In this whirligig of a world, we run into the topic with the confident daily. Human behavior can sometimes be as perplexing as a show: despite our culture’s heavy emphasis on fostering confidence, we often turn a blind eye to where it really comes from (or if it is even confidence at all). Many build their confidence on shaky ground. Are these traits we admire as confidence truly the genuine? Where do these feelings spring from?

Ignorance 

Ignorance, strangely enough, often breeds more confidence than knowledge. It’s odd but true that confidence can sprout from the barren soil of ignorance. A few years back, I stumbled upon a study intended as a jest by its author, the so-called Dunning-Kruger Effect. This theory sketches a cognitive distortion where folks lacking knowledge and experience in a task tend to inflate their abilities. Those short on skill often swim in a self-made sea of illusory superiority, blind to objectively assessing others’ capabilities. Few souls are willing to admit they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel, hence we puff up our abilities to shield our fragile egos. If you’re incompetent, chances are you don’t know you’re incompetent. Cognitive bias is this merry dance we do based on scant information, convincing ourselves we know all there is to know. Believing they’ve mastered all, folks fail to see the limits of their own knowledge, leading to a dangerous overconfidence that might just rear up and bite them when they tread into unknown territories. This leads to a ricochet of doubts about their own and others’ perceptions of their capabilities. We tend to overestimate our abilities and qualities, yet, curiously, those truly adept often undervalue their skills, figuring that if something’s easy for them, it must be just as easy for everyone else. We often tag the former as confident and the latter as lacking confidence.

Belief 

Then there’s the type of confidence that comes dressed up as belief—be it in religion, philosophy, or personalized creeds. Beliefs endow folks with a power that transcends the mundane. In the face of hardship and uncertainty, these beliefs turn into mental pillars. For instance, someone convinced of heaven’s existence might display remarkable composure in the face of sickness and death. Yet, this confidence from belief can cut both ways. When external realities clash with cherished beliefs, confidence can shatter like a dropped vase. When faith is tested, beliefs that seemed indestructible may suddenly be on shaky ground. Confidence, you see, ought to be just that—confidence without strings attached, stemming straight from the heart. If the heart needs something to cling to, then confidence becomes a diminishing affair. Confidence should be an absolute, but in the real world, it’s rare to see the unadulterated kind because our minds like to see both sides of every coin. Everything external providing a sense of confidence is fleeting, hence the emergence of religion, offering an unbeatable something to believe in. Religions don’t get tangled in worldly squabbles; they address our deepest fears, providing solace even at death’s doorstep. But when calamity strikes from human evils rather than natural causes—say, during massacres or national disasters—where do the gods scamper off to? That’s when you might see a figure of absolute confidence rise, a visionary who uses everything as mere tools in a grand narrative they’ve spun. Craft a grand enough tale, and you might start believing it yourself, forging a confidence that can stand the test of time—unless, of course, your fantasies take a dark turn, which can be a perilous affair indeed.

Empiricism 

“I’ve done this before, or I’ve seen others pull it off, so I reckon I can keep the streak alive.” Does capability foster confidence, or does confidence breed capability? That’s a chicken-or-egg question if I ever heard one. Confidence shouldn’t lean on past successes—they only prove what’s been, not what’s to come. Whether capability or confidence comes first, each has its merits, like debating whether the chicken or the egg came first. There’s no absolute, no clear winner in such debates. Friedrich Hayek once remarked that perhaps the greatest threat to the cause of liberalism was the stubbornness of some liberals who clung to empirical rules of thumb, championing laissez-faire principles too fervently. The trouble with empiricism is that it can lead to dogmatism and a narrow, one-sided view of understanding. When new phenomena pop up, empiricism digs into the past for answers, but misapplying old lessons to new problems can lead you astray. Consider the odd case in some cities where more cops seem to invite more crime, leading to the erroneous conclusion that more police cause more crime. The truth could be more mundane—maybe it’s just that there are more people around. It’s a flaw in our reasoning that reminds us we can never grasp all the variables at play. Folks often like to absolutize issues rather than getting to the heart of the matter and making decisions based on real circumstances. Remember, it’s crucial not to take others’ or passed conclusions as gospel—they might not fit your bill at all.

Approval 

Human as social creatures, only a rare few of us reach the point where we don’t need others’ approval. Deep down, everyone has a tendency to seek approval—it’s part of our genetic makeup that keeps our social bonds strong and our communities cohesive. Thus, there’s no need to doggedly pursue indifference to others’ approval. Seeking others’ nod is fundamentally about ensuring our psychological and physical “safety.” Our preoccupation with gaining others’ approval stems largely from our own inadequacies. Real self-acceptance comes from an honest assessment of one’s actions, not just wishful thinking. You can fool others, but never yourself. Say you decide to wake up at 7:30 AM to exercise before work but always end up rolling out of bed at 8:00 AM. Sure, it doesn’t affect your job, and you might reassure yourself that a little tardiness in the morning doesn’t matter. But deep down, you’re already scoring yourself down for not living up to your own expectations. In society, both overt and covert standards gauge what’s considered beautiful, successful, or desirable. Once you realize whether others accept you depends on your actions, you might find it more fruitful to focus on excelling in what you do rather than chasing their approval. Not deceiving oneself is the first step toward maturity. Establishing one’s value system and logical framework isn’t something that can be concocted out of thin air—it’s built through engagement with the real world and thoughtful reflection. Hoist one’s own standards as the measure of the universe, and then to fault others for not tipping their hats to them, is indeed a confoundedly bullshit affair.