#100: What I've learned about perfectionism - podcast episode cover

#100: What I've learned about perfectionism

Dec 13, 202424 minEp. 100
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Episode description

Friends, it's the 100th episode! So, isn't it about time we talked about what perfectionism is, and why it's a problem? It's over 4 years since I recorded the first episode of this podcast, and I've learnt a LOT about perfectionism from the 99 episodes I've released so far - not to mention from the many hundreds of hours of coaching people I've done. Leave that unfinished project, that untidy desk, and that incomplete task list, and join your old imperfectionist friend for some perfection-related truth bombs.

Transcript

It’s about time we talked about your perfectionism.

You’re listening to The Academic Imperfectionist. I’m Dr Rebecca Roache. I’m a coach and a philosopher at the University of London, and week by week I’ll be drawing on philosophical analysis and coaching insights to help you dump perfectionism and flourish on your own terms.

Hello imperfectionists. An extra special welcome to you. Why ‘extra special’? Well, because this is the final episode of 2024, and it’s also the 100th episode of this podcast! Can you believe it? I’m not sure I can. I can’t really remember what hopes or expectations I had when I first set out to do a podcast and recorded my very first episode. Did I expect to make it to 100 episodes? I don’t know. I’m not sure I thought that far ahead when I started out, and if I had, I would probably have doubted that I’d have enough to say to fill so many episodes - and yet here I am, still blathering on. I remember hoping, at the start, simply that people would like what I was trying to offer, and perhaps find it helpful and reassuring - and I’ve been delighted to find, from the steady trickle of lovely emails from listeners, that many of you do. It means a huge amount to hear that the podcast is valuable to you. That honestly makes it all worthwhile. The idea of the podcast occurred to me when I noticed how enthusiastically I myself devoured advice about writing struggles, imposter syndrome, procrastination and other staples of academic life. What I valued, I think, was not just the advice, but the intimation that these struggles are normal. I remember feeling shame and isolation about my habits and experiences - I was sure that I was a much bigger and more disorganised procrastinator than anyone else, and I definitely wasn’t going to admit to what my working life was really like, because then I’d be shunned. It would be like revealing myself to be a satanist at a Christmas church service, or so I thought. I was sure that nothing I was struggling with was normal. I suppose I set out to give the sort of advice that I would really have welcomed when I was starting out, and to normalise some of the struggles and help others feel less alone and less ashamed. I really appreciate the feedback that many of you have taken the trouble to send. Talking of which, for some reason, over the past couple of months, I’ve received a lot of emails from people wanting to share ideas about guest interviews - if you’ve been in touch and not received a reply, I’m sorry. This is all still a one-woman show - the one woman in question being a frazzled single parent with a full-time job and mostly unmedicated ADHD - and I’m confident that my inbox will hit a million unread emails by the time I die and that my children will have my gravestone inscribed with all the items on my task list that I never got around to doing (if they can find a block of marble big enough - they might need to engrave a QR code with a link to the full list). Why am I talking about my death? How incredibly festive of me. Anyway, one of the things I will eventually get around to doing relatively soon (maybe) is creating a form on my website that people can use to suggest guests for interview, so there may soon be some order arising from the current chaos.


