The Confidence Code (24 page)

It’s a great thing about women that we are so supportive of each other, but sometimes the support a friend or colleague really needs is a push. When someone is feeling down or has hit a hurdle, our temptation is to sympathize. When they’re feeling bad about themselves, our nurturing selves kick in with a booster phrase like, “You’re great just as you are,” and then we suggest they’ll feel better if they repeat this mantra to themselves.

Pattie Sellers has some true friends. She didn’t listen right away, but they harangued her for a few years, and bluntly, about the fact that she needed a promotion, that she was being undervalued. She’d worked for twenty-five years at
Fortune
magazine. In addition to being an editor at large, and handling many of the big interviews, she’d largely created and now oversaw
Fortune
’s Most Powerful Women meeting every year, which had become wildly successful. Pattie wanted to stretch somehow, but was afraid to suggest it to her bosses. She already had a terrific job, after all. Why rock the boat? Finally the friends got to her, and her own inner voice as well. “I was sooooooo nervous about the meeting,” she remembers.

You can probably guess how this story ended. Pattie got a big promotion, a new title, and a big raise. She now directs development of all live events across Time Inc. “I don’t know what I was thinking during those years (years!) it took me to get up the courage,” she confesses. “Did I think I would be fired for asking to do more? I guess that’s what I was afraid of.” She pauses, thinking. “I guess I thought if I asked for more, they would fire me.” Having spent a fair amount of time around Pattie professionally, we were almost thunderstruck to hear she had even had this dilemma. But the experience, in the end, gave her a huge confidence boost. “Ever since I asked for a bigger, broader job and got it, I have the sense that the bosses are valuing me a lot more than they used to. Lesson learned.”

Just to summarize:

Reality
: Bosses clearly think employee is enormously valuable. She can easily ask for a promotion
.

In her head:
She shouldn’t ask, or she might be fired.

That the female internal self-evaluation system can be that broken is, again, astounding, shocking, stunning, and every other word we’ve used multiple times that implies those things. It’s just nuts! And this is why friends, acquaintances, and even strangers need to become honest and pushy with each other.

All those Hallmark “you’re the best” sentiments might not work so well, anyway. A few years ago, University of Waterloo psychology professor Joanne Wood conducted a study that found positive self-statements such as “I’m great, I’m perfect, and I am lovable” can actually do more harm than good. Wood and her team conducted a study in which they asked participants to answer the ten questions in the Rosenberg Self-Esteem Scale. They then separated the participants into three groups depending on how they ranked on the scale. The people who scored lowest on the Rosenberg scale were deemed low self-esteem while the highest were put in the high self-esteem group, and those in the middle were labeled medium self-esteem. The people in the lowest and the highest groups were then randomly assigned one of two tasks. They either had to continuously repeat to themselves the statement “I’m a lovable person” for four minutes, or they had to write down their thoughts and feelings for a period of four minutes. Wood’s results showed that the people who’d been in the low self-esteem group and were assigned the “I’m a lovable person” mantra felt worse about themselves after repeating the phrase compared with the low self-esteem people who’d had to write down their actual thoughts and feelings. Wood believes the findings resulted from the gap between what participants were
told
to feel and what they
really
felt. Repeating empty statements served only to underscore how far they felt they were from an ideal state of mind. The whole exercise made them feel like a double failure.

So, rather than repeatedly telling your friend she’s great, try encouraging her to take action instead. Often, it takes just one suggestion—one comment from a friend or coworker. “You should consider that city council seat.” “I’m sure you could handle the supervisory job. You should go for it.” We can help each other most by giving each other permission to act. One little nudge might be all we need.

Sometimes that nudge comes when you are least expecting it. The power of even a fleeting image of what’s possible can be critical for instilling confidence. If you’re a woman in a position of authority, you can bet other women and girls will be watching. You are a role model just by virtue of who you are and the position you hold. You should know that what they see in you can change their lives. It’s true in the United States, and it’s often even more starkly true around the world.

