Be humble. Because no matter how much you think you know or how much you actually know, the list of things you don’t know will always be way the hell longer than the list of things you do know. As if that weren’t bad enough, there’s also a list of things you think you know that you’ve got wrong.
Trust me, those things you think you know are just waiting out there in the world to make you look like an asshole as soon as you open your mouth to declare something you’re sure of. And I’m not telling you this to say I know more than you, or that I’ve got it all figured out. In I have no idea what I’m talking about, I was pretty clear that I don’t know everything. What I’m telling you is that you don’t either, and you should act accordingly.
How? Be humble.
In Carl Sagan’s Pale Blue Dot, he says that “astronomy is a humbling and character-building profession.”
Why’s that?
Let’s start small, with our planet.
And by small, I mean relative to the rest of the universe. Relative to you and me, the Earth is pretty fucking huge. We’ve got 7.7 billion people, 99.999999% of which you’ll never meet. There are 196 countries, most of which you’ll never visit. Even in a country with only 50 states, I’m still 11 short of visiting all of them, and I like to travel. The size of our planet should be humbling enough.
We live on a massive planet with more cultures, history, and people than you’ll ever have a chance of understanding completely. And yet, that Earth is just a teeny, tiny fraction of the planets in our universe. Viewed in just the context of our galaxy, Earth is tiny.
How tiny?
In 1990, as NASA’s Voyager 1 was headed out of the solar system, it turned around to take look back at Earth. From so far away, (3.7 billion miles from the sun), our whole planet was just a pale blue dot. In his 1994 book, “Pale Blue Dot,” Carl Sagan wrote about the significance of that picture. If you haven’t read that book or heard his thoughts about that picture, go back and click the pale blue dot link. Spend 4 minutes watching the video, and then come back. I’ll wait.
When I watch that video, it humbles me. It stretches my perception of the size of our universe and reminds me just how tiny a part of that universe I actually am. The city and state where we live is just a small part of a small part of our planet. And if that planet is a small part of something so vast I can’t begin to comprehend it? That humbles me, as it should anyone.
I don’t say this to make you feel unimportant; you are and will always be the only star of the movie of your life. You also play a massive role in the movie of my life. I only want you to realize how much else there is around you; more to learn than you’ll ever learn and more to see than you’ll ever see.
So, don’t act like you’ve seen it all; you haven’t.
For that matter, nobody else has either, so when you meet people who pretend like they have, don’t believe them. (More on this in a bit.)
Beyond the things you don’t know yet, there are the things you think you know, but don’t. You’ll encounter an idea and wonder why it was never adopted, only to learn it has been tried and actually sucks. For example, Communism or shaving your butt crack. Both interesting in concept, and awful in reality.
I’ve been certain of many things in life that turned out to be not so. In some cases, I’ve come to understand how wrong I was on my own. And sometimes, other people helped me with this discovery. This is, unfortunately, one of the most memorable ways to learn that you do not actually know what you’re talking about.
Here’s how you avoid feeling like an asshole in those situations. If you’re not sure, admit it. If you don’t know, say so. At the very least, just keep your mouth shut and listen. That’s how you can avoid looking stupid and learn.
In What Will People Think?, I mentioned “the knowers.” You’ll know them by the never-ending stream of self-assured nonsense that comes out of their mouths. These are the ones who mansplain, who talk over experts, who are so incapable of humility, of admitting the limitations of their own knowledge that they put these limits on display for everyone to see.
It’s counterintuitive, but it takes a strong and confident person to admit they don’t know something.
Humility isn’t easy.
No, the easy path is pretending you know, or shouting down everyone who actually does. Instead, listen to a mantra your Mom picked up from one of her mentors at work. “I reserve the right to get smarter every day.”
How?
That link goes to a scene from Ted Lasso, and is Ted misquoting Walt Whitman. Don’t let the misattribution throw you off, the idea still holds water. By withholding judgement and letting curiosity lead, you will learn more, you will be wrong less, and most importantly, you will get smarter every day.
As just one person on a pale blue dot spinning round an enormous universe, you can’t know everything. You’re going to be wrong plenty.
Both are okay.
As long as you don’t let what you don’t know today stop you from knowing it tomorrow, you’ll be just fine.
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.