Berlynne Steenbergen

Contributor

Photo Via Vox

There is a misconception that the solution to common feelings like; not being brave enough to raise your hand in class or feeling like you don’t have enough friends, is confidence. Social media and beauty campaigns lure people into believing that confidence solves all; once you use the latest skincare product or sign up for a hot yoga class, everything else will fall into place and all your problems will disappear. But what happens when that fails? What is left? 

The idea of “inner confidence” has been pitched to us as a foolproof solution for all of life’s challenges for so long that it has become inescapable. Sociologist Rosalind Gill and professor Shani Orgad introduced this idea in their book Confidence Culture. They argue that imperatives thrown at people such as “love yourself” and “believe in yourself” don’t work—they simply imply that the only thing holding people back are mental blocks rather than the completely unrealistic expectations and standards set by society. In an interview with Vox, Gill described this idea clearly; “it’s like a cult in the way that it’s been placed beyond debate, who could be against confidence? Nobody could argue against it because it’s so taken for granted. I think it’s good to be suspicious of the things that get placed in that space where they can’t be interrogated at all”. 

After establishing what the “cult of confidence” is, we can then talk about the cultural ramifications. For example, woke-washing, similar to greenwashing (a form of advertising in which green PR and green marketing are used to persuade the public that an organization’s products, aims and policies are environmentally friendly—but with minimum effort or any actual results) is a type of performative capitalism. Companies often brand themselves as being ‘woke’ because they know that being “progressive” is now monetizable. That is what people expect from the companies they buy from; a certain level of political awareness. It

makes people feel better about themselves; buying from ‘woke’ companies affirms their own ’wokeness’. However, the reason that this is all performative is that the values these companies are promoting are unfortunately not being reflected in the companies’ internal structures. For example, many beauty, skincare, and diet companies create a link between confidence and outer appearance, as if true confidence can only come from looking a certain way. They do this to raise the sales of their products, not because they care about the mental health of consumers. Gill and Orgad’s book Confidence Culture argues that while these inspiring messages of confidence may seem progressive and positive, they do not address the underlying systemic issues that cause people to feel inadequate in the first place. 

“#SelfCare” first went mainstream in 2016, the term spiking in Google searches a week after Donald Trump was first elected. It originally came from Black activists pushing a way to deal with systemic oppression. Self-care, in its original sense, was a form of protest and was supposed to be aligned with community care, which is exactly what it sounds like: caring for and lifting up the people around you. Now, in 2024, the term ‘self-care’ is not as much of a buzzword as it once was. There are fewer self-care guides on the internet but they have been replaced with, for example, “50 self-affirmations to say to yourself in the morning”, “how to be ‘that girl’”, or “the 30 best anti-aging skincare products.” All of these fall under the umbrella of the self-care movement, which is connected to our universal desire to improve ourselves and those around us. 

Self-care is also currently heavily tied in with spending money—buying detox teas, manifestation journals, 30$ yoga classes, bath bombs, or green smoothies. While these products are inherently good for you, the main goal is to get people to spend money. The problem with self-care marketing is that people, mostly feminine presenting people, are told that they have to follow a certain routine to get to their most confident selves. All the steps in that routine have to do with spending money, and if you don’t have the money, you’re out of

luck. It enforces the idea that your quality of life is dependent on arbitrary and costly steps. 

Ironically, none of these guides help you if you’re struggling with an actual mental illness. Sure, it’s great to be reminded to drink water, do pilates, and put on a facemask, but these clickable, Instragram-worthy suggestions are not going to help you unpack your childhood trauma or deal with your eating disorder. The universal “confidence deficit” is a systemic issue, and the only way to raise people’s self-esteem is to fix the set unrealistic standards. The only way to escape the cult is through collective action like education reform, mental health advocacy, and the fostering of intersectional inclusivity.