MORE than 200 years ago, the Scottish writer James Boswell was introduced to his hero, the polymath Samuel Johnson. Starstruck, Boswell made this infamous apology: “Mr Johnson, I do indeed come from Scotland, but I cannot help it.”

Johnson’s response was more perceptive: “That, sir, I find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot help.”

Johnson was, perhaps, one of the first to diagnose what has since become called the “Scottish Cringe”, a strange condition which seemingly makes some Scots recoil at anything which is recognisably Scottish.

The Cringe is certainly not so widespread an ailment as it was in Boswell’s day when the name “North Britain” was gaining ground on “Scotland”. It is not even so prevalent as it was in the 1990s when, as students, we all received a leaflet from Aberdeen University’s careers office advising us on how to write a job application. This warned us “on no account” to describe our nationality to potential employers as “Scottish”.

Yet, the Cringe does still break out from time to time. There are some people in Scotland, it seems, who still have nothing to fear but hope itself. Culturally, that means, for instance, that some people (a declining number) still feel uncomfortable about the idea of young people in Scotland learning about Scotland in school.

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At one time, such opposition was based simply on an assumption that nothing much of merit had ever happened here to learn about. These days, this strange position, when it is voiced, is usually also tinged with certain political anxieties.

I remember the incandescent reaction in several quarters of the Holyrood chamber, a few years ago, when I proposed (successfully) that people sitting their Higher English exam should first have learned something about at least one Scottish writer.

More generally, there has, in the past, often been much hand-wringing about an assumed lack of self-confidence among Scots at an individual level.

People have suggested, for instance, that young Scots might be less likely than others to speak up in university tutorials – a claim probably once based in fact, but less reliably verifiable today.

I seem to remember a working group once being set up by Scotland’s then Labour-LibDem government to speculate about such questions. It overlooked the elephant in the room. I claim no psychological insight but, in a country where generations of politicians and others have rubbished the idea that Scots might have any ability to govern themselves, we should not be overly surprised if there is some knock-on effect on individuals’ views of themselves.

Things are changing. People in their 30s have grown up with the idea that Scotland is quite capable of having a parliamentary democracy of her own.

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So, what lessons does all this history give us about how we build the confidence needed to get us from here to independence? What do we need to do?

There is no magic answer to that. Probably the best response is to say that we need everyone in Scotland – particularly those who have yet to reach a view about independence – to feel increasingly confident about Scotland.

Nation-building means nurturing all the positive things that go on in Scotland, and reminding the unpersuaded that, with the powers to act, we can do much more – governing well in difficult times.

It also means constantly and respectfully explaining what independence means to those who don’t know. If that sounds unglamorous, it may well be. Being in the SNP is to participate in a team sport rather than an individual one. Making a case to undecided voters will often involve speaking in a voice other than the one used to address a conference hall. It means toils obscure on the doorstep, in Parliament and in our own communities.

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Nation-building also means continuing to celebrate – and defend – all the things that make Scotland cheerfully distinctive, and build up people’s belief in what Scotland is and does.

The idea that any country might be superior to anyone else is, self-evidently, both ridiculous and dangerous. So too, I would merely add, are claims of inferiority. Thankfully, the Scottish Cringe is in long-term decline. Not many people agonise the way Boswell did, although there are still examples out there.

Scotland is a visibly more self-confident place than it was. If we build on that, then Scotland’s growing democratic argument becomes unstoppable.