First things first. Vicky, Kat, Sini and Deborah. Thanks for your birthday greetings. As promised, here’s your brief moment of fame. (Of course, since three of you work at The Daily, this seems kind of pointless, but a promise is a promise.)

Whilst arrogance is, in general, not a positive quality, I can’t help but feel that it is, perhaps, a little underrated (or maybe over-condemned).

Self-promotion is (at least in theory) frowned upon amongst the British (and, I suspect, by most Europeans). We prefer understatement, knowing smiles and, most important of all, the adoration of the proletariat.

In America, on the other hand, the vigorous selling of oneself is the stereotypical stereotype. Never mind boisterous, fat, rude, stupid and devoid of irony; it is the towering, loudly-expressed confidence of the Americans that irks Continental sensibilities.

[Since I am frequently misunderstood by boisterous, fat, rude, stupid and un-ironic Americans, let me make it clear at this juncture that I don’t believe that the boisterous, fat, rude, stupid, un-ironic stereotype holds. I’m just noting the widespread belief in said stereotype (boisterous, fat, rude, stupid, un-ironic) amongst many outside this great, great land.]

Now, while blanket condemnation of the acknowledgement of one’s superiority may seem reasonable at first glance, a closer examination reveals that this naive view can be, well, naive.

In particular, the heart of arrogance is honesty. When you declare that you are better than someone, it is not necessarily just for laughs. You are, in fact, fulfilling a sacred duty to the Gods of Truth.

Sure, no one likes a show-off. But, on the other hand, doesn’t that just make the arrogant all the more noble? They sacrifice the good wishes of their fellow man in order to facilitate a world free of false modesty.

So, arrogance is good. Hold that thought. I’ll be coming back to it in a bit. But, first, a brief aside. (This is a transition.)

There’s a well documented phenomenon in academia (by well documented, I mean a stranger once told me of it in a bar) known as the “impostor syndrome.”

Roughly speaking, it is the same as insecurity. Most of us firmly believe we shouldn’t be here. That we’re not good enough. That someone made a terrible mistake. That the truth will come out and everyone will realise we know nothing.

The impostor syndrome is endlessly fascinating. Almost everyone I know both suffers and, at the same time, recognises the symptoms in their peers.

Let me say that again. Everyone believes that they are a fraud and, simultaneously, believes that their friends are all mistaken in believing the same.

This is so fucked-up that I often lie in bed contemplating, in quiet amazement, that it could possibly be true. But it is.

Even as I write this, I’m stressing out about the fact that my current research will soon reveal me to be a fool and getting angry at one of my fellow students for their repeated insistence on telling me that they are ignorant.

Which brings me back to arrogance. Arrogance is the solution. We are all smart. We may have many, many, many faults, but failures of ability, talent or intelligence are not amongst them.

So embrace it. Wallow in your towering intellect (how’s that for a mixed metaphor?). Walk up to random strangers and give them your GRE score. Pick up hot guys with extended quotes from Byron. Pick up hot girls with fractional-dimensional integrals. Accept yourself.

Now, I must dash, I have to go and cry in a corner while contemplating my stupidity.

Please note the phrase “we are all smart” only refers to my fellow graduate students. Email navins@stanford.edu if you’re bored.