In an 1807 letter to Cassandra, Jane Austen complains (mildly) about Captain James Edward Foote’s daughter Catherine, who, while visiting the family in Southampton, freely explores “the Treasures of [her] Writing-desk drawer.” Austen jokingly laments, “What is become of all the Shyness in the World?—Moral as well as Natural Diseases disappear in the progress of time, & new ones take their place.—Shyness & the Sweating Sickness have given way to Confidence & Paralytic complaints” (8–9 February 1807). Austen’s witty question is central to understanding her nuanced portrayal of shyness and its intricate relationship with morality and philosophy within her literary world.
A close examination of Austen’s novels reveals that the author consistently makes shyness a weakness that interpersonal connections, encouragement, and support can overcome. Austen’s characters may struggle with natural shyness that impedes relationship building; display conservative or overly cautious behavior in initial encounters; or adopt reserved manners on specific topics, making dialogue difficult. Furthermore, shyness can be a source of social inconvenience or even a social disability for men in her novels, and Austen subtly challenges eighteenth-century societal and gender expectations around the trait. Austen’s women may facilitate shy men’s recovery from social ineptitude, encouraging their participation in social activities or fostering support within their communities. This reverse-gendered shyness underscores the importance of understanding and mutual assistance in overcoming personal and social barriers.
This essay contends that Austen sees potential moral righteousness in shy individuals, and that she distinguishes shyness, a conquerable weakness, from reticence, a personal choice. By casting men as victims of shyness and women as their therapeutic partners, Austen reverses the early-modern gendered associations around shyness. Awareness of this pattern opens a new interpretation of Austen’s novels and contributes to a more comprehensive understanding of late eighteenth-century gender dynamics.
What is shyness?
The nineteenth century marked the beginning of scientific inquiry into shyness. Charles Darwin, in The Expressions of the Emotions in Man and Animals (1872), noted that shyness hinges on people’s awareness of how others perceive them (330). Darwin’s discussion of shyness was rooted in the work of eighteenth-century intellectuals, who centered shyness on sociability and its philosophical and ethical implications. Eighteenth-century descriptions of shyness reflected a more inclusive understanding of behavioral responses such as reserve, reticence, withdrawal, and bashfulness in connection with personality traits such as timidity, modesty, diffidence, and coyness. Shyness, however, was often seen as a disruption of sociability and a breach of reason. Anthony Ashley Cooper, the Earl of Shaftesbury, asserted that shyness hinders genuine sociability (Cooper 43); Samuel Johnson defined shyness as the “[u]nwillingness to be tractable or familiar” (520). Johnson suggested that shyness often stems from youth and the lack of life experience, but he saw some positive consequences: “It may sometimes exclude pleasure, but seldom opens any avenue to sorrow or remorse. It is observed somewhere, that few have repented of having forborne to speak” (Rambler 19). To Johnson, shyness or diffidence “conciliates the proud, and softens the severe, averts envy from excellence, and censure from miscarriage” (19–20). Although shyness in the eighteenth-century context implies deficiency in reason, it nevertheless suggests positive qualities.
The experience and perception of shyness from premodern texts to contemporary studies of psychology are gendered.1 Early-modern gender ideology aligns female shyness with virtue and modesty. The celebration of female shyness underscores the effort to moralize and normalize gender differences. Even amusements such as music and dancing could, in Erasmus Darwin’s words, diminish the youthful timidity—the shyness—that produces female charm (12). The most straightforward encouragement of women’s shyness came from Edmund Burke:
Beauty in distress is much the most affecting beauty. Blushing has little less power; and modesty in general, which is a tacit allowance of imperfection, is itself considered as an amiable quality, and certainly heightens every other that is so. (204)
As Burke saw it, female beauty derives from a weak and delicate mind “and is even enhanced by [women’s] timidity, a quality of mind analogous to it” (219). In general, the works of eighteenth-century authors reflect a patriarchal ideology in considering female shyness.
Such a view reveals the gender norms that idealize shyness for women but discourage it for men. In A Father’s Legacy to His Daughters (1774), John Gregory called “extreme sensibility” an embodiment of female beauty but male weakness (16). Similarly, Lord Chesterfield warned that a shy man cannot prove his merit: “the timid and bashful can never push himself into life, be his merit as great as it will; he will be always kept behind by the forward and the bustling” (Trusler 5). In Chesterfield’s juxtaposition of shyness and timidity, shyness becomes a lack of courage.
Ethical shyness
In Austen’s novels, shyness is a literary motif central to philosophical scrutiny, subtle conversation, and moral high ground. For instance, Edward Ferrars grapples with shyness, a recurring theme in the discussions between the Dashwood sisters. Fanny Price’s innate shyness highlights Austen’s implicit endorsement of this trait. The novels also see the need to correct shyness, which, as in the case of Georgiana Darcy, can make a person seem arrogant. Austen’s characterizations of Jane Fairfax and Captain Benwick explore the blurred boundary between shyness and reserve. Her depictions of these characters emphasize the multifaceted nature of shyness as perceived through different lenses.
