Book Summary: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain

The introvert/extrovert divide is the most fundamental dimension of personality. Psychologist Carl Jung was the first to popularize the terms introverts and extroverts as the central building blocks of personality. Introverts are drawn to the inner world of thoughts and feelings, and extroverts to the external life of people and activities. Introverts focus on the meaning they make of the events swirling around them; extroverts plunge into the events themselves. Introverts recharge their batteries by being alone; extroverts need to recharge when they don't socialize enough.
Our lives are shaped profoundly by where we fall on the introvert-extrovert spectrum. It influences our choice of friends, how we make conversations, resolve differences, our choice of careers and whether or not we succeed at them. Yet today, we make room for a narrow range of personality styles. We're told that to be great is to be bold, to be happy is to be sociable. We see ourselves as a society of extroverts, even when research has shown that actually one third of us are introverts, meaning even if you're not an introvert yourself, you're constantly interacting with them, are friends with them, raising them or probably married to them.
If this is surprising, it's maybe because many of us pretend to be extroverts. It makes sense because we live in the world where extroversion is idealized. We like to think we value individuality, but all too often we admire one type of individuality - the kind who's comfortable "putting himself out there". However, we do allow technologically gifted introverts who launch companies in their garages to have any personality they please, but they are the exceptions, not the rule. Extroversion is an enormously appealing personality type, but we've turned it into an oppressive standard to which most of us feel we must conform.
Although when we think about it, some of our greatest ideas, art, and inventions came from the quiet and cerebral people who knew how to tune in to their inner worlds and the treasures to be found there. Without introverts, we wouldn't have personal computers, the theory of gravity or Harry Potter. Even in less obviously introverted occupations, like finance, politics and activism, some of the greatest leaps forward were made by introverts.
So how did we get here? During the industrial revolution, the western culture shifted from "Culture of Character" to "Culture of Personality". In Culture of Character, the ideal self was serious, disciplined, and honorable. What counted was not so much the impression one made in public as how one behaved in private. But when we embraced Culture of Personality, we started to focus on how others perceived us. People became captivated by people who were bold and entertaining. The rise of the industrial revolution was a major force behind this cultural evolution. Agricultural societies began evolving into urban societies. In the agricultural days, people lived in small farms or towns and interacted mostly with people they'd known since childhood. But in the urban society, people found themselves no longer working with neighbors, but with strangers. As the strangers obviously didn't get to know one another since childhood, they had to rely on personality traits of the other to better understand one another. This was also the time when salesmanship was at it's peak.
At the onset of Culture of Personality, we were urged to develop an extroverted personality as a way of outshining the crowd in a newly anonymous and competitive society. But nowadays, we think that being more extroverted not only makes us more successful, but also makes us better people. We see salesmanship as a way of sharing one's gifts with the world.
This meant parents of the mid-century (and even now) agreed that quiet was unacceptable and gregariousness ideal for their children. If you're an introvert, you may have overheard your parents apologize for your shyness. Or at school you might have been prodded to "come out of your shell" (that expression which fails to appreciate that some animals naturally carry shelter everywhere they go, and that some humans are just the same). But parents caught up in this value system were not unkind, or even obtuse; they were only preparing their kids for the "real world". Truly, when the children grew up and applied to college and later for jobs, they faced the same standards of gregariousness.
Of course, extroversion is not a modern invention. According to some psychologists, extroversion is in our DNA. The trait has been found to be less prevalent in Asia and Africa than in Europe and America, whose populations descend largely from the migrants of the world. It makes sense that travelers were more extroverted than those who stayed at home, and they passed on their traits to their children and their children's children. Fast-forward a hundred years, and we have syllabi for high school students, who inhabit a world in which status, income and self-esteem depend more than ever on the ability to meet the demands of the Culture of Personality. The pressure to entertain and to sell ourselves keeps ratcheting up. The number of Americans who considered themselves shy increased from 40 percent in the 1970s to 50 percent in the 1990s, probably because we measured ourselves against ever higher standards of fearless self-presentation. Must we, therefore, learn to stage-manage our voices, gestures, and body language until we can tell/sell any story we want? These seem venal aspirations, a marker of how far we've come - and not in a good way.
In the modern world, we perceive leaders to act confidently and make decision in the face of incomplete information. We value quick and assertive leadership style over quiet and slow decision-making. We tend to follow those to initiate action - any action. Likewise, we are similarly inclined to empower dynamic speakers, but we fail to distinguish between good presentation skills and true leadership ability. We put too much premium on presenting and not enough on substance and critical thinking. Furthermore, we tend to overestimate how outgoing leaders need to be. In reality, most major leading in a corporation is done in small meetings. Many of the best performing companies of the late twentieth century were run by CEOs, who were known not for their flash or charisma, but for extreme humility coupled with intense professional will. Those who worked with these leaders tended to describe them as quiet, humble, modest, reserved or understated. We don't need giant personalities to transform companies, we need leaders who build not their egos, but the institutions they run.
So what do introverted leaders do differently from extroverted leaders? Extroverted leaders enhance group performance when employees are passive, while introverted leaders are more effective with proactive employees. Because of their inclination to listen to others and lack of interest in dominating social situations, introverts are more likely to hear and implement suggestions. Having benefited from the talents of their followers, they are then likely to motivate their employees to be even more proactive, creating a virtuous circle of proactivity. Extroverts, on the other hand, can be so intent on putting their stamp on events, that they risk losing others' good ideas along the way and allowing workers to lapse under passivity. But with their natural ability to inspire, extroverted leaders are better at getting results from more passive employees. To understand how to maximize these contributions is an important tool for all leaders. It's important for companies to groom both listeners as well as extroverts for leadership roles.
