Why being wrong is a superpower
“I already told you! It’s not there!”…was what I screamed at my brother when I couldn’t find something I was searching for online.
I popped a fuse because he dared to tell me that I wasn’t looking hard enough, even after I scraped the internet for an hour searching for it. Then, he took my laptop, typed a few words into Google, and…there it was. The first result was precisely the one that was eluding me.
How could this be? How could I not find this simple link after typing every combination of words I could think of? My university professors would be rolling in their proverbial graves if they saw how I couldn’t execute a simple Google search.
Once I stopped drowning in embarrassment and my brother took his victory lap, I started questioning why I was so confident. What made me so arrogant to think I am unequivocally correct, only to be proven otherwise in seconds?
Like every rebellious adolescent, I loathed being wrong about anything. I constantly argued with my friends, teachers, parents, and, of course, my brother.
It reached a breaking point during the 2016 presidential election. Every person unfortunate enough to remember that year (and the ensuing four) knows just how extreme American polarization had become. While that time sparked my political awakening, it also sucked me into the tribal mindset that took hold of the country.
I later discovered that this mindset was one of my most significant flaws. Facts take a backseat to emotions, and logic is as useful as a three-dollar bill. It’s all about cherry-picking the pieces of information that prove your point. The remaining evidence, regardless of how compelling it is, be damned.
Not only is this way of thinking destructive—it’s also idiotic.
Admitting you’re wrong is one of the most challenging things to do because people believe it shows weakness. If, God forbid, someone is wrong about something, they would lose all credibility, and no one would listen to their opinion again. Therefore, they must appear like they’re right at all costs.
I understand this position well because I was there myself not long ago. I was terrified that people would no longer take me seriously if I happened to believe the wrong thing.
It all changed one day when I was watching a political commentator cover a story about supervised injection sites. These are sites where people addicted to drugs would use their drugs under the supervision of trained staff so they can be resuscitated if they overdose (the ethics of those sites are a conversation for another day).
Initially, he was opposed to the idea, stating how this would encourage people to get addicted to drugs. Until he read the following facts:
Out of all the people who went to those sites, not a single person died of an overdose because the staff intervened when necessary.
The sites offered rehabilitation resources and information, which helped funnel some of those people to the road to recovery.
Within a few seconds, the commentator changed his mind and championed those sites.
I was dumbfounded at how quickly and casually he could adopt a new position based on new evidence. Even more surprising, I didn’t think he was weak or looked like a fool for admitting he was wrong. In fact, I respected him even more for doing so.
That’s when I realized that you look sillier when you dig your heels into a disproven position rather than simply admitting that you’re wrong.
Now, let me clarify: I don’t necessarily love being wrong (seriously, who does?). What I love about being wrong is that it tears down my ego whenever I lose an argument and am convinced otherwise. Admit that you’re mistaken enough times, and you are well on your way to being a much more humble person.
That’s what I love about it. It brings me down to earth and reminds me just how little I know about the world and other people. As Socrates once said:
“The more I learn, the less I realize I know.”
Beyond that, it made me more willing to research things after the encounter to see if I was wrong (sometimes I wasn’t, but at least now I know for a fact).
It’s tough to admit when you’re wrong. It’s even tougher, yet more essential, to change your mind when presented with new, compelling evidence for the opposing view. That’s why the scientific method is perhaps the most crucial development humans ever made. Without it, we would still think that cigarettes are good for our health.
If science can change and evolve, why can’t we?
That’s why I am adopting a much more scientific approach. An approach that prioritizes facts and logic first and allows me to construct my argument around them. If I see new and proven information that contradicts what I know, I will change my position to be as well-informed as possible. That is one of the hallmarks of human progression and development, and it’s why we should strive to be wrong.
