It is a truism that women are attracted to confident men. Well I, for one, have always been attracted to confident women. My life partner of twelve years is a successful entrepreneur who cofounded her own business sixteen years ago. As Margaret Wente writes in this Saturday's Globe and Mail, however, women tend to be less confident than men. And despite the gains of feminism, popular culture still by and large likes its damsels to be in distress, awaiting rescue from their dashing male heroes.
One solution to this problem is to produce more fiction that features confident women generally kicking butt, like the characters in Anne Fortier's new novel, The Lost Sisterhood. Set partly in modern times and partly in a well-researched ancient Mediterranean world plausibly roamed by Amazon warriors, the female protagonists of the story are not above questioning themselves and experiencing self-doubt. This is important, because overconfidence is just as much of an error as lack of confidence. But crucially, when these women are called upon to make choices in the face of uncertainty, they overcome fear and trepidation to take decisive action—plenty of which involves dispatching foes in a style worthy of uber-confident female protagonist Buffy Summers of vampire slaying fame.
While few of us, male or female, need to be able to throw axes or stakes with deadly force and precision, it is not unimportant that these characters are physically fit. I know that I personally feel more powerful and capable of directing my life after a good workout, and I think that's a pretty universal reaction. We feel more efficacious, mentally and psychologically, when we keep our bodies in good working order.
And this may offer a partial explanation of the gender confidence gap, as men tend to be more involved than women in sports and fitness. More than the much-ballyhooed differences between male and female brains, which Wente uncritically repeats, men's greater confidence may be largely due to the feelings of heightened physical control they get from strengthening their bodies and learning how to manipulate the world of objects and natural laws.
The takeaway: To raise confident daughters, encourage them to play tennis, join the basketball team, or take part in whatever other physical activity that might appeal to them. And expose them to fiction like The Lost Sisterhood to show them some examples of women with the confidence to take the Minotaur by the horns and take charge of their own lives.
While few of us, male or female, need to be able to throw axes or stakes with deadly force and precision, it is not unimportant that these characters are physically fit. I know that I personally feel more powerful and capable of directing my life after a good workout, and I think that's a pretty universal reaction. We feel more efficacious, mentally and psychologically, when we keep our bodies in good working order.
And this may offer a partial explanation of the gender confidence gap, as men tend to be more involved than women in sports and fitness. More than the much-ballyhooed differences between male and female brains, which Wente uncritically repeats, men's greater confidence may be largely due to the feelings of heightened physical control they get from strengthening their bodies and learning how to manipulate the world of objects and natural laws.
The takeaway: To raise confident daughters, encourage them to play tennis, join the basketball team, or take part in whatever other physical activity that might appeal to them. And expose them to fiction like The Lost Sisterhood to show them some examples of women with the confidence to take the Minotaur by the horns and take charge of their own lives.