So. What do I have in store for you for this special anniversary episode? Well, it occurred to me that, after recording 99 episodes of a podcast about perfectionism, perhaps I should get around to focusing on perfectionism: what it is, and why it’s a problem. I’m constantly mentioning perfectionism in passing, but I’ve not yet put it under the spotlight. Can you believe that? This, surely, should have been a topic for episode #1, not episode #100. I’d love to pretend that I’ve pulled some clever, meta-imperfectionist move by making a podcast about perfectionism while overlooking directly explaining perfectionism, but sadly that’s not the case. I just … didn’t notice. I have form for overlooking the obvious. I did the same thing with my book. You know, For F*ck’s Sake: Why Swearing is Shocking, Rude & Fun, published by Oxford University Press a little over a year ago, makes a great stocking-filler, so if you didn’t get around to gifting it to someone last holiday season, you’re about to get another chance. Forward slash sales pitch. Yes, that was an HTML tag joke - I never promised not to be a despicable nerd. Anyway, my book is, in large part, about what - if anything - is wrong with swearing. I wrote the entire book and the publisher sent it out for review, and one of the reviewers - the incredible Professor Karen Stohr - mentioned in her review that it was rather odd of me to write an entire book about the philosophy of swearing without at any point directly addressing the issue of whether it’s ever wrong, and if so, why. I read her review, and thought, ‘Oh shit, yeah, good call,’ and sat down to add another chapter. I have Professor Stohr to thank for chapter 4 of the book. Better late than never when it comes to writing about what’s wrong with swearing, and better late than never when it comes to talking about perfectionism, too.


Talking of which … how shall we characterise perfectionism? In short, it’s the belief that only perfection is good enough. That everything we do fits neatly into one of two mutually exclusive categories: either it’s perfect, or it’s rubbish. Just from that definition, you can see that perfectionism is a form of binary thinking - something that I’m constantly urging you to guard against on this podcast. In one sense, it’s very easy to see how implausible and misguided perfectionism is. Of course there’s space in between perfection and worthlessness. Of course things - our achievements or anything else - can be flawed without being worthless. In other words, that ‘perfect vs worthless’ binary of perfectionism is nonsense, because it overlooks the space in between. Not only that, but the space in between is all there is. Nothing is perfect - at least, nothing in the real world is perfect. We talked about this, didn’t we? All the way back in episode #68: Plato (and Barbie) on perfection. And nothing is worthless either - at least, none of your efforts are worthless. We’ve all spent time and energy on things that didn’t work out the way we hoped - articles that never got published, applications for jobs and grants and promotions that were unsuccessful, promising projects that ultimately turned out to be unworkable - but rarely are they utterly worthless. The successes we enjoy are in large part built out of the rubble of our failed efforts, using the skills and experience we developed while we were busy failing. Our failures are our apprenticeships. All of which is to say that perfectionism divides everything into categories that a moment’s reflection reveals don’t apply to anything. And yet so many of us struggle with perfectionism. So, what’s going on? Are we all just extremely stupid?


Well, no. There’s more to what’s going on with perfectionism than what I’ve just described. Even those of us who struggle with perfectionism don’t really believe in the ‘perfect vs worthless’ binary. You can see this by noticing the double standards that you apply to yourself compared to other people. I’ve heard countless people sincerely say ridiculously un-nuanced things about themselves like, ‘Everything I’m doing is worthless’, yet they would never describe another person’s efforts like that. Even when the other person is - as occasionally happens - a complete charlatan who has built their success by scamming and double-crossing other people. I’ve had coaching clients who, even after multiple coaching sessions, find it easier to see value in the Macchiavellian careers of straight-up Bond villain colleagues than they do to admit that maybe their own careers contain even a tiny sliver of something worthwhile. And the people applying these double standards are not idiots. They are, by anyone’s standards except their own, astonishingly successful, smart, interesting, original, creative thinkers. So, if the people I’m calling perfectionists don’t actually buy into the incoherent binary on which perfectionism is based, what makes them perfectionists?


It’s certainly a puzzle to work out how smart people can think like this. I think the solution to the puzzle lies in recognising that it’s not quite true to say that perfectionists believe that everything is either perfect or worthless. Or at least, there’s more to say about their beliefs than this. If you were to ask them to bet their life savings - or at least their next wage packet or grant installment or holiday fund - on this binary being an accurate way of dividing up the world, then I would bet my life savings - oh, ok, my next credit card payment - that they wouldn’t need a moment’s thought before their ‘no thanks’. They don’t think this is how the world is. They don’t think the perfectionism binary is true or accurate. They don’t view the world this way because they think it’s really this way. There’s something more pragmatic going on. Something more instrumental. It doesn’t matter to them whether or not the perfectionism binary is how things really are. What matters is that people in the grip of perfectionism believe that the most effective way to motivate themselves to keep on striving for success is to act as if the perfectionism binary were true. It’s a bit like that old-fashioned and rather nasty advice to stick an unflattering photo of yourself on your fridge door if you’re trying to lose weight. You know it’s not an accurate reflection of what you really look like all the time. You’ve chosen it precisely because you look - in your own eyes, at least - unusually terrible. What matters is that you think of yourself as looking this way, because that way - you hope - you’ll be less likely to reach for the chocolate mousse when you’re feeling sorry for yourself at 10pm. 


