On being educated yet skill-less, and the fragility of self-worth
I just had a crisis of confidence after panicking behind the driving wheel, having enraged motorists as I pulled wobbily into the side of the road, almost stalling the car in the process. It was my first time behind the wheel after passing my test 6 years ago. ‘I can’t even drive — I’m hopeless!’ I thought, tearily handing over the wheel to my far more competent partner.
Now I’ve calmed down a bit, I’ve realised that expecting myself to be a pro driver was rather ridiculous. But it has also made me confront some painful home truths. That despite being an educated woman in my 20s, I possess neither confidence nor many concrete, useful skills. And I think it’s an overlooked crisis of the 21st century.
To address the former, we need look no further than last week’s ‘Great British Bakeoff’ debacle, where clearly the most talented baker of the series, Steph, succumbed to the pressure she had placed upon herself. Then there was Alice, who despite being a very succesful and attractive woman, panicked when she realised her number one support system — her parents — may not be able to attend the final result (thankfully, they did). Meanwhile, David stayed cool and calm, which ultimately won him the contest. By remaining confident in his abilities, he was able to translate that confidence into brilliant bakes. He was certaintly talented, but his manner led him to succeed in the way the ladies didn’t. Unfortunately, this is mirrored in the fact that women are far more likely to suffer a lack of confidence than men.
So why in a time where we are more educated than ever do we have no self-confidence, and feel the need to read articles and attend sessions at work on overcoming imposter syndrome? I believe there is a strong relationship between self-confidence and our ability (or lack thereof) to carry out practical, ‘real world’ skills — whether that’s driving a car or baking a cake. Nowadays, most ‘good’ jobs don’t necessitate any practical skills at all aside from working on a computer. In fact, many jobs with high ‘prestige’ and/or wages typically involve being behind a screen with some interacting with people in business settings. At least 50% of young people in the UK now go to university — and that’s not surprising, considering that alternative qualifications to GCSE’s and A levels are practically non-existent. This means we are becoming more ‘qualified’ while becoming less skilled. Apparently intelligent people are generally at the mercy of a dwindling number of practically-skilled individuals. These people are the ones who (sometimes literally) fly in to save us — doctors and nurses who care for us when we’re sick, mechanics who step in when our cars break down, and plumbers and other tradespeople who save our ceilings from caving in when we have a leak. Although the gender norms left something to be desired, decades ago it was a matter of pride for men to do their own repairs, and women their own needlework. Now we just get new things, call mum and dad for help, and while away the hours on Netflix needlework-free. No wonder we have a crisis of confidence, when we can’t even look after ourselves.
Of course no-one can be an expert at everything. But it is clear that overeducation is doing many of us few favours. As more people get good grades and degrees, it puts further pressure on young people to succeed, worrying that they will end up jobless if they don’t excel academically. Yet we know that some of our most successful and talented artists, sportsmen and women and businesspeople were, frankly, terrible at school. Despite this, we consistently take away opportunities for young people to excel in other areas.
I am now experiencing how doing well in a traditional sense can come with downsides. I was lucky enough to do well academically, by keeping my head either in a book or through immersing myself in classical music as a child. But right now, it is difficult to argue that I am helping society in any meaningful way — even though I am studying for my PhD. Meanwhile, those who went on to more hands-on jobs have already helped countless others and themselves in the process too — by having confidence in their ability to do their job and perform skills well. Therefore, as a society we certainly shouldn’t knock those who have chosen a practical approach — nor necessarily esteem those with the greatest number of letters after their names.
Meanwhile, I’ll keep practicing with my driving, so I can maybe add it to the skills section of my CV (and my internal confidence-booster). But in the meantime, I’ll keep writing — the one skill I have which, maybe, will help others oneday.