Even as employees, many of us work for organizations that insist we work in teams, in offices without walls, for supervisors who value "people skills" above all. Consider Steve Wozniak, who designed and programmed the first Apple computer. Did he meet with his fellow computer club members to work on his design? No. Did he seek out a big, open office space to work in? No. When you read his account of his work process on that first PC, the most striking thing is that he was always by himself. He describes this period of quiet as "the biggest high ever". In the breakthrough moment when the computer finally functioned as imagined, he was alone when it happened. In his memoir, he offers this advice to kids who aspire to great creativity:
Most inventors and engineers I've met are like me - they're shy, and they live in their heads. They're almost like artists. In fact, the very best of them are artists. And artists work best alone where they can control an invention's design without a lot of people designing it for marketing or some other committee. I don't believe anything really revolutionary has been invented by committee. If you're that rare engineer who's an inventor and also an artist, I'm going to give you some advice that might be hard to take. That advice is: work alone. You're going to be best able to design revolutionary products and features if you're working on your own. Not on a committee. Not on a team. - Steve Wozniak
Researchers found that the more creative people tended to be socially poised introverts. They were interpersonally skilled, but "not of an especially sociable or participative temperament". They described themselves as independent and individualistic. As teens, many had been shy and solitary. However, these findings do not mean that introverts are always more creative than extroverts, but they do suggest that in a group of people who are extremely creative throughout their lifetimes, you're likely to find a lot of introverts.
But why should this be true? Do quiet personalities come with some ineffable quality that fuels creativity? There's a less obvious yet surprising explanation for this - an explanation that everyone can learn from: introverts prefer to work independently, and solitude can be a catalyst to innovation. Introversion concentrates the mind on the tasks in hand, and prevents the dissipation of energy on matters unrelated to work. In other words, if you're in the backyard sitting under a tree, while everyone else is clinking glasses, you're more likely to have an apple fall on your head.
If this is true - if solitude is an important key to creativity - then we might all want to develop a taste for it. We'd want to teach our kids to work independently. We'd want to give employees plenty of privacy and autonomy. Yet increasingly we do just the opposite. The way we organize many of our important institutions - our schools and our workplace - tells a very different story. It's the story of a contemporary phenomenon that has the potential to stifle productivity at work and to deprive schoolchildren of the skills they'll need to achieve excellence in an increasingly competitive world. The amount of space per employee shrank from 500 square feet in the 1970s to 200 square feet in 2010. Similarly, in many elementary schools, the traditional rows of seats facing the teacher has been replaced with "pods" of four or more desks pushed together to facilitate group learning activities. Even subjects like math and creative writing, which would seem to depend on solo flights of thoughts, are often taught as group projects.
The cooperative approach has politically progressive roots too - the theory is that students take ownership of their education when they learn from one another. In addition, it also trains kids to express themselves in terms of the culture of corporate America. "Today the world of business works in groups, so now the kids do it in school." This style of teaching reflects the business community, where people's respect for others is based on their verbal abilities, not their originality or insight. It's elitism is based on something other than merit. You have to be someone who speaks well and calls attention to yourself. Cooperative learning enables skills in working as teams - skills that are in dire demand in the modern workplace.
But this approach did not arise at one precise moment. Cooperative learning, corporate teamwork, and open office plans emerged at different times and for different reasons. But the mighty force that pulled these together was the rise of the World Wide Web. On the internet, wondrous creations were produced via shared brainpower. Linux, the open source operating system, Wikipedia, the online encyclopedia, etc. These collective productions, exponentially greater than the sum of their parts, were so awe-inspiring that we came to revere the hive mind, the wisdom of crowds, the miracle of crowd sourcing. But then we took a step further than the facts called for. We came to value transparency and to knock down walls - not only online but also in person. We failed to realize that what makes sense for the asynchronous, relatively anonymous interactions of the Internet might not work as well inside the face-to-face, politically charged, acoustically noisy confines of an open-plan office. Instead of distinguishing between online and in-person interaction, we used the lessons of one to inform our thinking about the other. The earliest open-source creators didn't share office space - often they didn't even live in the same country. Their collaborations took place largely on the Internet. This detail shouldn't be overlooked. If you had gathered the same people who created Linux, arranged them in a giant conference room for a year, and asked them to devise a new operating system, it's doubtful that anything so revolutionary would have occurred.
This is not just a phenomenon in the tech world. Researchers found that what separated best musicians from the rest is that they spent significantly more time practicing in solitude. Similarly, "serious study alone" is the strongest predictor of skill for tournament-rated chess players. For example, chess grandmasters spent five times as many hours as intermediate chess players studying the game by themselves during their first ten years of learning to play. College students who tend to study alone learn more over time than those who work in groups. Even elite athletes in team sports often spend unusual amounts of time in solitary practice.
What's so magical about solitude? The answer is: it's only when you're alone that you can engage in Deliberate Practice, which is identified as the key to exceptional achievement. When you practice deliberately, you identify the tasks or knowledge that are just out of your reach, strive to upgrade your performance, monitor your progress, and revise accordingly. Deliberate Practice requires intense concentration and deep motivation, often self-generated. But most importantly, it involves working on the task that's most challenging to you personally. Only when you're alone, you can go directly to the part that's challenging to you. If you want to improve what you're doing, you have to be the one who generates the move. In a group environment, you're the one generating the move only a small percentage of the time.