We were reminded of that on a visit to the State Department, where we’d been invited to speak with two hundred women from around the world, all rising leaders in their countries. We were there to speak about the increasing power of women in the workplace; what we encountered was a humbling reminder of how fortunate we have been.

These were women who had started businesses, run for parliament, and braved political oppression. One by one, they rose to stand at a microphone and talk about the life they wanted for themselves and for their countries. (They were particularly interested, and mystified, by the fact that our husbands actually supported our careers and even pitched in with housework and child care. A useful reminder, next time we’re tempted to complain.)

After the group discussion we sat down with Eunice Mussa-Napolo, from Malawi, who told us about the woman who changed her life without even realizing it. Eunice grew up in a small village. She never imagined she’d go to school, let alone have a job. That’s not what village girls did in her country. She saw herself getting married at twelve or thirteen, having children and working tirelessly so the boys could get an education. “Even the six-year-old girl will wake up in the morning, fetch firewood, make breakfast for the boys to go to school,” she told us, without a hint of self-pity.

But, one day, she saw something radical: a woman driving a car. Eunice had never seen or imagined anything like it. Where she came from, women simply didn’t drive cars. It was an inconceivable act of independence, confidence, and guts. Even as a child Eunice was bold, and she approached this mysterious woman and struck up a conversation. If the driving had been inspiring, what she heard next was downright revolutionary: The woman was a bank manager in a distant town. Eunice was awestruck and accepted the woman’s one piece of advice: “The only way to do what I do,” said the bank manager, “is through education.” So Eunice begged and bothered her father until he finally gave in and allowed her to sit next to the boys in class. She had seen, just fleetingly, what she might achieve. But it stuck.

Initially, she followed her role model’s path precisely, becoming a bank manager herself. Even that wasn’t enough for this ambitious and increasingly confident young woman. “I guess I just became passionate about the plight of the girls,” she told us. Eunice decided to do something truly risky: run for a seat in parliament. After a brutal campaign against nine male opponents and with no political connections of her own, she achieved the unthinkable. She won.

8

THE SCIENCE AND THE ART

We’d both received the emails, from Genomind and 23andMe, a few days apart, letting us know the results were in. They gathered digital dust in our inboxes for a while. We later laughed about the fact that we dragged our feet before summoning up the nerve to expose our genetic secrets, to the point that neither even mentioned to the other that we had emails and should get going.

Early on, when we were plowing away into all of the science, we’d thought testing our genes was such a great idea. But now, the unopened results seemed less fascinating than portentous. What if our genes suggested we had alarming weaknesses?

Finally, our sense of curiosity won out, and we scheduled phone consultations with the genetic experts at each company. The information we got from 23andMe in its emailed summary was extensive—a detailed road map to future health hazards. It covers genetic links to many major illnesses, and as we scrolled through we traced our prospects of succumbing to everything from Alzheimer’s to heart disease. We had leapt somewhat blithely into the new frontier of gene testing, but when you see your potential future laid out in black and white, it’s a sobering moment. We were mostly lucky; there were no life-altering surprises in our DNA. We also learned cool, if somewhat random, facts about ourselves.

Katty has genes similar to those of some of the world’s greatest sprinters. (A shame she gave up running in high school.) And she apparently can’t distinguish bitter tastes well. Claire’s genetics confirm that the family lore about a Native American great-great-great-great-grandmother is likely accurate, and she’s since had dozens of follow-up notices about potential DNA relatives.

The results of our psychological gene profiling were much more of a surprise. 23andMe was able to test the worrier/warrior or COMT gene for us. Claire had been certain Katty would be a warrior, someone who performs well under stress, while she herself would be a worrier. Emily Drabant Conley, a neuroscientist who works for the company, told us, however, that our COMT variants are
both
met/met, the scientific identifier for worriers. That was a curveball. Research suggests met/mets perform very well in routine conditions but are much less confident and calm in high-risk settings. Drabant Conley made us feel better by reminding us that strong cognitive function often goes along with being worriers.

