant crisis of faith. I can’t help feeling that there’s someone better than me, more deserving of the positions I’m applying for: someone with superior writing abilities; someone with greater drive and ambition; someone with relentless enthusiasm and belief in the power of their words. Surely it would be better to give up now before I have to receive the rejection letter?

What can I do about it?

I’m aware that all reading this article (men included) have experienced crises of confidence; only a narcissist or a sociopath could claim perfect self-assurance. However, in a world dictated by the market, a monetary loss can actually be attributed to a lack of confidence in the workplace. Because our work world rewards those who ask, not those who wait for assurance that their work is valuable, an absence of faith in one’s abilities leads to lower incomes. In other words, in the world of work, a fear of inadequacy results in a lower overall earning projection because it means you simply won’t apply for positions that pay better. The pattern continues to repeat itself — when others are already two positions ahead, you’re stuck in the same place, certain, now, of your mediocrity.

But knowing that confidence is half the reason people are able to succeed doesn’t help to change the way I feel. I can acknowledge that people with equal competence, but greater tenacity, are able to get further, though this has little influence on my faith in my abilities. I am urging myself to alter my behaviours — applying for things that I wouldn’t otherwise; writing even when the words feel amateur and juvenile — to try to instil new, productive habits. But it’s taking a conscious effort to prevent myself from ruminating on what I perceive as my inferior skill set. I look back on the articles I wrote at university or just after, and kick myself for not applying for positions then, when my writing was stronger and I had more practice. I feel guilty and foolish for wasting all these years doing a job that I believe has led to no great achievement. And then I recognise that each thought is simply part of the cycle that runs through my head whenever I’m afraid of taking a risk — I find reasons to believe that I’m simply not good enough.

In writing this, I feel that there are many who share similar experiences (and this is, indeed, why I want to become a journalist). Realising that women are socialised to be perfect while men are raised to be brave gives me some assurance that my anxiety is, at least in part, a structural phenomenon. I don’t mean to imply that my writing is perfect or that I don’t have much to learn. Merely that I am good enough, and I need to prove this to myself almost more than I need to prove it to the person reading my application.