F72 — WHAT WILL PEOPLE THINK?

And why do we care so much?

Four little words.

What will people think?

Remarkable, really, how much influence they can have over our lives.

They can stop us wearing something we love.

Starting a business.

Leaving a relationship.

Changing careers.

Joining a gym.

Speaking up.

Trying something new.

Or admitting that the life we've worked so hard to build isn't quite the life we want anymore.

And here's the particularly ridiculous part.

Sometimes the people whose opinions we're worrying about barely know us.

The woman at the gym.

The parents at the school gates.

The neighbours.

The people at a party.

Someone we haven't spoken to since 1998.

People who probably spend considerably less time thinking about us than we imagine.

Yet somehow, we've appointed them to an imaginary committee responsible for approving our life decisions.

Why do we give people who know so little about us so much influence over how we live?

Why do we care what people think?

Let's begin by acknowledging something important.

Caring about other people's opinions is normal.

Human beings are social creatures.

We depend on relationships, cooperation, acceptance and belonging.

Throughout human history, being part of a group has offered important advantages, including protection, resources and support.

Social rejection can feel genuinely painful.

Research has shown that experiences of exclusion and rejection can affect our emotions, behaviour and sense of belonging.

So our sensitivity to other people's opinions isn't simply vanity or insecurity.

It reflects something fundamental about being human.

We want to belong.

We want to be accepted.

We want to feel valued.

And most of us would prefer not to be publicly humiliated while attempting to operate unfamiliar gym equipment.

Perfectly understandable.

The problem isn't caring what people think. It's allowing that concern to become more important than what we think ourselves.

The imaginary audience

Have you ever made a decision based on what you imagined other people might say?

Perhaps you wanted to wear something colourful.

But thought people might consider it inappropriate for your age.

Perhaps you considered changing careers.

But worried that people would think you'd lost your mind.

Perhaps you wanted to go somewhere alone.

But imagined everyone would assume you had no friends.

Or perhaps you were considering something quite ordinary and found yourself mentally consulting an entire audience of people who hadn't actually been invited to participate.

It's extraordinary how elaborate these imaginary conversations can become.

"They'll think I'm showing off."

"They'll think I'm selfish."

"They'll think I've failed."

"They'll think I'm too old."

"They'll think I'm ridiculous."

But stop for a moment.

How do you know?

Have they actually said these things?

Or have you written the script for them?

Mind reading: A rather unreliable superpower

Psychologists sometimes use the term mind reading to describe a thinking pattern in which we assume we know what other people are thinking without sufficient evidence.

Someone looks at you.

You assume they're judging your appearance.

Someone doesn't reply to a message.

You assume they're annoyed.

Someone seems distracted during a conversation.

You assume you're boring them.

Perhaps they're thinking those things.

But perhaps they're tired.

Distracted.

Worried about something else.

Or wondering whether they remembered to put the bins out.

The point is that we often confuse our interpretation of somebody else's behaviour with a fact.

And when we're feeling insecure, those interpretations can become particularly negative.

A useful question is:

"What do I actually know, and what am I imagining?"

It's a surprisingly effective way to challenge the stories we tell ourselves.

The spotlight effect

Here's some rather reassuring psychology.

Research suggests that we tend to overestimate how much other people notice us.

This is known as the spotlight effect.

In a well-known experiment, psychologists asked university students to wear an embarrassing T-shirt featuring Barry Manilow.

Participants expected considerably more people to notice the T-shirt than actually did.

The explanation is relatively straightforward.

We're at the centre of our own experience.

We notice every awkward moment.

Every mistake.

Every unusual outfit.

Every slightly embarrassing comment.

But other people are usually concentrating on their own lives.

They're wondering how they look.

Whether they've said something foolish.

What they're having for dinner.

Or why they agreed to attend this event in the first place.

While you're worrying about what everybody thinks of you, there's a reasonable chance they're worrying about what everybody thinks of them.

Which is both reassuring and faintly disappointing.

Apparently, we're not quite as fascinating as we imagined.

The fear of embarrassment

Embarrassment is an interesting emotion.

