As Cain states, "America had shifted from what the influential cultural historian Warren Susman called a Culture of Character to a Culture of Personality -- and opened up a Pandora's Box of personal anxieties from which we would never quite recover." The American emphasis on charism and self-expression honestly leaves many exhausted. There are those among us who abhor small talk, who actually enjoy observing the party from the corner of the room, who avoid group projects, and who excel in private pursuits. Yet the culture will have none of it. Businessmen who fail to project their ideas with eloquent, vocal confidence are overlooked. Students who choose to remain silent during class discussions worry their teachers. Children who select one or two friends over a score of acquaintances concern their parents with their apparent lack of social skills. Individuals who delve deeply into their unique passions are labeled weird and sent to the fringes of society. America likes talk and openness and activity. I mean... It's all about presentation.
I couldn't resist adding this. |
Good question. For the most part, it seems, we don't do much of anything with them. We certainly don't accommodate them. Extroversion is more or less mandatory in our day and age. Many folks don't realize they are introverted: They've spent their entire lives playing the extrovert game with the rest of us. As a result, we as a culture miss out on the special gifts of introverts. Introverts tend to be focused, independent workers, passionate about one or two things, and genuine in their social interactions, and while these qualities sound lovely on paper, they don't always fit well with the Extrovert Ideal. Moreover, our extroversion obsession creates a lot of tension. Societal pressure to be extroverted can be overwhelming and damaging. Combine this pressure with the slew of misconceptions regarding an introverted temperament and you have a recipe for a zombie apocalypse: a bunch of burnt out, overstimulated introverts who instead of hungering for brains, hunger for peace of self.
In order to really appreciate all of this, you'll just have to read Quiet. Susan Cain resolves a lot of misunderstandings and proposes solutions to common problems introverted individuals (or their parents) face. In my humble opinion, however, the main achievement of Quiet is Cain's inherent understanding of her fellow introverts. Throughout the book, as I sifted through the psychology and anecdotes, I was constantly cross-checking her words with my personal experience. I'm pretty solidly an introvert: I detest small talk, though I love deep one-on-one conversation, I enjoy working independently, I prefer to observe before joining in, and I relish time alone. Yet there were times where I didn't match the introvert prototype. I kept scouring the pages for my doppleganger, a unique combination of homebody and public speaker. I thought that if I found my twin, her story would be followed up by the answer to all my questions and anxieties over my personality. Yet no such look-alike came along. My anxiety continued to build, and then, on page 226, I found the question that I had been asking all along, the question that had pestered me no matter how much data I looked at or how many inspirational stories I read:
Is there something wrong with me?
I'm sure I'm not the only one who has wondered if there was something wrong with my characteristic caution, my reservation to share my feelings, or my distaste for large parties. (Unlike Jordan Baker, I do not think "large parties are so intimate".) The question was answered a few lines later:
Probably the most common -- and damaging -- misunderstanding about personality type is that introverts are antisocial and extroverts are pro-social. But as we've seen, neither formulation is correct; introverts and extroverts are differently social.
Hipsters like me dig 1960's Jordan better. And gosh, I'm in love with 60's Nick Carraway. |
There it was, in black and white, what I had known all along. Printed confirmation that my preference for a few close friends was perfectly valid, and that my need to close the door some nights and watch a movie was normal. I know I'm not alone in this regard, and I'm betting that there is someone out there who is going to read this and know what I'm talking about. This is why I cannot recommend Quiet highly enough. I not only understand myself better for it, but I better understand my friends, my family, and my classmates. Social temperament can't explain entire people -- that would be ridiculous -- but it certainly helps one to understand them. With understanding comes acceptance, and with that acceptance comes a brighter future. "Introverts are offered keys to private gardens full of riches," Cain says. "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 her own."
Basically, read Quiet. It's good. Goodreads link is right here.
* NOTE: There are various connotations of the words "introvert" and "extrovert". Cain takes a broader definition of introversion, and Quiet includes a note on her definition. I'll simply include the introductory sentences: "This book is about introversion as seen from a cultural point of view. Its primary concern is the age-old dichotomy between the 'man of action' and the 'man of contemplation', and how we could improve the world if only there were a greater balance of power between the two types."
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