Inventing Courage Without Waiting for Permission
Created at: September 5, 2025
Refuse to wait for permission to be brave; invent your own courage. — Simone de Beauvoir
Existential Freedom as a Daily Invention
This call to “refuse to wait for permission” echoes Simone de Beauvoir’s existential insistence that freedom is not given but assumed. In The Ethics of Ambiguity (1947), she argues that existence precedes essence, which means we become ourselves through chosen projects rather than inherited roles. Courage, then, is not a trait we discover; it is a stance we create by acting under uncertainty. By stepping forward before guarantees arrive, we author our lives and transform fear into meaning. Thus, inventing courage is less about feeling fearless and more about deciding to move while afraid—trusting that action will disclose who we are becoming.
Unmasking the Permission Myth
Yet why do we wait? Social structures often teach us to seek authorization. In The Second Sex (1949), de Beauvoir describes how imposed scripts—what she calls “immanence”—keep individuals in repetitive, approved roles, while “transcendence” names the leap beyond them. Permission can appear humane, but it frequently disguises gatekeeping that preserves the status quo. When we internalize those gates, hesitation begins to look like prudence. Seen this way, refusing to wait is not rudeness; it is a refusal to outsource our freedom. By stepping into transcendence, we accept the risk of initiative and, in doing so, loosen the quiet grip of social permission.
Courage as Practice, Not Temperament
Moving from philosophy to practice, courage functions like a muscle: it strengthens with use. Albert Bandura’s work on self-efficacy (1977) shows that small mastery experiences build the belief that future efforts will succeed. Each modest act—asking a hard question, submitting a draft, entering a room you feel unqualified to enter—revises your self-story from “I can’t” to “I can learn.” Moreover, implementation intentions (Gollwitzer, 1999)—if-then plans such as “If my voice shakes, then I will keep speaking”—convert abstract bravery into doable steps. Through repetition, action precedes confidence, and the invented courage of today becomes tomorrow’s familiar skill.
Stories That Refused the Gatekeeper
History illustrates how courage often begins without sanction. Rosa Parks’s 1955 refusal to surrender her seat—prepared through community organizing—did not wait for official blessing; it created the conditions that made later permissions possible. Likewise, Sophie Scholl and the White Rose distributed anti-Nazi leaflets in 1942–43 despite lethal prohibition, demonstrating moral initiative that authority sought to crush. More recently, Greta Thunberg’s 2018 school strike started as an unsanctioned act that invited others into public conscience. These examples vary in context and risk, but they share a pattern: courage acts first, and institutions catch up—if at all.
Guardrails: Courage Without Harm
However, refusing to wait is not a license for recklessness. De Beauvoir’s ethics insists that to will oneself free is to will others free (The Ethics of Ambiguity, 1947). Courage that tramples other people’s dignity is merely domination in a heroic mask. Thus, the test is twofold: Does the act expand your agency without collapsing theirs, and does it accept responsibility for consequences, including error correction? By pairing bold initiative with care—seeking feedback, naming risks, and adjusting course—we keep bravery oriented toward shared flourishing rather than self-display.
How to Invent Courage Today
Finally, invention begins now. Choose a concrete project that matters more than your comfort—a proposal, a conversation, a prototype—and set a near deadline. Write a one-sentence commitment that starts with “I authorize myself to…,” then craft a simple if-then plan for the first obstacle. Ask one ally to witness your promise and schedule a brief check-in. After acting, record what worked; this becomes a growing ledger of mastery. In this way, you stop waiting for a green light from culture, fear, or perfection. You become, step by step, the person your own courage requires.