Introverts Can Be Leaders Too

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been at the receiving end of comments about the apparent ‘flaw’ in my character. 

I remember for years any school report or feedback would state that I should “be more confident” or “be more assertive”, as if that small piece of advice could transform my whole personality type. 

I’ve often been mis-judged as being quiet or shy, my naturally reserved and thoughtful nature interpreted as standoffish. On my graduate scheme I received feedback that I was “aloof” and I was always conscious of coming across as unsociable, not acknowledging the reality that this more reflected the discomfort I felt in my environment rather than a problem with my attitude. I always feel like I need to appear more extroverted, to make people more comfortable with my introversion in social or professional settings, and to make sure they don’t interpret me as still lacking in confidence or self-esteem.

 

That’s because we live in a world that values extroversion. The loudest person in the room is seen as the most confident one, the most fun one, the most popular one. In the professional world this is especially true; we look to extroverts as ‘natural leaders’- the loudest and most charismatic individuals are considered to have the best ideas simply because they voice them more readily, and we assume that the quieter members in the group have nothing worthwhile to add. We develop ways of working and communication strategies that favour extroversion; Zoom meetings where you’re expected to blurt out your thoughts on the spot to a virtual room of a hundred people you’ve never met, and conferences where the only way to get your question answered is to put your hand up and shout in the direction of the stage. Outside of work, the idea of ‘having a good time’ is reserved for social events, parties and outings; you’re a social outlier if you actually enjoy quiet weekends by yourself, reading a book or taking a solo trip. God forbid you actually like spending time alone.

I hate that introversion is seen as a negative. It’s somehow always looked upon with this sorrow, a certain pity that it’s a worse way to be. I hate even more the fact that loudness seems to equate to confidence, an idea which we all must now realise is completely untrue. Confidence isn’t walking into a room and being the loudest person or wanting to be the centre of attention; it’s walking into a room and not caring what people think of you at all, knowing you’ll be just fine either way.

There’s huge misconception of what an introvert is. It’s not always the image of a timid and nervous person sitting in the corner, afraid to speak to anyone. It’s not necessarily a person who is withdrawn or unsociable, anxious or lacking in self-worth. It’s not someone who is boring and doesn’t know how to have fun. Introverts don’t lack people skills nor are we poor communicators; we simply have a personality type that is characterised by gaining energy from time alone, or in quiet and calm settings where we can be fully comfortable. Contrastingly, extroverts gain energy from spending time with other people and often prefer larger, louder settings. Of course, these personality types exist along a spectrum and no-one is 100% introvert or extrovert 100% of the time.

 

I don’t think anyone would describe me as some demure young woman, someone who holds back or is afraid to speak up. But as a child I was painfully shy for a period of time and remember the little challenges my Mum would set for me to push me out of my comfort zone – if it meant I had to speak to a stranger I’d rather go without, so she’d dare me to “go and ask where the bathroom is” or “go and ask if they have it in your size”, refusing to simply do it for me because it was easier. That seems way off now, but it’s really only a few years ago that I would miss dinner or stay in my room eating a takeaway alone rather than going down to the communal dining hall and eating with strangers in my first year of university. Going to university was a huge step out of my comfort zone and I remember how much I would have to psych myself up to go and try out a new club or society, telling myself I just had to put myself out there. I struggled with the ‘knowing lots of people but not very well’ thing and yearned for close connections, just trying to sus out the people I might be able to fully be myself around. 

Nowadays, I’m quite different. I barely recognise that girl when I travel on my own, strike up conversation with a stranger at a networking event or volunteer to speak at a conference. My close friends and family would never describe me as shy or quiet; however, I have never related more to those memes about your social battery draining and needing to get home quick to recharge. Spending time in large groups can be draining for me and although I can seem loud and outgoing, I can only be this person for a limited period of time. Getting to know new people can be difficult sometimes; I hate small talk and I want to get straight to the point of knowing what people are really about on a deeper level, whether our values align and understanding how they think about topics that are important to me. I prefer substantial interactions and I find it hard to socialise with people once I realise we don’t have much in common. I prefer to stick with those people who I feel completely comfortable and secure with and I gravitate towards strong bonds with individuals, favouring 1:1 connections. I value quality over quantity with friendships and I take my relationships with my close circle seriously. I’m quite a private person and I struggle to share details of my life with people I don’t really know or don’t yet feel safe with. I enjoy spending time on my own - and no, I don’t often get lonely or bored. My natural state is to be quite quiet and often people think that means there is something wrong – there isn’t. I often concentrate best in quiet and can find noise distracting. Sometimes I prefer working independently and can be most productive sitting in the office with my noise-cancelling headphones in; other times I might be the middle of whole team conversations, fully engaging in collaborative work and loving it. I can stand up and speak confidently to a room full of people, but only if I’m fully prepared. Being put on the spot to speak within a large group causes me anxiety and I feel that I cannot communicate my thoughts well which is frustrating. I feel that I express myself better through writing as opposed to talking and prefer to take the time to think my ideas through before sharing them. I like to reflect on decisions and situations deeply (unfortunately, often to the point of overthinking). I am very self-aware, thoughtful of the feelings of others and deeply empathetic.

Introverts are often passed over for leadership positions, and a huge majority of leaders are considered extroverts. Introverts challenge our traditional perception of leaders, but I think that’s largely to do with our misunderstanding of them. And maybe our lack of understanding of what actually makes a good leader.

Leadership is concerned with the ability to drive change and influence others towards a common goal. Being thought-led rather than action-led is surely a benefit to leaders, permitting well thought-out actions and behaviours, rather than rash decisions. Being conscientious, exhibiting attention to detail, organisation and planning skills and preferring to take their time are also surely valuable. Introverts find strengths in their ability to listen; in a healthcare setting the impact of this skill is obvious, especially when paired with common introvert traits of empathy and compassion. Introverts are perhaps more attentive and able to read emotional cues, they can build strong relationships and support their team well, placing importance on individual needs. Prioritisation of time to recharge can also be beneficial in promoting work-life balance and preventing burnout. Introverts are more likely to focus on inclusive behaviours, demonstrating an awareness of what it feels like to be an outsider. It has been said that, in a dynamic, unpredictable environment (such as healthcare), introverts are often more effective leaders, as they tend to listen more carefully and show greater receptivity to suggestions.

As well as understanding introversion, particularly in the context of leadership, we need to acknowledge the ways in which workplaces can become restrictive to those with this personality and commit to breaking down these barriers. Feeling the odd one out exacerbates my introversion, and so workplaces often create a cycle where difference is zoomed in on over time. A dislike of small talk or a hesitance to share details about your private life as an introvert is exacerbated when you also realise that this may highlight your otherness or lead to judgement or stereotyping. Part of being inclusive means recognising that all of us are different, not presuming everyone will behave in a single ‘best’ way or suit the same approaches, and not placing the same expectations on everyone’s abilities or ways of being. Yes, we might need to make a conscious effort to ensure the quieter members of the group are heard, but ultimately that will benefit everyone. When we understand and appreciate people on a personal level, we see their unique strengths and that allows us to all work better together. 

I've realised now that being an introvert actually comes with a whole host of unique strengths that make me a great leader, when given the chance. My leadership presence centres integrity, hard work and showing up as my whole self, even the vulnerable parts, and I believe that this is the only way trust, genuine connection and engagement can be built. I am not shy. My introversion is not a negative, in fact it comes with focus, organisation, conscientiousness and passion which are most certainly positives. I will no longer make self-negating choices to fit the general bias for extroversion, but focus on the many benefits of my personality type and everything I have to offer.