The Danger of Certainty

When I was younger, I would stand in awe of people who knew with absolute certainty what they were talking about. I wanted to be a person who could look someone in the eyes and tell them exactly the way things were and why. I wanted to understand a topic so well that I could confidently educate others on the nuances of a complex issue and correct their misconceptions.

As a kid I believed that I just hadn’t had enough experience yet, and that all the doubts that I had about my beliefs just meant that I needed to learn more, dig into a topic, and really understand it a deeper level. Once I had enough schooling and enough experience I believed, my doubts would go away and I’d be left with the certainty that what I knew was right and have the confidence to stand up for my beliefs in the face of those who disagreed.

I’m considerably older now, have a graduate degree, almost two decades of work experience, a family with two kids, and that day has still never come. When someone questions something I say, my first instinct is one of self-doubt. I wonder if this person knows something that I don’t, if what I think I know is wrong, if I’ve been looking at the whole thing the wrong way the entire time. I have abandoned the hope of ever gaining enough knowledge, of ever truly understanding anything, of attaining certainty, and I am so much better for it.

Instead of a complete mastery of any realm of knowledge, what I’ve gained over the years is an understanding that certainty is not a goal to strive for, but a trap to be avoided. I’ve met many, many certain people in my life, as you probably have as well, and I’ve found that they generally fall into a couple of categories.

Ignorant

Ironically, the people who understand a topic the least seem to be the ones who have a sense that they understand it the best. There’s definitely some Dunning-Kruger effect going on here, but when you really think about it, it makes sense. How often do you learn something only to have several other questions occur to you, and answering any one of them only leads to more questions?

This is the experience of the truly knowledgeable: every question answered only reveals how much more there is to know, and how small your knowledge is. The person who never answered that first question, never saw how many others there were. To them, the world is small and simple, and unworthy of investigation. To know anything is to acknowledge that you know nothing.

Incurious

It is so comforting to learn a truth that is exactly what you hoped it would be. So much so that we humans have a tendency to add extra validity to arguments that we agree with, and ignore or dismiss those that we don’t. It is such a well understood, but treacherous human tendency that it has a name: confirmation bias. Any scientist I have ever spoken to on the topic has told me that confirmation bias is one of the greatest fears of the scientific community, and huge efforts go into avoiding it when conducting research and formulating results.

That’s why scientists, trained and aware of the pernicious effect of confirmation bias, react to arguments that they are personally attracted to with suspicion. This is not how the average person behaves. People will naturally seek out information that reinforces their opinion, and once they have found it they not only stop actively seeking more information, they ignore any other information presented to them. This gives them the comforting belief that they agree with all valid information that they’ve found on the topic, when the reality is that it wasn’t the information that shaped their opinion, but the other way around.

These people have no problem being certain, because everything they’ve allowed themselves to learn on the topic reinforces their point of view. Anyone questioning their position is questioning reality, and should be dismissed or corrected.

The Beauty of Uncertainty

I have come to embrace my uncertainty as a strength instead of a weakness. Being uncertain means that I know enough to know that there’s so much on any topic that I don’t understand. It means that I am open to learning more; to being right instead of just feeling right. Certainty ends the conversation, it ends learning, it ends growth. Certainty is the opposite of everything I actually wanted to achieve when I was a kid.

My uncertainty has been a huge asset in my career and my life. As a software engineer, it allowed me to learn from others who did things differently than I did. As a husband, it allowed me to value and learn from my wife’s experience which is so different from mine. As a father, it allowed me to acknowledge that children have a wisdom of their own, and that we can can learn a lot from them. And now that I’m further along in my career, it has allowed me to surround myself with people smarter than I, who disagree with me, and to get their input before making decisions for the team.

Being a leader isn’t always having the answer or being right. I think that one of the most powerful things a leader can do is acknowledge when they don’t understand, when they don’t know, and to draw on the wisdom of their team to make the best decision. The next time you start to question yourself or a decision you’ve made, don’t feel bad about it. Allow it to happen. It’s probably one of the best practices you can have to get the most out of yourself and your team.

Published by

Cory

An IT professional with a Computer Science undergraduate and an MBA from the Georgia Institute of Technology. Lives in Alpharetta, GA with his wife and kids.