Recently, a senior executive leader at my work recommended to me the book Think Again by Adam Grant. The book is a thought-provoking one & not only because of its title but due to the assertion that people who consider themselves an “expert” on something often can become overconfident in what they think they know. Grant quite convincingly explains that people can start to develop blinders, failing to acknowledge or accept anything that can contradict their perceptions–even when faced with incontrovertible facts & evidence. It’s not difficult to see this happen with others around you. I think most of us have been there, especially in arguments when lore & past experiences filter the way we remember things. But over time that knowledge can become distorted, like playing a game of telephone where you whisper a message into somebody’s ear & they tell the next person & so on until that message circles back to the beginning, all distorted & practically unrecognizable.

At times, I can hear myself reciting old facts, old knowledges, & the problem with that is that information & data are always in a state of flux. I mean, I grew up believing that Pluto was a planet, that margarine would be a healthier choice than real butter, that the brontosaurus had actually existed & then didn’t anymore & now again exists. We know that truth & facts are unstable constructs, & yet we can ourselves into thinking we “know” things, & even more so with letters that follow one’s last name.

Now that I’ve been in higher education since 1993 (1993-2007 as a student, 2000-2015 as an instructor, 2016-present as an administrator/executive leader) with 28 years of immersion in the life of the mind, I have to remind myself that what I think I know can age out & that the more distance I have from experiencing something directly the more that I can guesstimate, & then convert those guesstimations into calcified “facts” in my memory. As someone who relies on memory & recall very heavily in all facets of my life, I think that can be also my greatest Achilles’ Heel, that I can become misled by what I think I know instead of observing to see if what I think I know actually plays out to be true & accurate. Part of my recent professional commitment to myself & my institution is a deliberate check on myself & what I think I know about anything–subjects, people, places, & motives. If we remain in a state of constant curiosity & willingness to learn, then we can actually do just that: learn. Given that learning is my greatest strength & what energizes me the most, I can be perceived as very passionate in discussions where I think I’m right.

When I slow down & lighten up, even develop a sense of humor about my flaws & quirks, the more I can open myself up to true learning & growth. That’s something easier said than done, for sure.

One of the most compelling analogies Grant uses in his book is the three roles we tend to play when we are experts in an area, overconfident in what we think we know–the preacher, the prosecutor, & the politician. The premise is that when first met with opposition to some long-held thought or idea we can assume the position of the preacher, proselytizing & trying to convert others to our beliefs. (And, yes, I’m guilty as charged. Especially with politics & when around family & friends, much to my own chagrin.) Second, we can shift to the prosecutor if we’ve failed in our attempts to get someone to agree with us & our understanding of something, picking apart others’ views & arguments in dismissive ways. Finally, if the first two tactics have failed, we become the politician, trying to charm & persuade others that what we think is the right way to think, the best interpretation or ideas to hold true. Meanwhile, through all of these rhetorical modes & approaches, we never deviate from what we think is the truth or the one & only way to see things correctly. That time lost can become a time when disastrous decisions can be made, based on faulty inaccurate pseudo-expertise.

There is power in accepting when you are wrong about something. By being able to see where you are failing, you can change course & grow in positive ways for a much better, far more successful outcome. And that seems like a pretty worthy payoff!

And so, I’ve made this commitment to myself. When I start rely too much on what I think is intuition & my experience for proving my beliefs or positions are the best, most accurate, the only true divine sense of truth, then I’m in big trouble, setting myself up for a major fall. That’s when I can become my worst self–insecure, suspicious, outwardly overconfident or even arrogant, domineering, & bullheaded. The more I dig in to secure my position, that increasing rigidity can make me brittle, even unapproachable, as I’m not welcoming feedback or allowing others to be right; instead, I’m inadvertently cutting people off & out, & that distance I create can give others a very different perception of me than the image I’d like to project. It’s like when Galadriel is offered The Ring, & for a moment we glimpse the fearsome, frightening figure of unchecked power she could become–in all her terror & with her scary booming voice. When she successfully resists temptation, she then returns to her senses & retreats, admitting her own frailty & need to subside.

Power has a tendency to corrupt us, especially when that power takes the shape of knowledge & expertise. We can try to be the brightest bulb in the room, but what does that mean for all of the other lights? Are we really the brightest? Or are there other lights we are trying to eclipse & can’t see because we are the distraction, the distortion? It’s worth reconsidering, rethinking, & thinking again.