This helps explain why pointing out that perfection doesn’t exist or that it’s unachievable or that even imperfect things can be valuable can only take you so far if you’re struggling with perfectionism. I don’t mean that we shouldn’t be pointing those things out. We definitely should. Because you’re playing with fire if you adopt a perfectionist mindset, even if you start out - consciously or otherwise - adopting it for pragmatic reasons rather than because you think it’s an accurate reflection of how the world is. It ends up skewing your view of things anyway. So, let’s keep on hammering the message that perfection doesn’t exist. But even so, that alone is not going to cure perfectionism, because - as I’ve said - it doesn’t matter that perfection doesn’t exist. What matters is that perfectionists think it’s useful to believe in perfection, or at least to pretend to believe in perfection, although over time I think these two things blend together. So, even though perfection doesn’t exist, perfectionists want to continue to believe in it - even if they also recognise that perfectionism is holding them back. This clinging to the belief in perfection is behind that remark that I hear from coaching clients time and time again: ‘I don’t want to let myself off the hook’. They think that if they embrace the reality that perfection doesn’t exist, then they’ll stop trying, and then they’ll turn into a big old slob who never does anything useful. This is cognitive dissonance, of course: people who say this both believe and don’t believe that perfection is a realistic thing to strive for. It’s quite a feat of mental gymnastics. But, like I said, these are smart people. 


Now, I’ve talked before, plenty of times, about how that ‘I don’t want to let myself off the hook’ mindset is a mistake. It doesn’t help with motivation. The science tells us it doesn’t help with motivation - and anyway, you don’t need the science, because you already know this: everyone I’ve met who thinks it’s important to motivate themselves with meanness would never dream of trying to motivate another person with meanness, not solely because it’s mean, but also because they wouldn’t expect it to be effective.


Anyway, let me not cover old ground here. Before I go on, perhaps I’ll mention that the way I’m characterising perfectionism isn’t the way everyone characterises it. I’m concerned mainly with how we stand in our own way when we’re trying to accomplish things, so I’m focused mainly on perfectionism in our attitudes towards our own efforts. Perfectionism arises in other contexts too, that aren’t my focus here - parents can be perfectionistic about their children, for example, by subjecting their children to unachievably high standards, and that’s also a problem. There’s even something called perfectionism in moral philosophy, which means something quite different from what I’m talking about here. I’m setting that aside too. With that out of the way, what would lead anyone to think that believing in the perfectionism binary is going to be useful for them?


I’m going to give you my take here, based on the conversations I’ve had in coaching sessions, and more informally with colleagues, students, and smart, goal-oriented people in general. A common theme I’ve noticed in people with perfectionist tendencies is a lack of trust in themselves. They don’t trust themselves to apply themselves to work towards their goals unless they’re cracking the whip in some way - that’s the not-letting-myself-off-the-hook mindset. And they also don’t trust themselves to do even an adequate job. They think they’re so incompetent, so liable to make mistakes and mess things up, that if they embrace imperfection and tell themselves that it’s actually ok and expected and normal to make mistakes, they’ll end up making even more mistakes, and since the success they’ve seen so far is a fluke, a glitch in the matrix, a result of their pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes, they can’t afford to make any more mistakes because that will definitely push them below the bar  of adequacy that they’re barely hovering above, and that will be it for them. People who think in this way often don’t really understand why it would even matter whether they aim for what’s perfect or merely what’s good-but-achievable - either way, they’re sure it’s out of reach. Telling them to be realistic is like telling someone to stop trying to jump a kilometre into the air, and instead aim at only 10 metres. What does it matter? They’re not even going to make a metre, whatever they’re aiming for. 


