I have belatedly discovered the phrase “move in silence”. Apparently, Lil Wayne instructed people to do it in 2011 with the line: “Real Gs move in silence like lasagne,” a lyric that prompted various polemics (is the G in lasagne actually silent?). Even then, a music commentator told Billboard it was “such an old concept”. It hadn’t broken through in the south side of Brussels, where I was living then (despite lasagne, happily, being plentiful).

I was finally alerted to “moving in silence” by an Instagram post. The phrase grabbed me, since I am a cheerleader for silence. My take is: the more people move in silence, the better, especially if they are in coach H of the 8.02 York to London King’s Cross. It’s the “Quieter” coach! Don’t make me stare pointedly at the sign and sigh!

But “move in silence” (not to be confused with quiet quitting, quiet luxury, house hushing or any other “fingers on lips” trends) doesn’t mean literally move in silence. It’s about keeping your goals, projects and achievements quiet. In a TikTok post I came across, it’s summarised pithily as: “You buying a new car? Shut your mouth. You buying a new house? Shut your mouth. You getting promoted? Shut your mouth.” (There is more, but you get the picture.) The motivation seems partly to be humility, but mostly a desire to thwart the haters.

In the blowhard-business and life-advice corners of TikTok, silent movers are oddly keen to talk about their silence. Their focus seems to be emerging from silence with a triumphant, enemy-crushing fait accompli. I went down a rabbit hole of extremely silly content from TK Maxx Machiavellis, full of prowling tigers, chessboards and men with enormous biceps sullenly working out, overlaid with the assurance that “real winners move in silence” and the instruction: “Only speak when it’s time to say checkmate.”

But the Instagram post in question was actually making a counterargument, suggesting that this isn’t great life advice. “I don’t think ‘moving in silence’ is a flex … If your testimony, news or milestones can’t be talked about without guilt or folks feeling incompetent … you’re in the wrong space.”

I am confused. It seems there have been several seismic shifts in attitudes towards bigging yourself up recently that I am struggling to assimilate.

The sincere, unabashed celebration of your achievements feels transgressive to Britons of my vintage, who have irrevocably internalised the notion that no one likes a showoff. In the past few years, though, I have stumbled towards the painful understanding that when you tell people you are rubbish at something, there is a good chance they will believe you. (It’s probably arrogant to assume everyone will draw the inevitable conclusions from your innate brilliance, rather than accept what you tell them self-deprecatingly.)

Meanwhile, it appears that at least a section of the world had decided it’s better not to tell people what you have achieved or plan to achieve. Instinctively, superstitiously, that resonates, too: after all, humanity has felt funny about the evil eye for thousands of years and my British conditioning means I will always believe it’s chicer not to boast.

But now I am swayed by the argument that it’s healthier to be able to talk about your successes, because you have surrounded yourself with secure, supportive people who don’t find that threatening. Help, I agree with everyone – an unprecedented internet problem!

It’s baffling, knowing how to be, especially now that social media has made us all pico-influencers with a notion of an audience to choose to share our news with, or not. So, should I move in silence? Well, I have realised that it doesn’t matter, because – get this – I am not moving. If you have no achievements, big plans or “very exciting” things to talk about, then you don’t have to worry about whether you should. Basically, I am sitting in silence. But if I do it for long enough, I reckon it might even become a flex. Maybe – shhh! – it already is.

• Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist

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