Going back to Steve Wozniak's story, it is clear that he had deliberately practiced engineering ever since he was a kid. Firstly, he was motivated. He believed that engineers could change people's lives and were among the key people in the world. Secondly, he built his expertise step by step painstakingly. He had been patient in learning the basics and perfecting every step one at a time without worrying so much about the outcome. Thirdly, he often worked alone. This was not necessarily by choice. Like many technically inclined kids, he took a painful tumble down the social ladder when he got to junior high school. As a boy, he'd been admired as a science prowess, but nobody seemed to care. He hated small talk, and his interests were out of step with those of his peers. But the awkwardness of those years didn't defer him from pursuing his dream; it probably nurtured it. He would have never learned so much about computers, Woz says now, if he hadn't been too shy to leave the house.
No one would choose this sort of adolescence, but the fact is that the solitude of Woz's teens, and the single minded focus on what would turn out to be a lifelong passion, is typical for highly creative people. Indeed, many creative people in the arts, sciences, business, and government seemed to be on the social margins during adolescence, partly because "intense curiosity or focused interest seems odd to their peers". For instance, as a young boy, Charles Darwin made friends easily but preferred to spend his time taking long, solitary nature walks. As we can now see, exceptional performance depends not only on the groundwork we lay through Deliberate Practice; it also requires the right working conditions. And in contemporary workplaces, these are surprisingly hard to come by.
Open-plan offices have been found to reduce productivity and impair memory. They're associated with high staff turnover. Open-plan workers are more likely to have elevated stress levels; they worry about coworkers eavesdropping on their phone calls and spying on their screens. They have fewer personal and confidential conversations with colleagues. They're often subject to loud and uncontrollable noise, and makes people socially distant, quick to anger, aggressive, and slow to help others. As we have already seen, excessive stimulation seems to impede learning. Moreover, the simple act of being interrupted is one of the biggest barriers to productivity.
"None of us is as smart as all of us" - Warren Bennis
If personal space is vital to creativity, so is freedom from "peer pressure". It is often believed that groups - once freed from the shackles of social judgment - produced more and better ideas than did individuals working in solitude. However, studies have shown that performance gets worse as group size increases. Psychologists usually offer three explanations for the failure of group brainstorming. The first is social loafing: in a group, some individuals tend to sit back and let others do the work. The second is production blocking: only one person can produce an idea or talk at a time, while the other group members are forced to sit passively. And the third is evaluation apprehension: the fear of looking stupid in front of one's peers. The problem with evaluation apprehension is that there's not much you can do about it. You'd think that you could overcome it with will or training or a set of non-judgmental group rules. But research in neuroscience suggests that the fear of judgment runs much deeper and has more far-reaching implications than we ever imagined.
The one exception where group brainstorming does work is when it is conducted electronically. When properly managed, not only do they perform better than individuals, research shows; the larger the group, the better it performs. This shouldn't come as a surprise, as we have seen, it was the curious power of electronic collaboration that contributed to successes like Linux and Wikipedia. The same is true of academic research - professors who work together electronically, from different physical locations, tend to produce research that is more influential than those either working alone or collaborating face-to-face. But we're so impressed by the power of online collaboration that we've come to overvalue all group work at the expense of solo thought. We fail to realize that participating in an online working group is a form of solitude all on its own. Instead we assume that the success of online collaborations will be replicated in the face-to-face world.
Of course, it's not to say that all face-to-face collaborations are counterproductive. Steve Wozniak collaborated with Steve Jobs, after all; without their pairing, there would be no Apple today. Indeed, studies show that face-to-face interactions create trust in a way that online interactions can't. The way forward, is not to stop collaborating face-to-face, but to refine the way we do it. We should actively seek our symbiotic introvert-extrovert relationships, in which leadership and other tasks are divided according to people's natural strengths and temperaments. The most effective teams are composed of a healthy mix of introverts and extroverts. We need to create settings in which people are free to circulate in a shifting kaleidoscope of interactions, and to disappear into their private workspaces when they want to focus or simply be alone. Schools should teach children the skills to work with others - cooperative learning can be effective when practiced well and in moderation - but also the time and training they need to deliberately practice on their own. It's also vital to recognize and accept that many people - especially introverts like Steve Wozniak - need extra time, quiet and privacy in order to do their best work.
As mentioned before, introversion and extroversion are partly in our DNA. Psychologist Jerome Kagan studied this by following children from infancy to adolescents and categorized children into two groups: "high reactive" and "low reactive". Infants who cried lustily and pumped their arms and legs to new stimuli were categorized as high reactive, and infants who remained quiet and placid without the dramatic limb-pumping were categorized as low reactive. Kagan predicted that the infants in the high reactive groups were most likely to grow into quiet teenagers. The high reactive babies were thought to be more sensitive to their environments. These infants who wiggle and howl when shown unfamiliar objects would grow up to be children who were more likely to feel vigilant when meeting new people.
And this is just what he found. The four-month-olds who thrashed their arms did so because their bodies reacted strongly to new sights, sounds and smells. The quiet infants were silent because they had nervous systems that were unmoved by novelty. This marks a dramatic breakthrough in our understanding of these personality styles - including the value judgments we make. Extroverts are sometimes credited with being "pro-social" - meaning caring about others - and introverts disparaged as people who don't like people. But the reaction of infants in Kagan's tests had nothing to do with people. These babies were shouting over popping balloons or moving Q-tips. The highly reactive babies were not misanthropes in the making, they were simply more sensitive to their environment.
The sensitivity of these children's nervous system seemed to be linked not only to scary things, but to noticing in general. High-reactive children pay more attention to people and things. They use more eye movements than others to compare choices before making a decision. It's as if they process more deeply - sometimes consciously, sometimes not - the information they take in about the world. High-reactive kids also tend to think and feel deeply about what they've noticed, and to bring an extra degree of nuance to everyday experiences. If the child is socially oriented, she may spend a lot of time pondering her observations of others. If he has a particular interest, he'll often concentrate with unusual intensity. If a high-reactive toddler breaks another child's toy by mistake, studies show, she often experiences a more intense mix of guilt and sorrow than a low-reactive child would. All kids notice their environments and feel emotions, of course, but high reactive kids seem to see and feel things more.
High-reactive kids are more likely to develop into artists, writers, scientists and thinkers because their aversion to novelty causes them to spend time inside the familiar - and intellectually fertile - environment of their heads. On the other hand, low-reactive, extroverted children, can grow up to be energetic achievers with big personalities.
But are biological explanations for introversion wholly satisfying? Can we really reduce an introverted or extroverted personality to the nervous system its owner was born with? The answer is: No. It is shown that such genes are inherited with a probability up to 50 percent. However, heritability rate of 50 percent doesn't necessarily mean that one's introversion is 50 percent inherited from parents. One hundred percent of introversion might come from genes or none at all. It's the intricate interaction between nature and nurture that makes us who we are.
Dr. Carl Schwarz is Kagan's colleague and his work picks up where Kagan's studies of personality left off. Kagan followed his subjects from infancy into adolescence, but Schwarz wanted to see what happened to them after that, when they turned into adults. He found out that the footprints of a high- or low-reactive temperament never disappeared in adulthood. Some high-reactives grew into socially fluid teenagers who were not outwardly rattled by novelty, but they never shed their genetic inheritance.
Schwarz's research suggests something important: we can stretch our personalities, but only up to a point. Our inborn temperaments influence us, regardless of the lives we lead. A sizable part of who we are is ordained by our genes, by our brains, by our nervous system. However, the elasticity that Schwarz found in some of the high-reactive teens also suggest the converse: we have free will and can use it to shape our personalities. However, free will can take us far, but it cannot carry infinitely beyond our genetic limits. We might call this the "rubber band theory" of personality. We are like rubber bands at rest. We are elastic and can stretch ourselves, but only so much. This helps explain why many high-reactive kids retain some of the aspects of their temperament all the way into adulthood, no matter how much social experience they acquire or free will they exercise. This ability to stretch ourselves - within limits - applies equally to extroverts too.
Even though we can reach for the outer limits of our temperaments, it can often be better to situate ourselves squarely inside our comfort zones. Once you understand introversion and extroversion as preferences for certain levels of stimulation, you can begin consciously trying to situate yourself in environments favorable to your own personality - neither overstimulating nor under stimulating, neither boring nor anxiety-making. You can organize yourself in terms of "optimal levels of arousal", and by doing so feel more energetic and alive than before. People who are aware of their arousal levels, have the power to leave jobs that exhaust them and start new and satisfying businesses. They can hunt for homes based on the temperaments of their family members - with cozy window seats for the introverts and large, open living-dining spaces for the extroverts.
Dr. Elaine Aron is a research psychologist who has singlehandedly reframed what Jerome Kagan and others called high reactivity; she calls it "sensitivity", and along with her new name for the trait, she's transformed and deepened our understanding of it. While previous scientists based their theories on behavior observation based on outer simulation (social or sensory) and categorizing them as high-reactive and low-reactive, Aron studied the inner behavior of people.
According to her, highly sensitive people tend to be keen observers, who look before they leap. They arrange their lives in ways that limit surprises. They have difficulty when being observed (at work, or performing at a musical recital) or judged for general worthiness (e.g. job interviews). Highly sensitive people also process information about their environments - both physical and emotional - unusually deeply. They tend to notice subtleties that others miss (e.g. a light bulb burning a touch too brightly). The other thing Aron found about sensitive people is that sometimes they're highly empathetic. They tend to have unusually strong consciences. They avoid violent movies and TV shows; they're acutely aware of the consequences of a lapse in their own behavior. Highly sensitive kids are less likely than their peers to cheat or break rules, even when they think they can't be caught. And by six or seven, they're more likely to be described by parents as having high moral traits and fewer behavioral problems. Of course, having these traits doesn't mean that sensitive children are angels, they also have selfish streaks like everyone else.
In most settings, people use small talk as a way of relaxing into a new relationship, and only once they're comfortable do they connect more seriously. Sensitive people seem to do the reverse. They enjoy small talk only after they've gone deep. When sensitive people are in environments that nurture their authenticity, they laugh and chitchat just as much as anyone else.
It turns out that it's not only humans that divide into those who "wait and watch" and others who "just do it". More than a hundred species in the animal kingdom are roughly organized in the same way. Scientists have discovered that approximately 20 percent of the members of many species are "slow to warm up", while the other 80 percent are "fast" types who venture forth boldly without noticing much of what's going on. Aron believes that both types of animals exist because they have radically different survival strategies, each of which pays off differently and at different times. This is what's known as the trade off theory of evolution, in which a particular trait is neither all good nor all bad, but a mix of pros and cons whose survival value varies according to circumstance. The trade-off theory seems to apply equally for humans too.
Here are some of the things we know about the relative performances of introverts and extroverts at complex problem-solving. Extroverts get better grades than introverts during elementary school, but introverts outperform extroverts in high school and college. At university level, introversion predicts academic performance better than cognitive ability. One study tested 141 college students' knowledge of twenty different subjects, from art to astronomy to statistics, and found that introverts knew more than the extroverts about every single one of them. Introverts receive disproportionate numbers of graduate degrees. They've been shown to excel at something psychologists call "insightful problem solving".
The question is: why? Introverts are not smarter than extroverts. According to IQ scores, the two types are equally intelligent. And on many kinds of tasks, particularly those performed under time or social pressure or involving multitasking, extroverts do better. Extroverts are better than introverts at handling information overload. But introverts seem to think more carefully than extroverts. Extroverts are more likely to take a quick-and-dirty approach to problem-solving, trading accuracy for speed, making increasing number of mistakes as they go, and abandoning ship altogether when the problem seems too difficult or frustrating. Introverts think before they act, digest information thoroughly, stay on task longer, give up less easily, and work more accurately. Introverts and extroverts also direct their attention differently: if you leave them to their own, the introverts tend to sit around wondering about things, imagining things, recalling events from their past, and making plans for the future. The extroverts are more likely to focus on what's happening around them. It's as if extroverts are seeing "what is" while their introverted peers are asking "what if".
"It's not that I'm so smart, it's that I stay with problems longer." - Albert Einstein
Persistence isn't very glamorous. If genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration, then as a culture we tend to lionize the one percent. We love its flash and dazzle. But great power lies in the other ninety-nine percent.
Another important explanation for introverts who love their work comes from being in the state of flow. Flow is an optimal state in which you feel totally engaged in an activity. In a state of flow, you're neither bored nor anxious, and you don't question your own adequacy. Hours pass without your noticing. The key to flow is to pursue an activity for its own sake, not for the reward it brings. Flow often occurs in conditions in which people become independent of the social environment to the degree that they no longer respond exclusively in terms of its rewards and punishments. To achieve such autonomy, a person has to learn to provide rewards to herself. If you're an introvert, find your flow using the power of persistence, the tenacity to solve complex problems, and the clear-sightedness to avoid pitfalls that trip others up.
Why is it that people in America and Europe are more extroverted than in Asia? Although national or ethnic typecasting is not encouraged, there are too many aspects of Asian cultural and personality styles that the rest of the world could learn from. One study found that shy and sensitive children were shunned by their peers in Canada, but make sought-after playmates in China, where they are also more likely than other children to be considered for leadership roles. Similarly, Chinese high school students tell researchers that they prefer friends who are "humble", "altruistic", "honest" and "hard-working" while American high school students seek out the "cheerful", "enthusiastic" and "sociable". The contrast is striking. The Americans emphasize sociability and prize those attributes that make for easy, cheerful association. The Chinese emphasize deeper attributes, focusing on moral values and achievements.
Consider, for example, these proverbs from the East:
The wind houls, but the mountains remain still. - Japanese Proverb
Those who know do not speak. Those who speak do not know. - Lao Zi, The Way of Lao Zi
And compare them to proverbs from the West:
Be a craftsman in speech that thou mayest be strong, for the strength of one is the tounge, and speech is mightier than all fighting. - Maxims of Ptahhotep, 2400 B.C.E.
Speech is civilization itself. The word, even the most contradictory word, preserves contact - it is silence which isolates. - Thomas Mann, The Magic Mountain
What lies behind these starkly different attitudes? One answer is due to the widespread reverence for education among the Asians. Another explanation is group identity. Individuals in Asia see themselves as part of a greater whole - whether family, corporation or community - and place tremendous value on harmony within their group. They often subordinate their own desires to the group's interests, accepting their place in its hierarchy. Western culture, by contrast, is organized around the individual. People see themselves as self-contained units. It makes sense, then, that Westerners value boldness and verbal skills, traits that promote individuality, while Asians prize quiet, humility, and sensitivity, which foster group cohesion.
From a Western perspective, it can be hard to see what's so attractive about submitting to the wills of others. But what looks to a Westerner like subordination can seem like basic politeness to many Asians. It's because of such relationship honoring, for example, that social anxiety disorder in Japan takes the form not of excessive worry about embarrassing oneself, as it does in the West, but of embarrassing others. Similarly, Tibetan Buddhist monks find inner peace by meditating quietly on compassion.
Though Eastern relationship-honoring is admirable and beautiful, so is Western respect for individual freedom, self-expression and personal destiny. The point is not that one is superior to the other, but that a profound difference in cultural values has a powerful impact on the personality styles favored by each culture. In the West, people subscribe to the extrovert ideal, while in much of Asia, silence is golden.
Gandhi, according to his autobiography, was a constitutionally shy and quiet man. As a child, he was afraid of everything: thieves, ghost, the dark, and especially other people. He buried himself in books and ran home from school as soon as it was over, for fear of having to talk to anybody. Even as a young man, when he was elected to his first leadership position, he attended every meeting, but was too shy to speak. He had firm opinions, but was too scared to voice them. He wrote his thoughts down, intending to read them aloud at a meeting, but he couldn't even do that. Gandhi learned over time to manage his shyness, but he never really overcame it. But with his shyness came his unique brand of strength as well. He could fully focus on an ultimate goal and refuse to divert energy to unnecessary skirmishes along the way. Restraint, Gandhi believed, was one of his greatest assets. And it was born of his shyness.
I have naturally formed the habit of restraining my thoughts. A thoughtless word hardly ever escaped my tounge or pen. Experience has taught me that silence is part of the spiritual discipline of a votary of truth. We find so many people impatient to talk. All this talking can hardly be said to be of any benefit to the world. It is so much waste of time. My shyness has been in reality my shield and buckler. It has allowed me to grow. It has helped my in my discernment of truth. - Gandhi
We know that there are physiological limits on who we are and how we can act. But should we attempt to manipulate our behavior within the range available to us, or should we simply be true to ourselves? At what point does controlling our behavior become futile, or exhausting? The answer, Prof. Brian Little says, is simple, and has to do with a new field of psychology, called Free Trait Theory. He believes that fixed traits and free traits coexist. According to Free Trait Theory, we are born and culturally endowed with certain personality traits - introversion, for example - but we can and do act out of character in the service of "core personal projects". According to Little, our lives are dramatically enhanced when we're involved in core personal projects that we consider meaningful, manageable, and not unduly stressful, and that are supported by others.
In other words, introverts are capable of acting like extroverts for the sake of work they consider important, people they love, or anything they value highly. When people are skilled at adopting free traits, it can be hard to believe that they're acting out of character. Free Trait Theory applies in many different contexts, but it's especially relevant for introverts living under the extrovert ideal. Many people, especially in leadership roles, engage in a certain level of pretend-extroversion.
But how many of us are really capable of acting out of character (putting aside the question of whether we want to)? It seems that most of us know how to fake it to some extent. Still there's a limit to how much we can control our self-presentation. This is partly because of a phenomenon called behavioral leakage, in which our true selves seep out via unconscious body language: a subtle look away at a moment when an extrovert would have made eye contact, or a skillful turn of the conversation by a lecturer that places the burden of talking on the audience when an extroverted speaker would have held the floor a little longer.
It turns out that introverts who were especially good at acting like extroverts tended to score high for a trait that psychologists called "self-monitoring". Self monitors are highly skilled at modifying their behavior to the social demands of a situation. They look for cues to tell them how to act. Indeed, the highest self-monitors not only tend to be good at producing a desired effect and emotion in a given social situation - they also experience less stress while doing so. In contrast, low self-monitors base their behavior on their own internal compass. They have a smaller repertoire of social behaviors and masks at their disposal. They're less sensitive to situational cues, like how many anecdotes you're expected to share at a dinner party, and are less interested in role-playing, even when they know what the cues are. To high self-monitors, low self-monitors can seem rigid and socially awkward. To low self-monitors, high self-monitors can come across as conformist and deceptive.
So if you can fake it, if you master the acting skills, the attention to social nuance, and the willingness to submit to social norms that self-monitoring requires, should you? The answer is that a Free Trait strategy can be effective when used judiciously, but disastrous if overdone.
Also, it's not always easy, it turns out, to identify your core personal projects. And it can be especially tough for introverts, who have spent so much of their lives conforming to extroverted norms that by the time they choose a career, or a calling, it feels perfectly normal to ignore their own preferences. There are three key steps to find your own core personal projects. First, think back to what you loved to do when you were a child. How did you answer the question of what you wanted to be when you grew up? The specific answer you gave may have been off the mark, but the underlying impulse was not. Second, pay attention to the work you gravitate to. Finally, pay attention to what you envy. Jealousy is an ugly emotion, but it tells you the truth. You mostly envy those who have what you desire.
But even if you're stretching yourself in the service of a core personal project, you don't want to act out of character too much, or for too long. The best way to act out of character is to stay as true to yourself as you possibly can - starting by creating as many "restorative niches" as possible in your life. "Restorative niche" is Prof. Little's term for the place you go when you want to return to your true self. It can be a physical place, like a walk in nature, or a temporal one, like taking quiet breaks between meetings. Extroverts will want to look for restorative niches too, e.g. by meeting new people.
Finding restorative niches isn't always easy. You might want to read quietly by the fire on Saturday nights, while your spouse wishes you'd spend those evenings with her large circle of friends. This is why Prof. Little calls for each of us to enter into "Free Trait Agreement". A Free Trait Agreement acknowledges that we'll each act out of character some of the time - in exchange for being ourselves the rest of the time. It's a Free Trait Agreement when a wife who wants to go out every Saturday night and a husband who wants to relax by the fire work out a schedule: half the time we'll go out, and half the time we'll stay at home. It's often possible to negotiate Free Trait Agreements with friends and lovers, whom you want to please and who love your true, in-character self.
Probably the most common - and damaging - misunderstanding about personality type is that introverts are antisocial and extroverts are pro-social. But neither formulation is correct; introverts and extroverts are differently social. What psychologists call "the need for intimacy" is present in both introverts and extroverts alike. In fact, people who value intimacy highly don't tend to be, as psychologist David Buss puts it, "the loud, outgoing, life-of-the-party extrovert". They are more likely to be someone with a select group of close friends, who prefers "sincere and meaningful conversations over wild parties". The degree of extroversion seems to influence how many friends you have, but not how good a friend you are.
