Most of us will have a moment in our life when we realize that we were wrong about something. Hopefully, we’ll have many of them. Not because it’s good to be wrong, but because it suggests that you’re mindful of your inability to always be right. Despite our very best efforts, despite our past experiences, despite our good intentions—despite our firm belief that we are right—we are sometimes wrong. Recognizing this fact of existence will bring us great happiness, not only through the reduction in disappointment when we do err, but through the increased understanding of other people and their positions that we will gain by better appreciating the reasoning behind their decisions.
I remember the first time I realized that my shit did, in fact, stink. I was a wee little tot, maybe 7 or 8 years old, playing with my childhood best friend—I think we might have had some Ninja Turtles action figures, if I recall—and I got incredibly upset at my friend’s ignorance. I was 100% sure that the old guy with white hair in the Naked Gun movies was Steve Martin, and he was claiming that it was Leslie Nielsen. Of course he was the one who was 100% correct, but I was so sure, and I died on that hill. I got so mad that my friend left and I spilled some soda on a cheap casio keyboard. I stewed and stewed about it, replaying it over and over in my mind to celebrate my righteous indignation at his incorrect assertion. But eventually—and remember, no google back then…my family leaned heavily on our 1985 set of encyclopedias—I found out that he was right. And I. was. stunned. How could I have been so sure, yet been so wrong? Ever since that fateful day, I’ve tried to refrain from adopting 100% stances on almost anything.
But why did I make that choice? Well, if I’m speaking honestly, a lot of the reason comes from fear, a fear of being called out for being wrong. Not the best reason. But does the reason really matter, so long as the result is right? Yes, it does. Why? The answer is the same as it was in last month’s blog: Neuroplasticity!
Taking a critical look at some of the decisions that I’ve made over my life, from buying a dilapidated 156 year old Victorian house to hurting my knee after deciding I didn’t need formal instruction to ski fast, a shocking number of them have been made based on fear. Fear of not having any money, fear of missing out on opportunities, fear of not achieving success in my career, fear of being alone—fear has basically been my sidekick. And while sometimes that motivation leads to similar outcomes to those that may have resulted from more *pure* motivations, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it causes me to make decisions that are at odds with my core, with how I see myself. And at times, it’s led me to make horrible decisions.
Here’s the thing. If we let that fear be the motivator in our choice of whether or not to swear 100% confidence in something, then we’ll be that much more likely to let fear be the motivator in other situations, too. And those situations will reinforce fear yet again, and so on and so on. We’ve all held grudges at one time or another; in that situation, we make an initial decision to disagree or dislike someone, and then, as we go into every ensuing exchange with that person, our feelings deepen and grow roots as we use whatever happens as reinforcers of our previously held belief. This can lead to wasting years or even lifetimes on grudges, all based on an initial interaction that was subsequently reinforced through the thoughts you unconsciously continue to have about them. To an extent, our brains organize themselves around decisions that are made, and each decision serves as a form of reinforcement (neuroplasticity). This is why it’s important that we choose our motivations wisely; otherwise we may end up deepening neural connections that lead us to react to situations in suboptimal ways.
So how can we use the *right* motivation? First, it’s probably not a good idea to look at it as a binary choice. Life usually works in shades of gray. Second, we should think about the root of our desire to avoid unpleasant situations. In most of my relevant situations, yes, I did have the fear of being called out for being wrong, the fear of being exposed as a fraud. But was that really the root? If I look deeper, I can see past how my actions affect me. In doing so, I came to the conclusion that what truly bothers me is that I don’t want to hurt others with my actions. I don’t want to assert a 100% belief in something if there’s even the smallest possibility that I will be wrong and thus either a) lead someone else astray, or b) argue/fight with them about my incorrect answer.
It’s possible to still frame that as a fear. You could say that I’m afraid to lead someone astray, or afraid to argue with someone, and I wouldn’t argue with you, but there is a difference in my initial view and these other possibilities. In this situation, I believe it amounts to more than semantics. I believe it has to do with genuine intent. That said, even if it was just semantics, then framing as a fear still presents a problem. That’s because our brains will adjust accordingly and we will end up personally identifying more with that emotion. So, take the time to ensure that you frame your mistakes in the appropriate manner, with an eye toward self-compassion and self-improvement.
Unfortunately, the whole world does not do this. Countries do not do this, states do not do this. In fact, it’s likely a very small number of people who are trying to be mindful of their decisions in this way. Many people probably think that they’re a part of the “mindful consideration club,” but their behavior would suggest otherwise. I write that not to cast shade on the rest of the world, especially since I err with regularity myself, but to raise awareness of the near ubiquitous application of over-confidence found in the world. Just about everyone has beliefs that they would swear by, and it’s not restricted just to meaningful, big beliefs; it includes small, seemingly inconsequential decisions like whether or not to die on a hill for the name of some actor in a movie. Each of these add up and reinforce future decisions, which is why we all think we’re right, even when we’re not. Being mindful of other people’s tendencies as well as our own will allow us to live our lives as authentically as possible, and ultimately lead to a happier existence.