It does matter, though, for all the reasons I’ve talked about over 99 episodes of this podcast, and more. Aiming for perfection dooms you to failure whatever you try. Trying and failing are the same thing, in this context. As soon as you start, you’ve failed if what you’re aiming for is perfection - simply because you’re an imperfect being in an imperfect world. The cruel truth is that people become perfectionists because they want to avoid failure - but instead, they guarantee it.


I want to return to that idea I mentioned earlier: that you’re playing with fire if you adopt a perfectionist mindset. By refusing to acknowledge that perfection is impossible, perfectionists need to come up with an explanation of why things - in particular, their own efforts - are flawed. That paper you just wrote, That class you just taught. That presentation you gave. Being able to look back on things like this and see where we could have done better is normal. And if you have a healthy attitude towards perfection, you have a way of avoiding taking this to heart. You might wish you’d approached some aspect of what you achieved in a different way - but if you readily accept that nothing’s perfect, it’s possible to get over this and move on, learn lessons for next time, even if you need to spend some time brooding over it first. But if you’re someone who’s aiming for perfection, and who has coached themself into believing that this is a sensible approach, your own shortcomings are not so easily dismissed. If that presentation you just gave didn’t go as well as you hoped, you’re not going to throw your hands up and say, ‘Hey, nobody’s perfect!’ Talk about letting yourself off the hook, right? Because you’re refusing to see flaws in your achievements as inevitable in our imperfect world, you need to explain them some other way. And where better to look than your own inadequacy? Your presentation didn’t go well because you’re flawed. You’re not good enough. Something that you ought to be viewing as evidence of an imperfect world, you end up viewing as evidence of your own failure. You’re paying a high price for your perfectionism.


So, here’s something for you to ponder. Whatever project is currently close to your heart, what counts as a successful outcome for you? Are your expectations of yourself realistic? Are they in line with what your expectations would be of another person - a colleague, a friend, someone you’re mentoring - if they were doing it? Would you approach things differently if your expectations of yourself were kinder, more achievable, more in line with what you’d regard as reasonable for another person? I’m asking these questions of myself, as much as I’m asking them of you. Let’s start with noticing when we might be getting carried away with the old perfectionism. We can work on the rest later. It’s a process.


That’s it from me, friends, until 2025. I’m taking a break for the holidays. The next episode will arrive on 10th January. I have some exciting treats for you to look forward to. I recently recorded two interviews for future episodes. One interview is with Professors Chris Rea and Tom Mullaney, authors of Where Research Begins - they have some fantastic insights on how to build a research project that you care about. And another interview is with Professor Stephanie Dunson, who is an academic and an absolute writing process ninja. I’ll be editing these over the next few weeks - in between taking some relaxing down-time with the family - and I’m excited to bring you these conversations, which I know you’re going to enjoy. Until then, happy holidays, whether and whatever you celebrate. Lots of love. 

I’m Dr Rebecca Roache, and you’ve been listening to The Academic Imperfectionist. If you enjoyed the episode, please subscribe on whatever podcast app you like to use. I want to help as many people as I can with these episodes, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d share the podcast with any friends who you think might find it useful, and if you’d consider leaving a review on your podcast app. If you’d like to support the podcast financially, you can do that at https://www.patreon.com/AcademicImperfectionist. For more information about me, the podcast, and my coaching, please visit the website - https://www.academicimperfectionist.com. You’ll find links there to The Academic Imperfectionist on Twitter and Facebook too. If you have an idea or a request for a future episode of The Academic Imperfectionist, please drop me a line, either via my website or by tweeting your idea with the hashtag #AcademicImperfectionist. Thank you for listening, and see you next time!


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