Michael Gorman
School of Philosophy, CUA
Few of us like to admit to being wrong. We drag our feet before doing so. Sometimes we don’t do it at all, but instead cling to whatever foolish thing we have thought or said.
Why hang on to error? Why be wrong when we don’t need to be? Presumably such irrationality is rooted in pride, which Augustine described as the “appetite for inordinate exaltation.” Being right is a way of being up there, of being exalted. Admitting that we are wrong humiliates us; it brings us back to earth. We don’t want to feel the pain of falling, so we cling to error, even though doing so besmirches our rational natures.
Changing our outlook can help. We can, for example, focus on the following fact: the instant we admit to being wrong about something, we aren’t wrong about it anymore. Error is the only evil that is eliminated simply by being noticed. A false belief, acknowledged as such, is no longer one of our beliefs. Yes, we were wrong, but we aren’t wrong now.
That’s a remedy we can apply in our own case. But how can we act in ways that change the culture around us, so that others can more easily admit it when they are wrong? How can we cultivate an environment in which people can aim at truth fearlessly, even when grasping it means letting go of positions they’ve been clinging to? Perhaps the best way is simply by being polite, and even gentle, to those who admit that they were wrong. If we don’t rub their noses in it, or dance in triumph, then we are lowering the social cost of admitting error. Changing one’s mind ought to seem normal, even healthy, and not a sign of weakness.
It’s worth examining our consciences on this score. Do I engage in reasoning to lead myself and others towards truth, or to win arguments? Is it important to me not only that my interlocutor arrives at the best answer, but also that he acknowledges that he was wrong and that I was right? In short, is it important to me to hold the higher position? Pride takes many forms.