Our oxytocin results were also unexpected. Katty was certain Claire would have the nurturing and cuddly variant of the OXTR gene and that she would not. Wrong again. We
both
have the variant that makes us prone to feeling good about people and the world. We seized on that as a welcome counterbalance to that worrier news.

We then talked to Dr. Jay Lombard at Genomind, who had promised to explain in layman’s language what his findings from our saliva tests actually meant for us. Genomind, you’ll remember, does similar, but often more in-depth testing, usually directly for doctors. Scientists there are able to test for the serotonin transporter gene, the one we described in chapter 3, which can be critical for confidence. If you have one or two short strands of this gene you may be prone to anxiety, and two long strands mean you have a genetic predisposition to being more resilient. We’d both hoped we were long-stranded. We wanted that safety net of resilience embedded in our DNA. (We are aware that we were just blatantly and irresponsibly simplifying the complicated subject of genetics and its implications here, because we know genes aren’t determinative, but at that moment, on the phone, the genetic stakes felt quite black and white.)

As we listened to Dr. Lombard tell us again that genes don’t mean everything, we had a sense he was trying to pave the way gently. Sure enough, he told us we both have a combo short/long serotonin transporter gene. Essentially, we are more prone to anxiety, and possibly depression, depending on the challenges life tosses our way. Dr. Lombard agrees with our conclusions about the serotonin transporter and COMT genes—he thinks both are critical in terms of impact on personality in general, and on the narrower trait of confidence. Indeed, when we pressed him, he said if he had been handed our data without knowing anything about us, he would have concluded that neither of us was naturally endowed with the best building blocks for confidence, although he too thought our oxytocin variant was likely a plus.

But, again, he reminded us, “It’s all probability, not actuality. The environment, epigenetics, is what turns genes on or off.” And he noted that, “People with the short strands are also more vigilant and adaptable, and perhaps more likely to survive dangerous situations in the long run.” We may be anxious, but we’ll survive. That thought offered a bit of comfort.

The way we saw it, we had two so-called bad genes for confidence and one good one. We are more likely to worry, and be anxious, but we have a natural optimism and warmth toward the world. At some moments in our lives, that does describe us, and yet, at other times, not at all.

For a few days the image of ourselves as stressed-out worriers unsettled us. Perfectionists that we are, we felt somehow that we’d failed a test and had produced weak strands. Our slightly exasperated husbands suggested maybe we shouldn’t have done the tests at all if the results were just going to make us more anxious. Then we came to realize something else about our supporting role in the nature/nurture debate. We had, both of us, clearly imposed our own natures onto our genetic footprints. We’d created those side roads and byways that neurologist Laura-Ann Petitto had described to us. Although we both have the same three gene variations, we’re hardly the same people personality-wise. Katty is much more decisive, while Claire is more deliberative, for example. Katty likes physical risk but is nervous about difficult confrontations. Claire has no problem picking up the phone to engage in an awkward negotiation but doesn’t relish throwing herself down the steepest slope a mountain has to offer. Maybe if we’d been younger, these genetic tests would have had more of an impact on us. As it was, they ended up intriguing us, but not defining us.

Moreover, if that serotonin transporter variant that we have, with those ominous short strands, is in fact a
sensitivity
gene, as Suomi believes, that means we are both more adaptable and reactive to our environment and that we very likely had good upbringings, since we’re basically happy and successful and stable. (We now have all sorts of new appreciation for our mothers, who may have done the same heroic work as Suomi’s rhesus mothers. Yes, his research suggests monkey mothers, at the moment, are more critical than fathers.)

We came to realize that the detour into our own genetics is much like the larger story of confidence we uncovered in our book. We may have started with sketchy DNA. We’ve both had to overcome nerves and stress and anxiety in our lives. But we’ve learned how. Our life experiences, we believe, outweigh any genetic dictates. The result has been that today we can actually work and perform with genuine self-assurance even in conditions of high stress. (Live television is nothing if not pure, undiluted, and immediate stress.)