It often arises when we believe we've violated a social expectation or exposed ourselves to unwanted attention.

Perhaps we've said something inappropriate.

Forgotten someone's name.

Tripped in public.

Mispronounced a word.

Or confidently walked into the wrong room.

These experiences can feel disproportionately significant.

We replay them.

Cringe.

Imagine other people discussing them.

And sometimes remember them years later.

Yet how many embarrassing moments involving other people can you remember in detail?

Probably relatively few.

And even when you do remember them, are you still judging the person?

Or do you simply recognise that they're human?

Perhaps we could extend ourselves the same understanding.

Making a fool of yourself occasionally isn't evidence that you're inadequate. It's evidence that you participate in life.

The school-gate committee

There are certain environments where social judgement can feel particularly intense.

The school gates.

The workplace.

The gym.

The village.

Family gatherings.

Social circles where everybody seems to know everybody else's business.

You may feel pressure to have the right house.

The right clothes.

The right career.

The right children.

The right relationship.

And a life that appears to be proceeding according to plan.

Of course, not everyone is judging us.

But sometimes social environments do contain real expectations, gossip or criticism.

The aim isn't to pretend that these things never happen.

It's to ask how much importance we want to give them.

Because there's a difference between recognising that someone may have an opinion and allowing that opinion to dictate your decisions.

Why strangers can have so much power

It's curious that we can sometimes feel more concerned about the opinions of acquaintances than those of people who know us well.

A close friend may understand our circumstances.

They know our values.

They've seen our struggles.

They understand why we've made certain decisions.

But someone who barely knows us may see only the outcome.

A divorce.

A career change.

A new relationship.

A different appearance.

An unconventional choice.

And we worry about what they'll conclude.

Perhaps part of the fear is that we can't explain ourselves to everyone.

We can't control the story they tell.

And we can't ensure they understand.

That's uncomfortable.

But it's also unavoidable.

You cannot manage every person's interpretation of your life.

Nor should you have to.

Social comparison: Are we keeping up?

Other people's opinions become particularly powerful when we use them to measure our own success.

We compare our appearance.

Our careers.

Our finances.

Our relationships.

Our homes.

Our children.

Our achievements.

And sometimes we begin making choices less because they suit us and more because they demonstrate that we're doing well.

Perhaps we buy things we don't particularly need.

Stay in jobs we no longer enjoy.

Avoid admitting difficulties.

Or continue pursuing goals that no longer matter to us.

Because changing direction might look like failure.

But there's an important question worth asking.

Would I still want this if nobody else knew whether I'd achieved it?

That question can reveal how much of our motivation comes from personal values and how much comes from wanting approval.

When other people's opinions really do matter

Now, before we decide that everybody else's opinion is completely irrelevant, let's consider the other side.

Sometimes other people's opinions are valuable.

If someone we trust tells us we've hurt them, that matters.

If a colleague gives constructive feedback about our work, that may be useful.

If a qualified professional raises concerns about our health or safety, we should take that seriously.

If several people who know us well identify a pattern in our behaviour, it may be worth exploring.

We don't become independent thinkers by dismissing everybody else's perspective.

Other people can see things we miss.

They can challenge us.

Support us.

Help us grow.

And occasionally tell us that the outfit we've chosen really doesn't work.

Although that last one should ideally be delivered with some diplomacy.

The important distinction is between considering an opinion and surrendering your judgement to it.

Whose opinions deserve a place at the table?

Imagine that you're making an important life decision.

Perhaps changing careers.

Moving house.

Starting a relationship.

Ending one.

Or pursuing something that feels meaningful to you.

Who would you genuinely want advice from?

Someone who knows you well?

Someone who understands your circumstances?

Someone with relevant experience?

Someone who cares about your wellbeing?

Someone who can challenge you honestly without trying to control you?

These people may deserve a place in the conversation.

But what about the casual acquaintance?

The judgemental neighbour?

The person who always seems to have something negative to say?

The stranger on social media?

Do they deserve the same influence?

Probably not.

