I Think I May Possibly Be Confident
Watching an old travel TV programme the other day, the host interviewed the head of a top public school(1) in India. He asked if they were preparing the pupils to become the country’s elite. The headmaster replied, ‘no, we are training them to be confident, so they can become the elite if they choose.’ Such a trait is synonymous with public school pupils the world over, confidence sweating from their pores. A grammar school(2) boy myself, I can’t compete which such self-assurance, but, in some aspects, my own school life imbued me with a level of confidence those from other walks of life lack. So, what is confidence? How do you obtain it? Why does it come and go?
The dictionary definition is belief in oneself, but my own interpretation is it stems from knowledge: either the possession of knowledge or complete ignorance. We lose confidence when we understand we lack the knowledge to tackle a situation. I would separate it from our ego (the self), something that can certainly grow with confidence, but is perhaps built from the less clearly defined aspects of our genes and early days.
The ethos of a public school is built on developing future leaders, the best available teachers inculcating a sense of purpose, while the pupils, often from wealthy, powerful or driven families, know only success. Boarders will learn self-reliance early, responsibility drummed into them, while even their youthful irresponsibility will be flavoured with an independent spirit. They know their privileged status, their superior education, the doors that are open to them with their connections, and with all that knowledge they are confident in life. Now, that is some broad stereotyping on my part and different schools and different parents, will generate different children, but it makes my point.
But confidence is not confined to class. We’ve all seen the yob walking with a swagger, immune to others’ opinions, confident in ignoring the law and not giving a hoot. Rather than a public schooling education, they may have neglected their schooling altogether, preferring to get theirs on the streets in a feral environment. I could argue their confidence comes from ignorance. You’ve nothing to fear if you don’t know anything. But that oversimplifies the issue. Education and intelligence are two different things and it could be equally true that the outward facing bravado is a show to hide their insecurity or they understand fully how creating fear helps get their own way or how helpless the law sometimes is. If you misbehave and get away with it, you’ve accumulated that as knowledge and can exploit it: your confidence grows. Society, as a whole, has lost the ability to police itself. You no longer have the old grey-haired lady chiding teenagers for their behaviour on the bus, confident the driver will step in and clip an ear or two if required. They don’t know what reaction they’ll get: compliance, swearing or violence? And in that climate of uncertainty and fear, they lose confidence, while the teenagers, unrestricted in their unruly behaviour, gain confidence. However, as we are seeing, that lack of robust societal framework is also leaving a generation rather fragile, often disingenuously referred to as the snowflake generation. Outwardly, they appear as boisterous as any youngster should be, but for some it is an eggshell covering a vulnerable centre. Whether this is related to confidence or something deeper, I don’t know. Modern life, social media and smartphones may have created a safety blanket or warped outlook on life, undermining an ability to feel secure within themselves? Or maybe they’ll prove us all wrong when they grow up and sort out the mess the planet’s in. I’ve come across enough to give me hope.
For the majority of us, confidence is a mixed bag. Our experiences will nurture or wither it. Some will always be confident with the opposite sex, knowledgeable in their own looks or comfortable in their company because of the environment they grew up in. Others will only gain confidence once their hormones push them into gaining experience and some will revert to jabbering wrecks every time they try engaging. Money will empower some with confidence, the power that comes with it intoxicating and alluring. There is no better instiller of knowledge than an education, and the further you go through the system the more confidence you will have. It may be you only come to life when talking about a specialist subject, but others will grow as their life experience is reinforced by knowledge from the text books.
But why do we lose our confidence? Surely, if it’s built on possessing knowledge, you retain that for life. Well, no. You’ll recall I also said confidence was built on ignorance. We carry a fair bit of faith with us, fostered by our egos. When you walk up to an attractive stranger to ask them out, confident they’ll say ‘yes’, you’re actually doing so with ignorance. You’ve no idea what their tastes are, if they even like your gender, or are already in a relationship. Their rejection will expose your lack of knowledge, undermining the faith you had in any knowledge you did possess, hitting your confidence. A flirtatious look from another stranger may reignite it but too many hits and the confidence is shot. Of course, some are immune to such rejections altogether, their egos compensating for the facts, and I guess one has to ask whether any love they have to offer will only be available for themselves?
So, where does the line exist between confidence and arrogance. I’ve heard some people describe a world famous footballer as arrogant, and others say it is confidence because his ability and achievements back up his words. There is some truth in the latter, though I would argue a confident individual, secure in themselves, should be humble and self-depreciating, but that is just opinion. Of course, any person claiming knowledge or ability they don’t possess is arrogant, as is anyone using their confidence to show up others. The fuzzy area is those gaining confidence from information that is fundamentally wrong. Misinformation works in the same way as information, reinforcing faith and beliefs. Amongst the conspiracy theorists, they will possess a deep-rooted narrative which only accommodates new information that fits with it, rather than using evidence as a building block to a more fluid narrative. The arrogance comes from the intractable starting position. So, if I see a blurred thing whiz through the night sky, I can be confident in saying it is unidentified, flying and and an object but not that it is an alien space craft. Someone who believes E.T. has already visited, will use the same incident as proof they are right. Many areas exist where it’s okay to have an opinion based on a theory or hunch, but we need to retain doubts, keeping our confidence at a safe level, and remain open to new knowledge that may deconstruct confidence in one direction and build it up in another.
I write all this from the position of understanding just enough to know I’m no expert but I am a good observer. So, please take these musings as mere observations. I have confidence you will do so… I think. Maybe…
Nathaniel M Wrey
Public School - in the UK, a public school is an elite fee paying institution, as opposed to a State school, which is free. The confusing name comes from old legislation (1868 Public Schools Act) that established schools as available to anyone… as long as you paid (some gain entry through scholarships).
Grammar School - in the UK, a grammar school is a selective institution based on educational ability rather than a fee. Once wide spread, only a few regions, such as the South East, have them now. An entrance examine is taken at 11 years old by those wishing to apply and the top percentage are accepted. Others can join later, in what was termed the sixth form when I attended i.e. 16-18 years.