"I don't know" – three words that should be far more common on social media

There are three words that seem to be getting harder and harder to say:

I don't know.

Strange, really. We live in a world where humanity collectively has access to more knowledge than ever before, yet every single person seems expected to have a personal overview of absolutely everything.

War in the Middle East? Hold on, let me just grab a coffee. I have an analysis.

Trump? Putin? Or anyone else? Oh yes, I know him well.

Artificial intelligence? Of course. I saw a video about it yesterday.

Climate change? Just give me five minutes.

Diet? We're all professors on that one.

Kundalini? Oh yes. I've read three Instagram posts. And suddenly we're sitting there with a doctorate in geopolitics, nutritional science, quantum physics and international economics before lunch.

I've started wondering when "I don't know" became a sign of weakness. Because I actually think it's a fairly liberating sentence.

I don't know. Done.

No footnotes. No PowerPoint. No desperate googling under the table to find an article confirming what I've already decided to believe.

Just: I don't know.

I've experienced things I can't explain. I've felt things in my body that I don't understand. I've had spiritual experiences that don't fit particularly well into what I learned in school, while also having a background in science and knowing how important it is to distinguish between what we believe, what we experience, and what we can actually document. So what was it? I don't know. Fantastic sentence. It works on almost everything. Was it kundalini? I think so. Do I know it? No. Was it a spiritual experience? Maybe. Could there be another explanation? Of course. Does that mean the experience wasn't real for me? No. And that's exactly where I think it starts getting interesting.

Why do we have such a violent need to put everything in a box? Either it has to be true or false. Science or spirituality. Right or left. Brilliant or idiotic. Enlightened or completely out to lunch. We humans love boxes. Preferably boxes with lids. That way we avoid anything new coming in and messing up our worldview. The only problem is that reality seems to have a pretty relaxed relationship with our boxes. Every time humanity has been absolutely certain that "now we understand it," the universe has tended to lean back and say, "Oh, how cute." And then something new shows up. Yet we keep going. Especially on social media. There seems to be no uncertainty at all. People know. And not only do they know. They know in ALL CAPS. They know what's really happening in Ukraine. They know who runs the world. They know why the neighbour is a narcissist. They know what you should eat, how you should train, whom you should vote for, how you should raise your kids and why your left knee hurts. All of this before breakfast. And if you were foolish enough to write:

"I'm not sure."

Then someone immediately shows up to help you. Not with information. With an opinion.

I actually think we need a bit more uncertainty. Not the kind of uncertainty where you don't dare to stand for anything. I mean the intellectual humility that says: This is what I believe right now, based on what I know and have experienced. But I might be wrong. Imagine if we wrote that more often. The comment sections would collapse. Social media servers would get a day off. Half the internet would have to be retrained. And Captain Ego would, of course, have a full-blown panic attack. Because the ego loves to know. It loves definitive answers. "I'm right" is roughly the ego's favourite sentence, closely followed by: "What did I tell you?" "I knew it." And the classic: "I got that right away." "I don't know" is far more uncomfortable. Because then you open the door. Maybe you haven't understood something yet. Maybe the other person has seen something you haven't. Maybe you have to change your mind. Shudder. Imagine defending an opinion for ten years and suddenly discovering you no longer believe it. What do you do then?

You could, of course, spend the next ten years defending it anyway. That's a popular solution. Especially within science. Or you could say: "You know what? I was wrong."

There we have four new words that should be far more common on social media. I no longer have any ambition to understand everything. It has actually become much more fun to be curious. I can look into something without having to decide. I can experience something without having to explain it. I can listen to another person without having to agree. And I can change my mind. That doesn't mean I lack a backbone. It just means I'm still learning.