Not every opinion deserves an equal vote in your life.

The difference between feedback and judgement

It can help to distinguish between different kinds of opinions.

Constructive feedback is often specific, relevant and intended to help.

"You seemed uncomfortable in that meeting. Is there something you need support with?"

Personal preference reflects somebody else's tastes or priorities.

"I wouldn't choose that career."

Judgement may involve criticism without understanding.

"She's making a terrible mistake."

These are not the same thing.

And they don't need the same response.

You might learn something from constructive feedback.

You might acknowledge somebody's preference without adopting it.

And you might decide that an uninformed judgement doesn't require your attention at all.

Not every comment needs a defence.

Not every criticism needs a response.

And not every opinion requires you to change course.

The exhausting business of being liked

There's another difficulty with trying to please everyone.

People want different things.

One person thinks you're too ambitious.

Another thinks you're not ambitious enough.

One thinks you're too outspoken.

Another thinks you should stand up for yourself.

One thinks you're too focused on your appearance.

Another thinks you've let yourself go.

One thinks you should work harder.

Another thinks you should slow down.

Trying to satisfy all these expectations is impossible.

You could spend your entire life adjusting yourself to suit other people and still disappoint someone.

Perhaps the more useful aim isn't to be universally liked.

It's to behave in ways that reflect your values, treat people with respect and accept that not everyone will approve.

Being a good person and being liked by everyone are not the same thing.

What if they do judge you?

This is an important question.

Because sometimes they will.

Someone might criticise your appearance.

Disagree with your choices.

Misunderstand your intentions.

Gossip.

Or form an opinion based on very little information.

That can hurt.

Particularly when the person matters to us or the judgement has real consequences.

But criticism isn't always evidence that we've done something wrong.

People have different values, expectations and experiences.

Their opinions may tell us something about them as well as about us.

And while we can reflect on criticism, we don't have to accept every judgement as an accurate assessment of who we are.

Sometimes the most useful response is simply:

"That's their opinion."

Not necessarily a fact.

Not necessarily a verdict.

And not necessarily something that requires action.

What might you do if you worried a little less?

Imagine how much mental energy you might recover if you spent less time imagining other people's opinions.

Perhaps you'd wear the clothes you love.

Try a new class.

Speak more honestly.

Change direction.

Ask questions.

Make mistakes.

Set boundaries.

Pursue an ambition.

Or simply stop rehearsing conversations that may never happen.

You wouldn't suddenly become immune to embarrassment.

You'd still care about the people who matter.

And you'd still occasionally wonder whether you've said something foolish.

But perhaps those worries would have less influence over your choices.

The goal isn't to stop caring what anybody thinks. It's to care more selectively.

What does the psychology tell us?

Several areas of psychological research help explain why other people's opinions can feel so important.

The need to belong: Baumeister and Leary proposed that forming and maintaining meaningful interpersonal relationships is a fundamental human motivation.

Sociometer theory: Leary and colleagues suggested that self-esteem may partly function as a psychological indicator of perceived social acceptance or rejection.

The spotlight effect: Research demonstrates that people can overestimate how much others notice their appearance and behaviour.

Social comparison: Festinger's work explored how people evaluate themselves partly through comparison with others.

Social anxiety and self-focused attention: Cognitive models of social anxiety describe how fear of negative evaluation, self-focused attention and negative interpretations can reinforce anxiety in social situations.

Fear of negative evaluation: Research has examined how concern about being judged unfavourably relates to social anxiety and avoidance.

These theories help explain why social judgement can feel powerful, but they don't mean every fear is imagined. Real criticism, exclusion and discrimination can affect people profoundly.

A little coaching reflection

Consider a situation in which concern about other people's opinions affects your choices.

1. Whose opinion am I worried about?

Can I identify the actual person or group?

2. What am I imagining they'll think?

What is the story I'm telling myself?

3. What evidence do I have?

Has anyone expressed this opinion, or am I assuming it?

4. Why does their opinion matter to me?

Am I seeking acceptance, avoiding embarrassment, protecting a relationship or something else?

