The Dalai Lama once said that he wasn’t aware of how much the western mind doubted itself. It wasn’t much of a feature in Tibetan culture. As if in the West, we had to learn to doubt ourselves.
A Personal Encounter with Doubt
The other day I met someone I didn’t know for possible collaboration. On the surface, it looked like we were getting along, but my body was telling me otherwise. There was an increasing strain as the conversation progressed. And it was only afterward that I detected a competitive dynamic between us. I wasn’t getting some of the vital non-verbals cues from her (like warmth in eye contact) signalling that we were on the same team. So much so that when we parted ways, I felt this terrible sense of doubt. Like I wasn’t sure I was the person I thought I was. It was only afterward that I could recognise that this wasn’t an affirming interaction. Well, I could say that all that was my doubt, but something in me suspects there is a lot more to the story.
The Culture of Doubt in Individualistic Societies
Some personality types are more prone to doubt, but on the whole, no one is immune, especially in individualistic societies that characterise much of the West. It’s like we’re born into an ocean of doubt. Even if you looked like someone who didn’t doubt, you would be crazy not to. To feel self-assured and confident means you need to be at the top, and even then, there is a world awaiting your fall. Anything underneath the top means you have someone above you that has likely been trained in the art of making you feel insecure. That’s the thinking, right? Insecure people work harder and hang on to their jobs for dear life. But in truth, insecure people, although hardworking, do not give their best work. How could they? All our creative facilities come online when we feel safe enough.
A range of studies supports the idea that self-doubt is more a feature of individualistic cultures. Maybe I’m not the person I think I am. Maybe I don’t deserve what I think I do. Maybe I am not worth what I think I am are the results of feeling too much like a separate self having to do it all on my own. Individualistic cultures emphasise personal achievement, autonomy, and self-reliance. This can lead to greater self-scrutiny and pressure to meet high personal standards. In contrast, collectivist cultures, which emphasise group harmony and interdependence, often provide stronger social support networks that can buffer against self-doubt.
Research has also shown that people in individualistic cultures often tie their self-esteem to personal success and independence. This can make them more vulnerable to self-doubt when they perceive themselves as failing to meet these standards. That’s how it goes, right? We tie our worth to these yardsticks, and we can feel terrible when we perceive ourselves as not measuring up in whatever way we think we should be. But those standards again emerge from a society that has a lot to say about what individuals should be doing in order to meet these expectations. It’s near impossible, but we keep going, thinking one day I’ll get that assurance that I am enough after all. But that one day never comes, and more often than not, the doubt keeps growing. While individualistic societies often foster self-doubt, there are alternative cultural perspectives that offer a different approach.
Collaborative Cultures: An Alternative Perspective
Take the Ubuntu philosophy in Southern Africa. Ubuntu is a Nguni Bantu term meaning “humanity.” It is often translated as “I am because we are,” emphasising community, interconnectedness, and mutual care. Decisions are made collectively, extended families share responsibilities such as child-rearing and elder care, and communal work systems ensure everyone has enough. In its truest expression, it means group needs over the individual. I am a part of the very fabric of the group, so I treat others as I would want to be treated because I see them as not separate from me.
Another example is in Māori culture, where the principle of Te Aroha encompasses values like unity, respect, and collective responsibility. The marae serves as a central gathering place for discussing important issues and making decisions. The concept of whānau involves extended family members in decision-making and support networks. It’s about how we function together as a unit and for that, people need to be connected to the needs of others.
In Korean culture, they have the concept of Jeong, which refers to deep emotional bonds and interconnectedness. Decisions in workplaces are made by considering group harmony and consensus, communities provide collective support during times of need, and hierarchical relationships foster mentorship and collaboration, creating an environment focused on mutual support rather than competition.
Many of these cultures have changed or are changing because of exposure to Western ideals, but in their essence, they’re collectively focused. Individuals are well when the group is well. Of course, self-doubt is more of a feature in individualist societies. Why wouldn’t you doubt if all you had to rely on is little old me? But when we feel our place in the eyes of another, we get this superpower, we remember we have something unique to give. They see something in us, and we’re better for it. There is no doubt in that moment, we know in our bones that we are part of something much bigger.
The Power of Connection
This is the same reason that in bombings of England in WW2 actually lowered psychiatric admissions. It sounds totally counterintuitive, but it’s true. As much as the British government was preparing for much worse psychological suffering, the reverse happened. People had to pull together, and because of that psychological suffering, on the whole, was alleviated. In Mark Freeman’s book, “Priority of the Other,” he recites examples where the other only comes into focus under extreme circumstances like war and all manner of calamity.
In one such story, a firefighter, during a dangerous rescue operation, makes a critical decision to save a child from a burning building. The firefighter does not exit the burning, and another goes in to rescue him. Another three followed, and none came out. The worst part about it was that there was no child to save. The town fell into terrible grief, but it was in that moment that they felt their unity, the priority of the other coming into focus. But he argues, do we need to wait for disaster to feel these positive effects of unity? So far, it’s an open question, and it just may be that we are the ones that answer the question in the way that we lead our lives.
Much like the underworld of mycelium, there are infinite networks connecting the underground world, all part of the same life-giving project. Being connected to that field, that is what we are, is the antidote to doubt. You couldn’t doubt life itself, could you? And yet we forget that same force of life is inside us and not at all personal to us. It’s the fabric that runs through everything. Would you doubt that a river would keep flowing downstream?
Practical Strategies for Dealing with Doubt
They see something in me that I may not be able to see is what makes it possible to embody that quality. Now, you might say, well, that puts me in a bind because I had none of that. No one saw any glimmer of who I was, I had no chance of coming into that. Does my life need to depend on other people seeing me? Strange and powerless as it may sound, I would argue yes. We do actually depend on other people giving us a sense of belief in ourselves. We only exist in relationship. We give each other our belonging, as much as we give it to ourselves.
Returning to my own story, what did I do with all that doubt? The first thing that occurred to me is just to recognise doubt is in the room and it may not be as personal as it feels. I said to myself, mine is mine and hers is hers, and there is a pretty big piece of it that is neither of ours.
Second and most important, I remembered the people in my life that know me well and affirm who I am and what I aspire to become. I remembered my grandfather and how he used to look at me, the belief his eyes conveyed. He knew my behaviour fell short sometimes, but he never stopped believing in me. These are the bonds that are the antidote to our doubt, including the most important of all – our own relationship with ourselves.
In our journey through self-doubt, we’ve explored its roots in individualistic cultures and contrasted them with more collaborative societies. We’ve seen how connection and community can be powerful antidotes to the isolation that breeds uncertainty. From the Ubuntu philosophy to the unexpected unity found in wartime London, we’ve discovered that our strength often lies in our bonds with others.
As we navigate our own seas of doubt, let’s remember that we’re not alone in this struggle. The very fabric of life, like the interconnected mycelium beneath our feet, reminds us of our inherent connection to something greater than ourselves. Perhaps the key to overcoming self-doubt isn’t found in striving for individual perfection, but in recognising our place within a larger whole.
So the next time doubt creeps in, remember this: seek out those who see the best in you, just as my grandfather did for me. Cultivate relationships that affirm your worth and potential. And most importantly, recognise that your doubts don’t define you – your connections do. In embracing our interdependence, we not only combat our own doubts but contribute to a culture where everyone can thrive.
After all, in the grand tapestry of life, we are all threads – unique, essential, and unbreakably linked. We can weave a world where doubt has less power, and where the strength of our connections serves the whole.