Austen distinguishes shyness from other relevant yet distinct categories. In Sense and Sensibility, the narrator maintains that Edward Ferrars is “too diffident to do justice to himself; but when his natural shyness was overcome, his behaviour gave every indication of an open affectionate heart” (15). Marianne Dashwood shares a similar opinion, condemning reticence, a usual sign of shy people: “‘I have been open and sincere where I ought to have been reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful’” (48). Marianne considers reticence or reserve—a learned trait—worse than shyness. Edward believes that he would not be shy, if he could persuade himself that his “‘manners were perfectly easy and graceful.’” “‘But you would still be reserved,’ said Marianne, ‘and that is worse’” (94). Marianne’s and Edward’s words make Austen’s meditation on shyness and reticence evident: one can be reserved from personal choice, but shyness is not voluntary. Edward’s shyness comes from a sense of insecurity: “‘I never wish to offend, but I am so foolishly shy, that I often seem negligent, when I am only kept back by my natural aukwardness. I have frequently thought that I must have been intended by nature to be fond of low company, I am so little at my ease among strangers of gentility!’” (94). Edward’s shyness, however, is complicated by reserve: he cannot disclose his secret engagement.
While Austen does not present shyness as a trait worth celebrating, she writes about the need to overcome shyness and to recognize its potential for developing a moral character. Shyness and its related qualities can help build, if not guarantee, human virtue. In Mansfield Park, Fanny Price first appears as “exceedingly timid and shy, and shrinking from notice” (12). Her behavior immediately contrasts with that of the Bertram girls, who are “too much used to company and praise, to have any thing like natural shyness” (12)—traits that foreshadow their futures. Like Austen, Fanny understands that shyness is not a personal or moral choice. Luckily, Fanny grows up to be a quiet but not shy person, although her reserved manners, her status in the Bertram family, and the inferiority of her own family all send misleading signals that the adult Fanny is shy. Fanny, “shy and uncomfortable” in the presence of Mr. Crawford (303), illustrates the difficulty a reserved individual faces in an awkward situation. When we compare Fanny with the Bertram girls, it is obvious that although qualities related to her shyness are not the only factors affecting Fanny’s moral choices, the heroine’s quieter virtues protect her from making the mistakes that lead to Maria’s and Julia’s fates. Although Mary Crawford believes that shyness is a performance, as demonstrated in the turn from reticence to confidence that occurs when a girl is “out” (49), Fanny’s behavior contradicts that notion. It is reticence, rather than shyness, that can be performed. In Fanny Price, Austen finds a correspondence between natural shyness and moral principles.
Shyness needs correction, however, because it sends mixed and confusing signals. In Pride and Prejudice, shyness explains Georgiana Darcy’s behavior, as Elizabeth realizes. Her shyness arises from youth and the wish to behave properly:
Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil; but attended with all that embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior, the belief of her being proud and reserved. (267)
Shyness deserves careful judgment and, though sometimes misunderstood, is a complex trait that warrants empathy and a deeper understanding.2
How people respond to shyness and reserve can depend on individual perspective. Emma’s eponymous heroine finds Jane Fairfax’s politeness and reserve frustrating (169, 171). Mr. Knightley, however, defends Jane, explaining that part of her “‘reserve . . . has its foundation in diffidence,’” and that “‘[w]hat arises from discretion must be honoured’” (171). It is later clear that Jane Fairfax keeps her distance because she must hide her secret engagement—a reason that is not very honorable, but that explains her discretion. Mr. Knightley’s later analysis qualifies his initial judgment: “‘her temper . . . wants openness. She is reserved, more reserved, I think, than she used to be’” (289). Mrs. Elton celebrates Jane’s reserve as a sign of timidity: “‘I am a great advocate for timidity—and I am sure one does not often meet with it.—But in those who are at all inferior, it is extremely prepossessing’” (283). Mrs. Elton follows the patriarchal celebration of female timidity. As a bride with “too much ease” (270), Mrs. Elton the extrovert does not really advocate timidity—except as a sign that she herself is somehow the superior. Through Jane Fairfax, Austen shows that shyness-related human behaviors send misleading signals. Characters in Emma see reserve, timidity, diffidence, and discretion in Jane, without recognizing what is unique in each quality or what makes her so. In Emma, Austen endeavors to demonstrate that these human traits and responses deserve objective judgment, and that one should not confuse shyness with these relevant yet distinct ideas. In general, Austen rejects generalizations about or stereotypes of people.
