This is the third part of an unplanned four-part series—thank you for continuing to forward these newsletters around, and for filling my inbox and DM’s with feedback. I heard from many doctors and scientists about the over-reach they see in terms of justified expertise, which is the focus of this week’s newsletter. I’m going to try to thread a lot of needles here, while bushwhacking through a huge topic—and can easily argue all sides. Very curious for your thoughts in the comments. I’m going to start with authority, move to confidence, discuss credentials, and wrap with expertise.

Before we dive in, I've heard that the first two newsletters cameo’d in slack channels at tech companies and news organizations who are now auditing their shows. (And no, I haven’t heard anything from any of the male podcasters.) If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the first installment is about the dearth of female experts and voices on chart-topping shows hosted by men (“Ending the Manel”), and the second is about the perpetuation of scarcity based thinking when it comes to offering others opportunities (“The Perception (and Reality) of Scarcity”). Both are about patriarchy, and also internalized patriarchy. Next week, we’ll dive into both representation and reputation.

My mom sent this text after reading an early draft of the introduction to On Our Best Behavior (one of 18 versions, to be exact). The subtext: Know your place, so nobody feels compelled to put you in it. (Check.) Even if many of these are your ideas, where not already directly referenced in the text, make sure to find people to credit them to. (Check.) Start from a defensive crouch and explain all the things you are not, rather than what you are. (Check.) Then establish how what you are disqualifies you from understanding, or connecting with, anyone who represents what you are not. (Check, check. More on this next week.)

Her advice was perfect, really, because it touched a tender spot in me and put a beam of light on exactly why I wanted to write the book, at that time. Under my own name. The irony was not lost on me that I had already ghostwritten a dozen books. I’ve stepped into the shoes of a young, blonde reality TV star; Latina wrestling twins; a seasoned Black male executive; a high-powered white lesbian; and so many more. Somehow, it was easier to speak through the filter of their lives and voices than to speak from the experience of my own. Who am I to say what I know? How am I qualified, and who decides? I’ve struggled to “authorize” myself, quite literally. I am not alone.

(Interesting, the etymology of authority, authorize, and author has nothing to do with power: It comes from augere (Latin), to “originate, increase, promote.” Per the OED, it’s “a person who invents or causes something.”)