5. Does this person know enough about my life to make an informed judgement?

Do they understand my circumstances and values?

6. Is there anything useful I could learn from their perspective?

Or am I giving an uninformed opinion too much influence?

7. What would I choose if I weren't worried about being judged?

Would my decision change?

8. What matters more to me: their approval or living according to my values?

And is there a way to respect both without abandoning myself?

Try this: The opinion filter

The next time you find yourself thinking, "What will people think?", pause and consider five questions.

1. Who exactly am I worried about?

Name the person rather than imagining an anonymous crowd.

2. What do I actually know they're thinking?

Separate evidence from assumptions.

3. How well do they know me?

Do they understand the circumstances behind my decision?

4. Is their opinion relevant or useful?

Could it help me make a better choice, or is it simply a preference or judgement?

5. What would I choose if their approval weren't a factor?

Now consider your answer.

Perhaps you'll decide that their opinion genuinely matters.

Perhaps you'll seek advice.

Perhaps you'll have a conversation.

Or perhaps you'll realise that you've been allowing an imaginary audience to influence a decision that belongs to you.

A small experiment

Choose something you've been avoiding because you're worried about what people might think.

Keep it manageable.

Wear something you love.

Ask a question.

Attend a class.

Express a preference.

Go somewhere alone.

Beforehand, write down what you predict will happen.

Afterwards, reflect on what actually happened.

Did anyone react?

Was their reaction what you expected?

Did the feared outcome occur?

And if someone did judge you, were you able to tolerate that discomfort?

The aim isn't to prove that nobody ever judges us.

It's to explore whether the fear of judgement deserves quite so much control over our choices.

For severe or persistent social anxiety, structured support from a qualified mental health professional may be more appropriate than trying to challenge overwhelming fears alone.

A final thought

There's something rather poignant about the amount of life we can spend worrying about what other people think.

We hold ourselves back.

Stay quiet.

Hide parts of our personalities.

Avoid experiences.

Question our choices.

And sometimes shape entire lives around expectations that nobody has actually expressed.

All because we're worried about being judged.

But perhaps the more important question isn't:

"What will people think?"

Perhaps it's:

"What will I think if I spend my life making choices primarily to keep other people happy?"

Because the people we're worrying about may never know what we've sacrificed for their approval.

They may never notice the opportunities we didn't take.

The things we didn't say.

The experiences we avoided.

The ambitions we abandoned.

They'll simply get on with their own lives.

And we'll be left living ours.

So listen to people who know you, care about you and have something useful to offer.

Be open to feedback.

Treat others with kindness.

Take responsibility for your actions.

But remember that you don't need universal approval to live a meaningful life.

Other people's opinions can be information. They don't have to be instructions.

And as for that woman at the gym who you were convinced was judging you?

There's every chance she was simply trying to remember whether she'd done three sets or four.

Sources and further reading

• Baumeister, R. F. & Leary, M. R. (1995). The Need to Belong: Desire for Interpersonal Attachments as a Fundamental Human Motivation. Psychological Bulletin, 117(3), 497–529.

• Leary, M. R., Tambor, E. S., Terdal, S. K. & Downs, D. L. (1995). Self-Esteem as an Interpersonal Monitor: The Sociometer Hypothesis. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 68(3), 518–530.

• Gilovich, T., Medvec, V. H. & Savitsky, K. (2000). The Spotlight Effect in Social Judgment: An Egocentric Bias in Estimates of the Salience of One's Own Actions and Appearance. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 78(2), 211–222.

• Festinger, L. (1954). A Theory of Social Comparison Processes. Human Relations, 7(2), 117–140.

• Watson, D. & Friend, R. (1969). Measurement of Social-Evaluative Anxiety. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 33(4), 448–457.

• Clark, D. M. & Wells, A. (1995). A Cognitive Model of Social Phobia. In Social Phobia: Diagnosis, Assessment, and Treatment. Guilford Press.

• NICE (2013). Social Anxiety Disorder: Recognition, Assessment and Treatment (CG159).www.nice.org.uk/guidance/cg159

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