Your Academic Identity is built on a dangerous lie
Some brutal truths about academic perfectionism
If you’re anything like most academics I know, you grew up as the smart kid ™.
Your identity was built on your ability to fly through every test and have a flawless academic record.
But this badge of honour, this pristine personality, has a dark side.
In all likelihood, you now also harbour an ever-present fear of failure and an extreme aversion to risk. If anything could result in you looking less than perfect…well… it’s a no from you.
Which is, quite frankly, a bit of a problem when it comes to academic outreach.
With every piece of public engagement—be it a tweet, a blog post, or a lecture—you’re compelled to live up to your pristine image, which kind of turns academic outreach into a minefield.
This constant need to be 100% right means you might be avoiding platforms like social media because the prospect of public scrutiny, honestly, terrifies you.
The idea of making even a small mistake in front of anyone (let alone thousands of people *not me worried about my mistakes being caught by thousands of angry people when I only have 10 subscribers*) can be paralysing.
Instead of embracing the messiness of intellectual exploration, you’re stuck in a loop of perfectionism, where every error feels like a blow to your lifelong identity of being the all knowing ~smart one~.
And it makes sense.
As humans we have evolved to be hyper conscious of risk- our ancestors had to carefully watch for threats like predators, and any mistake could lead to physical injury or being cast out from the safety of the group…which in turn could lead quite literally to death 💀
Those who were more aware of potential dangers survived, leaving us evolutionarily hardwired to be cautious.
So, for you, the fear of being wrong isn’t just about making an error, it’s a threat to your identity that taps into a deeper worry of being rejected/losing your established place in the group.
But we need to remember that this fear, while understandable, isn’t as bad as our ancestors facing lions or life alone in the wilderness.
It’s just not.
And it’s the disproportionate worry that is a real blocker.
Sure no one wants to be left foraging for funding, but, if you think about it, with academic funding and jobs increasingly dependent on outreach and impact NOT doing it could turn out to be risker path…take that evolutionary fear 🥊
How else is it impacting you?
I’ve seen it time and time again, not only does this make us cautious on a granular level (each tweet, each radio appearance) this mindset can also lead to overthinking whole projects before they even begin.
You might spend hours or even days refining ideas, worrying that if your outreach doesn’t take off immediately, it will be seen as a disastrous misstep.
“How will I ever get another academic job if they see my posts only get 30 likes and one of them is my mum?!”
Funny how you want lots of people to see and engage from the get go, but you are simultaneously afraid of lots of people having their eyes on your work 👀
Make it make sense.
This exhaustive internal dialogue discourages you from reaching out and stifles the creative risk-taking that is part and parcel of genuine public engagement.
In doing so, you inadvertently play small—keeping your innovative insights safely buried in your academic articles and conferences rather than sharing them with the world.
“Wouldn’t it be great if we did this awesome outreach project?”
“Yeah that would be totally awesome one day, when we’ve prepped for five years and mapped out every possible outcome!”
Effective academic outreach isn’t about presenting an untouchably perfect record; it’s about inviting people into the messy, exciting process of discovery.
And, what’s more, embracing vulnerability and the possibility of failure can spark real, meaningful dialogue with people outside of the university system.
I recently worked on a project that looked at how the language of ancient migration was similar to that of how modern refugees conceive of their identities. It involved actually talking to groups of refugees and for the academics involved to listen to these experiences instead of trying to be ‘right’ from the start about what the relationship would be.
Could these discussions have proven initial thoughts about the topic wrong? Absolutely.
Could these discussions have shown that ancient ideas are not only irrelevant here but harmful? Potentially.
But that’s what it was all about. Opening the conversation and being humble enough to learn from eachother.
And that was what ultimately made the impact in the project. Not a one way stream of knowledge from some perfect academic figure-head, but the exchange, the sharing, the working it out together.
So maybe it’s time to rethink your “smart kid” persona and realise that authenticity and imperfection is the best way to create connection and impact- get stuck in, try things, fluff your speech and remind people you’re only human. It's actually quite freeing.
Still not convinced? Maybe Faceless academic outreach would be a good place to start: