Editor’s note: Today’s post is by Holly Koppel and Ashutosh Ghildiyal. Holly is a publishing consultant and an active member of the SSP Mental Health Community of Interest (CoIn). Ashutosh is Vice President of Growth & Strategy at Integra. Reviewer credit to Chefs Randy Townsend and Dianndra Roberts.

Impostor syndrome can happen to anyone — and usually, you are not aware you have it until suddenly someone asks you to do something you have never done before.

Back when I, Holly, was starting my career, I was asked to train a team of 15 editors on a new peer review system. My brain went straight to the heart of impostor syndrome: “Who am I to train them? Wouldn’t someone else be better at this?” The truth is, I was asked because, at that time, I was the best person for it, even though my mind kept telling me there was someone else better, someone with more experience in training. That is the heart of impostor syndrome. Even though I felt that there had to be someone better for the job and that I would flub the training, in truth, this was the push I needed to learn what I am good at.

Impostor syndrome is often described as the nagging sense that we’re not good enough, our achievements are accidental, and others will one day discover we are frauds. Beneath this distortion of reality lies something deeper: the fundamental human struggle to live comfortably with uncertainty about ourselves.

There will always be a part of us that is unknown because we are constantly changing, growing, and evolving. The part of ourselves we feel most certain about is often the old, static version of who we were. This version feels safe because it’s familiar, but in truth, it belongs to the past. Staying in this version cannot nourish us in the way that ongoing learning and discovery can. Who we really are emerges at the edge of uncertainty.

Freedom from impostor syndrome won’t come from silencing doubt or stockpiling achievements until we lie that we’re qualified. Instead, freedom comes when we can stand comfortably in the unknown, allowing what is new and uncertain to reveal itself. Freedom means being comfortable with being uncomfortable. To reach this level of freedom, we must have the courage to accept uncertainty, not as a flaw, but as the place where growth, creativity, and authenticity take shape.

Facing Uncertainty in a Changing Industry

Scholarly communication is a field in constant flux. Business models are evolving every day, reshaping workflows, professional roles, and incorporating new technologies. In this ever-shifting environment, uncertainty isn’t a weakness; it’s a fact of professional life and often the starting point for innovation. But uncertainty can also trigger Impostor Syndrome.

When I, Aushutosh,  first began working with institutions on research integrity, I worried endlessly that I wasn’t the right person to be in the room. My mind circled around what I didn’t know rather than what I could contribute. What mattered most wasn’t encyclopedic knowledge, but the willingness to engage with uncertainty and build understanding through inquiry. The fear of the unknown became a doorway into growth.

The Trap of Familiar Patterns

Knowledge is indispensable in scientific and scholarly work, yet relying only on what is already known can stymie growth. Progress happens when knowledge serves as a foundation for building innovation.

In scholarly publishing, this balance is vital. Leaning too heavily on precedent risks reinforcing systems that may no longer meet the needs of researchers or readers, while discarding tradition altogether could undermine the standards and ethics the field depends on. The real opportunity lies in combining the two: respecting established practices while staying open to new approaches.

Publishing is built on precedent: style guides, peer review processes, established policies, and the accumulated authority of the scientific record. These structures are vital, but they can also create a dangerous dependence on the past. Many people resist changing existing policies for fear that they will be challenged and cannot handle the scrutiny, but this is exactly what drives innovation. If we are not willing to take chances and make changes, publishing will stagnate. Impostor syndrome feeds on this dependence on the status quo, convincing us that change will cause havoc with our routines and that if we are the ones pushing for change, we do not belong.

We have both seen this vividly when colleagues prepare for conference presentations. Surrounded by experts, they rehearse endlessly, fearful of being exposed as inadequate. We have both felt the same way, yet audiences rarely remember every technical detail. They remember whether we spoke authentically and whether we offered a genuinely new way of seeing. One of the most valuable lessons I (Holly)  learned in Toastmasters, a global public speaking and leadership development community, was to own what you are saying. Through regular practice, constructive peer feedback, and a supportive environment, Toastmasters helps build confidence in how ideas are expressed. When you speak with confidence, you are more likely to be perceived as knowledgeable and credible.

The Trap of Self-Image and Validation

Much of impostor syndrome stems from the carefully constructed image we carry of ourselves. We want to appear competent, authoritative, and confident, and we fear that any misstep will puncture that fragile façade. This fear is compounded by our search for validation, wanting our ideas to be recognized, approved, and celebrated. Social media has compounded this issue, as we curate our digital personas, allowing only a part of ourselves to be seen by the world.

Here lies the paradox: what is truly original cannot be validated in advance, precisely because it does not yet exist outside of us. Its worth may not be obvious, even to ourselves. Our role is not to guarantee acceptance but to express ourselves honestly and let others decide what to do with our offering.

When we stop diluting our ideas to make them more palatable or acceptable, we free ourselves from the weight of guilt and shame. It also gives us more energy to spend on our ideas, as we are not constantly evaluating this version of ourselves. Speaking genuinely, even from a place of uncertainty, has intrinsic worth.

The Mind’s Magnifying Glass

The human mind has a peculiar way of enlarging fear beyond all proportion. A simple typo in a manuscript or a momentary stumble during a presentation becomes, in our imagination, a career-defining exposure that will forever mark us as frauds.

As professionals who write opinion pieces, we both feel this amplification each time we hit submit. Will this make sense to readers? Will it be accepted for publication? Does it actually matter? A short essay becomes, in my anxious mind, nothing less than a referendum on whether I belong in this field. Recognizing this mental magnification is critical. Without this awareness, impostor syndrome thrives on imagined catastrophes that exist nowhere but in our thoughts.

Introverts and the Hidden Weight

For introverts, impostor syndrome carries an additional and often invisible burden. Speaking up in meetings, presenting at conferences, or leading group discussions already requires considerable effort. Layering self-doubt on top makes the load nearly unbearable.

We have watched talented colleagues hold back from applying for leadership roles or sharing valuable insights, not from any lack of ability but from a paralyzing fear of exposure. Tragically, the very qualities that make introverts thoughtful and reflective contributors are too often overshadowed by silence. Introverts will often watch their colleagues be promoted to leadership positions ahead of them because of this self-doubt.

Left unchecked, impostor syndrome can quietly but devastatingly stall careers. It keeps us from applying for leadership roles that would stretch our capabilities, prevents us from sharing ideas that could advance our organizations, and silences us in the very rooms where important decisions are made. By constantly deferring to others or waiting for some mythical moment of certainty, we unintentionally reinforce the very doubts we carry.

The path forward is not about waiting until we feel completely ready. That moment may never come. Instead, it requires daring to step into challenging roles even while doubt lingers, trusting that real growth comes through doing, not through endless preparation.

Personal Reflections from the Edges of Publishing

Although I (Ashutosh) am not an editor or publisher, I have worked alongside many in these roles: as a vendor, as a collaborator with institutions and researchers, and as an author navigating the publication process. I have witnessed impostor feelings across all these different positions: editors second-guessing their editorial judgments, researchers doubting the significance of their data, and publishers questioning their strategic decisions.

And I have felt these doubts personally, too. Each time I sit down to write, I wonder whether my ideas actually make sense or have any real value. Yet, as Voltaire observed, “Doubt is not a comfortable condition, but certainty is an absurd one.” Perhaps impostor syndrome is not a pathology to eliminate at all costs, but rather an awareness of the discomfort that comes with doubt. And doubt, after all, is often the beginning of wisdom.

In fact, being invited to collaborate on this article, I (Holly) felt quite a bit of impostor syndrome. I have only had a few articles published, as I have had more opportunities for public speaking, but I definitely felt nervous about collaborating and also thrilled at the chance to address an issue I frequently suffer from.

Living in the Presence of Uncertainty

Impostor syndrome exists everywhere in life and, honestly, will never truly go away. The best we can do is be comfortable with the unknown, stop comparing ourselves to others, and stop craving external validation as proof of our worth and success. If we can free ourselves from constant comparisons and the need for validation, we will start to feel more comfortable being our authentic selves. When we don’t know who we really are, we can feel pulled in different directions, and impostor syndrome can take hold, but when we truly know who we are, we are empowered to be creative, to innovate, and to change the world.

True freedom from impostor syndrome isn’t about flawless confidence or impossible perfection. It’s the courage to think clearly in each situation, free from the weight of comparison, rigid self-image, and the suffocating grip of the past. Meeting uncertainty with genuine openness shifts us from prisoners of doubt to participants in discovery.

That courage to be authentic, to think anew, and to stand comfortably in the unknown is the real freedom we’ve been seeking all along.