Recently I’ve noticed a common theme in books, podcasts, and radio programs—the idea of “humility.” Merriam Webster defines humble as: “not proud or haughty: not arrogant or assertive”, and that seems to characterize these varied bits of wisdom: be more open and flexible, make fewer assumptions, give an idea a second look or a person a second chance, be more comfortable with uncertainty and complexity.
I’ll admit that learning to live in this humble, open way sounds challenging—I naturally prefer certainty and I want to be right—but I’m slowly understanding its importance.
As a young adult I became fascinated with the spiritualist movement and how Victorians like Arthur Conan Doyle—Sherlock Holmes’ creator—were duped by fake mediums. Since then, I’ve been hooked, studying beliefs ranging from mainstream religions to cults to political movements to conspiracy theories. Guess what! We all believe weird things. This matters because it’s very possible that any one of us is wrong at any given time; because our beliefs affect our actions, and because science shows that we can’t browbeat a mind that has harmful beliefs into abandoning them. The approach we take towards thinking and interacting is key.
In the book Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don't Know, Adam Grant urges us to avoid unhelpful mindsets that he names “the preacher, the prosecutor, and the politician”, and recommends instead operating as “the scientist”: in this mindset you are expected to “doubt what you know, be curious about what you don't know, and update your views based on new data.”
Yes, it’s ironic that I’m gung-ho about a book on uncertainty. Indeed, Grant reminds me to be skeptical of a silver bullet, an idea that seems to explain or solve everything. In a recent Guardian article about the hot topic of the day, Rebecca Solnit is wary of artificial intelligence. We may find the inherent messiness of life bothersome, but if we use computers to make everything neat and tidy and frictionless, we will, in her words, “lose something immeasurably valuable. …Life “cannot be boiled down to simple metrics.”
I’m in no way putting myself forward as a model and talking about it publicly is a little scary. From now on, will everyone just think about how wrong I am? Maybe, and if so, that would be a good outcome because I need to be reminded.
In the book Anatomy of a Breakthrough, Adam Alter talks about overcoming “stuckness”—that paralysis I frequently feel because I want to be totally right or correct. Patterns of thought—like perfectionism or fundamentalism—that prioritize ideas over people can lead us away from understanding and without realizing it we become inhumane.
In conclusion, our country is troubled by profound divisiveness and a lack of good interpersonal communication. Our democracy is suffering. Maybe humility is an answer. Stephan Jones, son of Jim Jones, told “The Devil You Know” podcast that the tragedy at Jonestown, Guyana, is an example of dangerous ideas taking precedence, of humility and humanity being lost.
I’ll leave you with the philosophy he’s learned through bitter experience: “Make Love the greatest value of your life and put no idol before it, including your own ego. You do your best to love and treat it as the difficult practice it is. You work hard every day to keep your heart open and you keep listening for answers to life's mysteries big and small.”
Krista Bowers Sharpe is retired from Western Illinois University.
The opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the University or TSPR.
Diverse viewpoints are welcomed and encouraged.