Subverting the gender roles
Austen’s portrayal of shyness transcends the gender norms of her time, challenging the eighteenth-century expectations and perceptions that often align shyness with women. Rather than confining shyness to her female characters, Austen sees both sexes as equally susceptible. Captain Benwick in Persuasion, for example, is shy and waiting to be drawn out: “For, though shy, he did not seem reserved; it had rather the appearance of feelings glad to burst their usual restraints” (100). Austen’s female characters frequently exhibit a more substantial capacity to navigate social situations and to assist others, particularly men, in overcoming their shyness. This dynamic highlights the strength and agency of her female characters, subverting traditional gender roles. Austen’s female characters reverse the gendered attitude toward shyness by approaching male shyness with understanding and empathy. They help these shy men practice social skills, confront their fears, and support them to overcome their shyness.3 Elinor makes Edward value his own positive qualities, and Anne starts Benwick on his path toward marriage. Elizabeth helps Mr. Darcy realize the importance of altruism and mutual help. The author’s portrayal of shyness becomes a subtle critique of gendered expectations, advocating for a more egalitarian understanding of this human trait.
In Sense and Sensibility, Elinor defends and justifies Edward’s behavior, seeing beyond his shyness and recognizing the virtues it conceals. Early in the novel, she acknowledges that the “‘excellence of his understanding and his principles can be concealed only by that shyness which too often keeps him silent’” (20). Instead of viewing Edward’s shyness as an essential flaw, Elinor appreciates it as part of his character and offers emotional support. Like Elinor, Mrs. Dashwood perceives Edward’s quietness not as a sign of indifference but as a reflection of his deep feelings and affectionate nature. Mrs. Dashwood
took pains to get acquainted with him. Her manners were attaching and soon banished his reserve. . . . [E]ven that quietness of manner which militated against all her established ideas of what a young man’s address ought to be, was no longer uninteresting when she knew his heart to be warm and his temper affectionate. (16–17)
Edward’s journey in the novel involves learning to value his character more than his sense of self and his social role, a process facilitated by the Dashwoods. “‘Shyness is only the effect of a sense of inferiority in some way or other,’” Edward acknowledges. “‘If I could persuade myself that my manners were perfectly easy and graceful, I should not be shy’” (94). By the novel’s end, Edward's shyness has been significantly mitigated, and he realizes that he should have been “‘mixing more with the world’” (362). Edward’s self-analysis manifests not only the recognition that he should correct his shyness but also the realization that reticence is only an escape, not the solution. As the novel teaches, overcoming shyness and reticence requires proper guidance, social interaction, and support from others.
Austen’s women—particularly those of profound empathy and emotional intelligence—help men overcome their shyness. Captain Benwick is also shy, but he manifests deep sensitivity and gentleness, and the narrative highlights Anne’s instrumental role in Captain Benwick’s emotional recovery: “He was shy, and disposed to abstraction; but the engaging mildness of her countenance, and gentleness of her manners, soon had their effect” (100). Their discussion about poetry reflects Anne’s wisdom and understanding of the need for emotional equilibrium. Eventually, Captain Benwick and Louisa Musgrove’s engagement marks a significant transformation and consequential progress for this shy man. Anne observes this growth and Louisa’s, noting, “He would gain cheerfulness, and she would learn to be an enthusiast for Scott and Lord Byron” (167). This union corresponds with Austen’s consistent idea that marriage should be about mutual support and shared interests. Anne’s role shows Austen’s emphasis on women as healers and guides for shy men.
Although it needs correction, shyness in Austen’s novels is ethically acceptable, aligning with modesty, reflection, and responsibility. Austen illustrates that shyness is often coupled with moral integrity and self-awareness. Her shy characters are quiet, calm, reflective, discreet—and, most importantly, not cold and insensible. Edward Ferrars and Captain Benwick are shy but friendly. Their shyness is not a serious barrier to moral integrity or intellectual development but only an impediment to sociability. Fanny Price, whose behavior can look like shyness, is the righteous guardian of integrity. In them, Austen approves of appropriate shyness.
Austen deviates from the eighteenth-century gender definitions by presenting women as active agents of change who help their male counterparts overcome shyness. Elinor restores Edmund’s confidence, while Anne helps Captain Benwick recover from his bereavement. Fanny Price, who is reserved but not shy, corrects the moral and social errors of the Bertram family with her quieter virtues. To sum up, shyness in Austen’s novels sustains the balance between self-restraint and self-indulgence and is central to the author’s meditation on morality and gender.
NOTES
1The fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-V) notes that gendered social positions and expectations affect male victims of Social Anxiety Disorder (204). It is possible to trace this observation to eighteenth-century authors’ and intellectuals’ gendered perspective on shyness, disapproving of it in men while celebrating it in women.
2Darcy’s reluctance to mingle with people derives from his indifference to people outside his circle, while Georgiana’s shyness is a sign of inexperience. Their shyness is not a vice, but it is a defect (Ewin 140–43).
3These approaches resonate with modern treatments for Social Anxiety Disorder. Psychotherapies such as cognitive behavioral therapy, exposure therapy, and acceptance and commitment therapy aim to cure shyness and anxiety by encouraging people to talk, meditate, confront situations they fear, and participate in social activities.
