False Positives: The Imposter Syndrome in Dataviz or “Is imposter syndrome even curable?“
It’s the moment I hate the most. The moment someone else introduces me, in an event or during a meeting. I’d start to stiffen, the smile on my lips becoming more and more forced until it turned almost into a painful grin and I’d try to hide the fidgeting of my hands behind a desk or the stage stand. If ever their factual introduction would become slightly laudatory, my nervousness would know no end and I would have to resist, no, to fight, the increasing fury of wanting to tear the floor down and reveal the big deception, as in The Tell-Tale Heart from Edgar Poe—“Take me! It’s a lie, all this has been a terrible lie!”
In terms of imposter syndrome, I’m your typical gale. On a scale of 1 to Mrs. Doubtfire, I score quite high, which I find to be very common among women of my age. We all seem to have brilliant carriers while simultaneously believing we’re the worst and could be arrested for scam at any time.
In my wildest fantasy, I’d be giving a talk in public when suddenly the police would come on stage and start to cuff me in front of the audience:
“Julie Brunet aka datacitron? You’re under arrest for making everyone believe you’re a professional data designer.”
“Wait, please, I can explain! it’s all a big misunderstanding…”
“Oh yeah? What about the business cards we found at your place?”
“They… they’re not for real! I never use them, I always forget them when I go to an event, ask anyone!”
“Keep your crappy excuses for the jury, you sickening phony”
Like I said, your typical gale.
I’ve been suffering from imposter syndrome all my life, along with pollen allergies. I believe it started at a very young age, in school (“Sure, it’s a 10 out of 10 but in reality, do I truly know my multiplication tables?) or on Christmas Eve (“Deep down, Santa Claus must know I’ve not been good all year around. Is he testing me? Should I give my presents back??”). Growing older, it became more and more painful, waiting for every exam to reveal the big fraud I was to the world, growing more and more restless and incredulous every time I passed hands down. Entering the professional world, it was only natural that my condition would accompany me at every moment.
As a freelancer, it means whenever I’m given a new mission, my first two reactions are to jump at the ceiling in joy and fall on the ground in despair. For this time, I won’t be able to pull it through and the long deception would finally come to light. And whenever I’ve finished a mission with a happy client and praises from my peers, my first two reactions are to jump at the ceiling in joy and fall on the ground in despair. For this time again, I was able to pull it through, God knows how, but next time I won’t, and the deeper I play along with this masquerade, the worse it’d be when it would all go down. Because when you have imposter syndrome, you can’t win. You live in fear of everything going south, but when everything goes well—which curiously, is usually the case—it’s only a reaffirming proof of your ability to deceive people and the frightening omen of your upcoming unmasking.
There’s no hope in trying to fix your syndrome by working harder or training yourself even more. Diplomas and certifications? They’re fake and you know very well how to fool the system. Every good answer you give is further proof that you’re cheating. Doing extra hours? Sure, but you could always do more. What if they learn you went on a walk instead of working? A walk!
When asked about how to address imposter syndrome (because, believe it or not, I’ve been asked that and I’ve answered, like I knew! The ultimate inception level of imposter syndrome), I said to focus on what you do, instead of what you are. For instance, instead of saying “I’m a baker,” say “I bake cakes.” Does it mean that you pour a ready-to-use cake mix in a tin every Wednesday for school or that you work a 12-hour shift in the patisserie of a Parasian palace? Who knows? It’s people’s job to assume and you can comfortably hide in that range.
But in datadesign, it’s a bit more tricky. It’s confusing enough when you say to people that you’re a data designer, if you start saying instead “I design charts,” you may just claim to be a certified moth trainer. The thing is, it’s difficult to say what you do exactly in datadesign when you do so many different things to begin with—assessing clients needs, understanding their data, translating them in visual form, defining a graphic style all the way from the charts to the fonts and colors, sometimes designing the entire layout of a website or a book, even creating illustrations if needed. And I just realize that, for an imposter, I may do far more than an actual professional. Does it mean that I’m bad at impostering? Could it be that I’m… an imposter of an imposter?! New level of imposter syndrome: unlocked.
And that’s the main issue with imposter syndrome: the more you try to reason with it, the more you unravel new layers of it. You sink deeper into it. There’s no escaping it. You can only make peace with it. Yes, you’re an imposter. So am I and so are they. We’re all faking and figuring out, saying we know when we don’t, saying we don’t when we know. The human comedy doesn’t stop when you start working and the lingering exertion of existing doesn’t pause behind our desk. We would like our professional life to be more tidy, more unclouded than our personal life but it’s rarely the case. At least, not when you work in data, it seems.
Like I said, it’s the moment I hate the most. The moment someone else introduces me. But it’s ok, because I’m trying to work on all this and also, let’s be honest, it’s always better than if I had to introduce myself. It’s the moment I hate the most but it’s gone now, it’s my turn to speak and it’s going to be fine. The truth is, I’m getting really good at imposter syndrome, you know? I’m a freaking good imposter now, I’m one of the best, really. Or, am I?
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Datacitron (aka Julie Brunet) is an independent data & information designer as well as the Creative Director of Nightingale, the journal of Datavisualization Society. She believes in the accessibility of information through design and storytelling, and the virtuous role data designers can play in our society
