Confidence eh? When it materialises, it's fantastic. In fact, it's akin to magic

Fri 13 Nov 09

The subject of confidence has been exercising me of late (not that I should complain; after all, it's been the only exercise I've had for a while). Specifically, I've been wondering how much confidence I'd like our two children to have as they grow up.

Of course, I want them to feel secure in themselves, capable of giving new things a go and sure enough of their opinions to speak up. At the very least, I don't want them to suffer the self-doubt and social detachment which has often held me back (I thought about starting a support group for fellow sufferers, but I feared no one would come).

On the other hand, I don't want them to be over-confident to the point of cockiness. Or delusion, come to that. Think of all those contestants who humiliate themselves on TV talent shows because their parents have always told them they're brilliant when in truth they're some way off that.

Talking of talent shows, I find Piers Morgan a problematic figure in this context. Despite having no experience or knowledge of performing, he has no problem with voicing his opinion and giving his advice on Britain's Got Talent. And, even more inexplicably (or 'less explicably'? Damn these doubts…) on America's Got Talent. Do they have any idea who he is?

I can't decide whether to admire his brass neck or deride it. And the same goes for those politicians from privileged backgrounds (*cough*… David Cameron…) who are not inhibited in the least by their lack of personal experience of how most people live.

For the majority, I suspect, confidence is not a permanent and unchanging characteristic; it is fragile, elusive and can vanish as suddenly as it appears. Like a will-o'-the-wisp. Or the flame of a candle. Or, since this is supposed to be a football column, Luke Chadwick.

I certainly found that to be the case in the advertising world. It's described by Joshua Ferris in his brilliant novel 'And Then We Came to the End'; one minute, you believe that you can do anything: "We made you want anything that anyone willing to pay us wanted you to want. We were hired guns of the human soul. We pulled the strings on the people across the land and by god they got to their feet and they danced for us."

The next minute, you're racked with insecurities: "How could we understand our failure as anything but an indictment of us as benighted, disconnected frauds? We were unhip, off-brand. We had no clue how to tap basic human desire."

And confidence can come and go just as suddenly and inexplicably in football. When it disappears and can't be summoned back by will or effort (how often have we heard desperate managers say, "We'll just have to keep working hard on the training ground to turn things around"?), it's horrible.   Part 2 >>