As an author, I often combine stories either to make a point or to increase confidentiality. Shockingly, this is the story of just one person that I interviewed while researching for my book. I have only changed the name.
It underlines how serious and significant imposter syndrome can be, and how everyone loses; the individual, their colleagues and their company.
At the age of thirty-one, Daniel was a successful lawyer. He had won a number of high-profile cases and been praised in the newspapers. People meeting him for the first time were struck by his confident, upbeat air and his dynamic energy. Here was a man who got things done well. Everyone agreed that he was ‘going places’.
Daniel was headhunted for a top legal team at a prestigious London law firm. The team leader was especially delighted that Daniel had joined his team, and he was sure Daniel would make a valuable team member.
Most of Daniel’s colleagues were second- or third-generation barristers. By contrast, Daniel had been raised in a poor family, from which he had been the only one to go to university. He was embarrassed by his strong northern accent and started to think that his background set him apart from the team. Daniel withdrew somewhat and didn’t mix with the team socially.
His first team project was to research a point of law for a high-profile defence. The whole team was working flat out, scrutinising legal minutiae and past cases to find the best strategy. Daniel found an unusual and remarkable solution, which impressed the whole team. But when everyone congratulated him, he just said, ‘I got lucky.’ This appeared to be humility, and his boss was pleased that Daniel was such a good team player.
However, Daniel genuinely believed it was luck that he had found the solution, and luck that he had been hired for the job. He suspected that he didn’t belong there. He was convinced that despite his position, his prior accomplishments and his recognition for outstanding work, someone would eventually realise they’d made a mistake in hiring him. Daniel was constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for someone to accuse him of being a fraud, and he started to dread going to work every morning.
When he was asked for his written opinion on legal cases, Daniel could not bring himself to write what he actually thought. He was sure this would give him away as a fraud. Instead, he cut and pasted from textbooks, hoping it would sound plausible. While he knew this was not his best work, his anxiety won out over his conscientiousness.
As the stress continued to build, Daniel had a constant cold and was run down. He couldn’t wait for the end of each day, then he would agonise over his work in the evening, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night panicking that he had made some terrible mistake.
Daniel did not mention his thoughts and feelings to anyone, in work or out of it. He kept up a cheerful attitude at work so that his boss and colleagues would not suspect what was really going on for him. This made him feel even more like a fraud as he was smiling on the outside but had a permanent tense knot in his stomach.
Finally, the anxiety became unbearable. After just two months in this top position, Daniel resigned. He felt it was better to leave before anyone discovered he was a fraud and save himself from the humiliation of being found out and fired.
Daniel spent three months completely burnt out and unable to work. He later did some part-time paralegal work and eventually started his own one-man family law firm. He has always regretted that his fear of failure ended a potentially spectacular legal career.
I get so frustrated hearing situations like this, and Daniel is certainly not alone in his experience, because it is unnecessary and there is a clear path to resolving imposter syndrome. I’m going to be announcing a new programme next week. I only wish Daniel had been able to do it.
