James Bass: I know that I don’t know

The older I get, the thing I am most certain of is that I don’t know.

What do I not know? A lot of things.

It’s not because of cognitive decline, although my children would argue differently. I’m fairly literate, so I’m not talking about a general lack of knowledge. It’s not that I don’t keep up with current events. We all harbor uncertainty about the future, but that’s natural.

I can’t tell you what it is that I don’t know; I’m just cautiously hesitant to say I know.

When I was younger it frustrated me when adults didn’t give me complete or even coherent answers, but now I think I understand a little better. As we get older our horizons get wider and so do the diverse perspectives we must take into account. And things aren’t always black and white. For me, the older I’ve gotten, the more shades of grey I see.

I’m ok admitting that I don’t always have the answers. Explanations are not always simple, and in some cases, a blanket “I don’t know” just fits well. It’s a kind of plausible deniability if you will. Who remembers Sgt. Schultz from Hogan’s Heroes? “I know nothing…” he often said. If you even remember that show, then you probably understand from where I’m coming.

Years ago, during a Catholic service I watched a young boy approach our priest and ask him some kind of existential question. I don’t remember the exact question he asked, but what I do remember – very distinctly – was Father Bob’s response: “I don’t know…” (as he raised is vestment-cloaked arms with a shrug and walked away).

I thought Father Bob’s response was perfect. Children tend to look at authoritative figures like the clergy as if they have all the answers. None of us do, and his sincere response, albeit not satisfying for that young boy, was more than satisfying for me. He honestly just didn’t know.

There is a term called “metacognition,” which is an awareness of our own thought processes. In other words, it’s knowing what you know. Sometimes, I guess, we don’t know what we don’t know.

Both Plato and Socrates agreed that true knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing. So maybe I’m onto something.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way, although it’s likely that most people are unaware that they don’t know as much as they think they do. The Dunning-Kruger Effect is the psychological tendency to overestimate our own competence level because of a lack of skills. This usually comes from thinking we know more than we do.

“I don’t know” is absolutely a rhetorical device to be employed when you simply don’t want to engage. It gets me off the hook when I’m overstimulated, and my kids are asking more questions than I can answer at once.

But let’s be clear. Using the phrase “I don’t know” isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card to avoid the responsibility of knowing things you should know but don’t. We can’t know everything, and that presents an opportunity for learning something new.

Maybe not knowing is good.

They say that “ignorance is bliss” and “what you don’t know won’t hurt you.” I don’t completely agree with either, but there is truth in both expressions.

It’s a crazy world we live in, and I think we can all agree about that to some extent. Every day there’s something new to make us shake our heads. I try not to complain or explain, and what gives me peace when others ask my thoughts about the state of things is to shrug my shoulders, furl my brow, and say, “I don’t know.”

I have fewer opinions than I once did. I don’t think everything needs my opinion, but that’s also because I don’t always know enough information to make an informed decision. I’m usually not willing to throw my weight behind unfounded information. So, what works best in that situation? I think you know: “I don’t know…”