Also, according to various studies, it is found that there seems to be no difference between introverts and extroverts in their ability to read social cues. But these studies measured how well introverts observe social dynamics, not how well they participated in them. Participation places a different set of demands on the brain than observing does. It requires a kind of mental multitasking: the ability to process a lot of short-term information at once without becoming distracted or overly stressed. This is just the sort of brain functioning that extroverts tend to be well suited for. In other words, extroverts are sociable because their brains are good at handling competing demands on their attention. In contrast, introverts often feel repelled by social events that force them to attend to many people at once. So when introverts assume the observer role, as when they write novels, or contemplate unified field theory - or fall quiet at dinner parties - they're not demonstrating a failure of will or a lack of energy. They're simply doing what they're constitutionally suited for.
It can be hard for extroverts to understand how badly introverts need to recharge at the end of a busy day. We all empathize with a sleep-deprived mate who comes home from work too tired to talk, but it's harder to grasp that social overstimulation can be just as exhausting. On the other hand, it's also hard for introverts to understand just how harmful their silence can be. It can also be hard for introverts and extroverts to understand each other's ways of resolving differences. Studies suggest that the former tend to be conflict avoiders, while the latter are "confrontive copers", at ease with an up-front, even argumentative style of disagreement.
An experiment was conducted in University of California, Santa Cruz where introverts and extroverts were randomly paired to talk to either with a partner of their own type or with their disproportionate type. The process revealed that introvert pairs tended to focus on one or two serious subjects of conversation, while the extrovert pairs chose lighter-hearted and wider-ranging topics. Often the introverts discussed problems or conflicts and tended to adopt the role of advisor, taking turns counseling each other on the problem at hand. The extroverts, by contrast, were more likely to offer casual information about themselves that established commonality with the other person. But the most interesting part of the experiment was how much the two types appreciated each other. Introverts talking to extroverts chose cheerier topics, reported making conversations more easy as their partner did most of the talking, and described conversing with extroverts as a "breath of fresh air". In contrast, the extroverts felt that they could relax more with introvert partners and were freer to confide their problems. They didn't feel the pressure to be falsely upbeat. Introverts and extroverts sometimes feel mutually put off, but this experiment shows how much each has to offer the other.
This shows two crucial pieces of information: first, the introverts' distaste for conversational multitasking is real and explicable; and second, when introverts are able to experience conversations in their own way, they make deep and enjoyable connections with others.
For extroverted parents with introverted children, they need to take a step back from their own preferences and see what the world looks like to their quiet children, and as for introverted parents with introverted children, advice from a parent, who appreciates how a child feels, is inherently validating. One of the best things you can do for an introverted child is to work with him on his reaction to novelty. Note that introverts react not only to new people, but also to new places and events. So don't mistake your child's caution in new situations for an inability to relate to others. He's reconciling from novelty or overstimulation, not from human contact. As we saw, introverts are just as likely as the next kid to seek others' company, though often in smaller doses.
The key is to expose your child gradually to new situations and people - taking care to respect his limits, even when they seem extreme. This produces more-confident kids than either overprotection or pushing too hard. The same also goes for new situations and places. Slowly your child will see that it's worth punching through her wall of discomfort to get to the fun on the other side. She'll learn how to do the punching by herself. If you're consistent in helping your child learn to regulate his or her emotions and behaviors in soothing and supporting ways, something rather magical will begin to happen: in time, you might watch your daughter seem to be silently reassuring herself.
If you want your child to learn these skills, don't let her hear you call her "shy": she'll believe the label and experience her nervousness as a fixed trait rather than an emotion she can control. She also knows fully well that "shy" is a negative word in our society. Above all do not shame her for her shyness.
The purpose of school should be to prepare kids for the rest of their lives, but too often what kids need to be prepared for is surviving the school day itself.
Many schools are designed for extroverts. We tend to forget that there's nothing sacrosanct about learning in large group classrooms, and that we organize students this way not because it's the best way to learn but because it's cost-efficient and designed to reflect modern work environments. If a child prefers to learn autonomously and socialize one-on-one, there's nothing wrong with her; she just happens not to fit the prevailing model. The school environment can be highly unnatural, especially from the perspective of an introverted child who loves to work intensely on projects he cares about, and hang out with one or two friends at a time. Why do we accept this one-size-fits-all situation as a given when we know perfectly well that adults don't organize themselves this way?
We often marvel at how introverted, geeky kids blossom into secure and happy adults. We liken it to a metamorphosis. However, maybe it's not the children who change, but their environments. As adults, they get to select the careers, spouses, and social circles that suit them.
So what kind of schools would be best for introverts of the world? First some thoughts for teachers:
- Don't think of introversion as something that needs to be cured. If an introverted child needs help with social skills, teach her or recommend training outside class, just as you'd do for a student who needs extra attention in math or reading. But celebrate these kids for who they are.
- Studies show that one third to one half of us are introverts. This means that you have more introverted kids in your class than you think. Even at a young age, some introverts become adept at acting like extroverts, making it tough to spot them. Balance teaching methods to serve all the kids in your class. Extroverts tend to like movement, stimulation, collaborative work. Introverts prefer lectures, downtime and independent projects. Mix it up fairly.
- Introverts often have one or two deep interests that are not necessarily shared by their peers. Sometimes they're made to feel freaky for the force of these passions, when in fact studies show that this sort of intensity is a prerequisite to talent development. Praise these kids for their interests, encourage them, and help them find like-minded friends, if not in the classroom, then outside it.
