Transcript
Yowei Shah (0:05)
Hey.
Aparna Nancherla (0:05)
Hey, babe.
Yowei Shah (0:06)
Hi.
Kristen (0:08)
Okay, so if you had to write a billboard for this episode, what would it be?
Shankar Vedantam (0:16)
Jeez, this is not my strong suit. Hmm, let's see. Don't feel bad about who you are. Being quiet is also sick.
Aparna Nancherla (0:45)
This is Proxy. And I'm Yowei Shah, your emotional investigative journalist. Today, the case of the self loathing introvert who keeps wishing for personality puberty to hit. That's after the break.
N/A (1:16)
I'm Shankar Vedantam, here to tell you about a great mystery. That mystery is you. As the host of a podcast called Hidden Brain, I explore big questions about what it means to be human. Questions like, where do our emotions come from? Why do so many of us feel overwhelmed by modern life? How can we better understand the people around us? Discover your hidden brain. Find us wherever you get your podcasts.
Aparna Nancherla (1:56)
So there's a story I'm not proud of. A while ago, I had a brunch at my house. It was a brunch for local journalists, and on paper, it was a totally nice time. Around 10 people came, all women. The food was fucking awesome. Somebody made a breakfast casserole. Somebody else brought coconut rice with anchovy potato crisps. But here was the thing about this brunch. I'm not sure why. Maybe because a lot of us didn't know each other. Whatever the reason, at this brunch, sitting around my cramped dining table, I noticed that nobody was talking. Like, really?
Kristen (2:47)
It was painful.
Aparna Nancherla (2:52)
I'm used to being the quietest person in the room. But somehow I'd managed to gather an entire room full of people quieter than me. And at a certain point, I was like, I don't have a choice in the matter. I'm the party host.
Kristen (3:09)
I'm gonna have to get people talking.
Aparna Nancherla (3:13)
So I lobbed a few softball questions to the room. Favorite restaurant in Chinatown. How long has everyone lived here in Philadelphia? I hated the sound of my voice. When that ran dry, I started interrogating people about their jobs. Is there drama on your team? Are there good benefits? It felt like I was pulling teeth. Finally, the party was over. I said goodbye to the last person and shut the door. And then this really confusing thing happened. I'm ashamed to say this, but I was filled with revulsion at the people I just hosted. I was so relieved they were gone. I think I literally said out loud, I will never host an event like that again. And to be clear, I liked and admired everyone at the brunch. These were smart, nice, cool people. And who knows why no one was talking. Maybe they thought the host was being hella weird. It took me a while to figure out what was going on, that my disgust had nothing to do with the people at the brunch and everything to do with me because they reminded me of something I don't like about myself. The quiet, introverted part of me I've been trying to get rid of for years. And look, I know this is gross. I know it's a spectrum. I know that most people are a mix of introverted and extroverted. Introverts being quieter, more introspective and deliberate, really into alone time. And extroverts being more talkative, outgoing, energetic, really into socializing. And yes, I'm aware that lots of introverts are happy with their personalities. I would like to get there too, because for a long time I felt like my introversion was a character flaw I needed to fix. And apparently there's a reason for that. In her book Quiet, Susan Cain argues that we live in a culture where extroversion is the ideal personality type. She says it wasn't always this way. Back in the late 1800s, advice manuals mainly preached about character and inner virtue. But by the 1920s, the advice had flipped and self help guides were all about teaching how to make people like you and have a, quote, masterful personality. This shift coincided with industrialization and more and more Americans leaving their small towns and moving to cities where suddenly they had to make a good impression on all the strangers they were meeting. Fast forward to today and Kane says the extrovert ideal is still with us. It starts early in school, where quiet children are pushed into group activities and told to come out of their shell. And then in college, students are graded.