- Some collaborative work is fine for introverts, even beneficial. But it would take place in small groups and have to be carefully structured so that each child knows her role. Introverted kids benefit especially from well-managed small-group work because they are usually comfortable talking with one or two of their classmates, but would never think of raising a hand and addressing the whole class.
- In many fields, it's impossible to gain mastery without knowing how to work on one's own. Have your extroverted students take a page from their introverted peers' playbook. Teach all kids to work independently.
- Don't seat quiet kids in "high-interaction" areas of the classroom. They won't talk more in those areas; they'll feel more threatened and will have trouble concentrating. Make it easy for introverted kids to participate in class, but don't insist. Forcing highly apprehensive young people to perform orally is harmful. It will increase apprehension and reduce self-esteem.
- If your school has a selective admissions policy, think twice before basing your admissions decisions on children's performance in a playgroup setting. Many introverted kids clam up in groups of strangers, and you will not even get a glimpse of what these kids are like once they're relaxed and comfortable.
A school for introverts needs to have the following characteristics:
- prize independent interests and emphasize autonomy
- conduct group activities in moderation and in small, carefully managed groups
- value kindness, caring, empathy, good citizenship
- insist on orderly classrooms and hallways
- organized into smaller, quieter classrooms
- teachers who seem to understand the shy/serious/introverted/sensitive temperament
- strongly enforce anti-bullying program
- emphasize a tolerant, down-to-earth culture
Finally, try not to worry if all signs suggest that your introverted child is not the most popular kid at school. It's critically important for his emotional and social development that he have one or two solid friendships, but being popular isn't necessary. Many introverted kids grow up to have excellent social skills, although they tend to join groups in their own way - waiting a while before they plunge in, or participating only for short periods. That's okay. Your child needs to acquire social skills and make friends, not turn into the most gregarious student in school. This doesn't mean that popularity isn't a lot of fun. You'll probably wish it for him, just as you might wish he have good looks, a quick wit, or athletic talent. But make sure you're not imposing your own longings, and remember that there are many paths to a satisfying life.
Many of those paths will be found in passions outside the classroom. While extroverts are more likely to skate from one hobby or activity to another, introverts often stick with their enthusiasms. This gives them a major advantage as they grow, because true self-esteem comes from competence, not the other way round. Researchers have found that intense engagement and commitment to an activity is a proven route to happiness and well-being. Well-developed talents and interests can be a great source of confidence for your child, no matter how different he might feel from his peers. But let your child take the lead picking the activities he likes best. He may not like any team sports, and that's okay. If his passion seems too solitary for your taste, remember that even solo activities like painting, engineering or creative writing can lead to communities of fellow enthusiasts. Unleashing a passion can transform a life, not just for the space of time that your child's in an elementary or middle or high school, but way beyond.
The secret to life is to put yourself in the right lighting. For some it's a Broadway spotlight; for others, a lamp-lit desk. Use your natural powers - of persistence, concentration, insight, and sensitivity to do work you love and work that matters. Solve problems, make art, think deeply. Figure out what you are meant to contribute to the world and make sure you contribute it. Cherish your nearest and dearest. Work with colleagues you like and respect. And don't worry about socializing with everyone else. Think quality, not quantity. Respect your loved ones for socializing and your own for solitude (or vice versa if you're an extrovert). Spend your free time the way you like, not the way you think you're supposed to. If your children are quiet, help them make peace with new situations and new people, but otherwise let them be themselves. Delight in the originality of their minds. Take pride in the strength of their consciences and the loyalty of their friendships. Don't expect them to follow the gang. Encourage them to follow their passions instead. If you're a teacher, don't forget to cultivate the shy, the gentle, the autonomous, the ones with single-minded enthusiasms for chemistry sets or parrot taxonomy or nineteenth century art. They are the artists, engineers and thinkers of tomorrow. If you're a manager, make the most of introverts' strengths - these are the people who can help you think deeply, strategize, solve complex problems, and spot canaries in your coal mine. Don't expect them to get jazzed up about open office plans, lunchtime birthday parties or team-building retreats. Also remember the dangers of groupthink. If it's creativity you're after, ask your employees to solve problems alone before sharing their ideas. If you want the wisdom of the crowd, gather it electronically, or in writing, and make sure people can't see each other's ideas until everyone's had a chance to contribute. Face-to-face contact is important because it builds trust, but group dynamics contain unavoidable impediments to creative thinking. Arrange for people to interact one-on-one and in small, causal groups. If you have a proactive workforce, remember that they may perform better under an introverted leader than under an extroverted or charismatic one. Whoever you are, bear in mind that appearance is not reality. Some people act like extroverts, but the efforts cost them in energy, authenticity and even physical health. Others seem aloof or self-contained, but their inner landscapes are rich and full of drama. We know from myths and fairy tales that there are many different kinds of powers in this world. One child is given a light saber, another a wizard's education. The trick is not to amass all the different kinds of available power, but to use well the kind you've been granted. Introverts are offered keys to private gardens full of riches. To possess such a key is to tumble like Alice down her rabbit hole. She didn't choose to go to Wonderland - but she made of it an adventure that was fresh and fantastic and very much of her own. Lewis Carroll was an introvert, too. Without him there would be no Alice in Wonderland. And by now this shouldn't surprise us.
Again, all credit for this book summary goes to Susan Cain for providing us with this wonderful book. Thank you.