It doesn’t take much investigation to conclude that Aristotle was brilliant. Simply skimming a Britannica article about him is likely to leave the reader feeling surprised at how much he accomplished (he invented formal logic, started the study of zoology, and created philosophical works that remain influential today) and certain that he was a genius. When it came to intellectual pursuits, he was everywhere – like high fructose corn syrup.
But he was also a total bozo. In an article for the New York Times, philosopher Agnes Callard tells us Aristotle defended slavery as being beneficial to the slave and considered slaves, women, and manual laborers unable to become virtuous and earn full respect.
Callard argues that these horrendous takes from Aristotle are not simply offhand comments, but the result of Aristotle’s core beliefs. His empirical observations paired with his feelings on virtue informed these opinions. And while we can say (as Callard does) that we should read Aristotle as someone of his time and still worth engaging with, there’s no doubt that he was wrong about plenty of stuff.
The reason behind pointing out Aristotle’s shortcomings in ethics isn’t to paint Aristotle as exceptionally wrong compared to other philosophers. Until less than a couple hundred years ago, racist, sexist, and classist views among the world’s leading thinkers were common. The point instead is to show that when putting forth an opinion of any sort, we have to expect that we may not only be wrong, but condemnable. Because if someone as brilliant as Aristotle had such awful opinions, imagine how ridiculous some of ours must be…
The Social Chameleon
So how do we handle the problem that many of our opinions are bound to be distasteful, foolish, and even immoral? One quote sometimes attributed to Aristotle (but more likely from Elbert Hubbard) deals with the issue:
There is only one way to avoid criticism: Do nothing. Say nothing. Be nothing.
Elbert Hubbard
This quote is supposed to be anti-advice. But I, perhaps along with many others, have taken this advice literally at times. Many of us have likely decided to suppress our interests to fit in, bite our tongue to avoid disagreement, and ultimately let our personality turn chameleon-like – blending into the setting we find ourselves in rather than upholding valued parts of ourselves.
This strategy of social camouflaging is tempting because of its effectiveness in avoiding conflict, but it doesn’t really work long-term. This is because it’s built on the premise that being silent or agreeable will keep you from being condemnable. This is not the case.
The Problem with Social Camouflaging
The social chameleon is only as ethical as their surroundings. We may praise a social chameleon when we see them among a group of civil rights activists. But privately, they lack the level of conviction their cause requires. And if they suddenly found themselves among a group of racists instead, their opinions would soon shift and deserve our condemnation. Unfortunately, they lack the commitment to stand up for what they believe in regardless of who’s around them.
It’s understandable to be terrified of standing up for what we believe in. Not only for the obvious reason that people who have spoken unpopular truths throughout history have been exiled, jailed, and killed, but also because there’s always a chance we’re wrong in our convictions. Nobody wants to be the guy who defends flat earth theory or the Game of Thrones ending.
So to defend against such fears, the social chameleon blends in rather than speaking out. Much more effectively than an actual chameleon I might add, because chameleons don’t really change colors to match their surroundings. But pretend they do for the analogy!
Aristotle on Virtue
To navigate the difficulty of fitting in versus standing out, or of being a pushover versus being stubborn, we can turn to one of Aristotle’s better opinions. According to Aristotle, virtue lies on a continuum between two vices. (This idea is called the doctrine of the mean. Stanford’s entry on Aristotle’s Ethics provides a detailed explanation of it.)
The cliche (but still wise) way of saying this is that we should have “everything in moderation.” It is always possible to have too much of a good thing, even character traits.
Take courage as an example. Courage is a virtue that lies between the two extremes of cowardice and recklessness. The person who never takes chances will never achieve anything noteworthy and will never risk their safety to help others. George Costanza’s reaction to realizing he’s in a burning building provides the perfect model for such cowardice.
On the other extreme, the person who takes too many chances will make horrible judgment calls and put themselves and others in danger as a result. The classic clip of Leroy Jenkins ignoring the plan of his teammates and rushing into danger serves as a perfect example of someone who was reckless, not courageous. If he was courageous without being reckless, he would have maintained his bravery while making more calculated decisions.
Courage and Opinions
It’s fitting to use courage as an example, because expressing opinions takes courage. Indeed, learning how to take social risks is comparable to learning how to take physical risks.
In the case of expressing opinions, the virtue we’re looking for lies somewhere between the extremes of stubbornness and timidity. It’s impossible to perfectly balance between these two, or perhaps even to describe what such a perfect balance would be. But we can look at examples of what not to do and follow some guidelines to keep ourselves from the extremes.
There is such a thing as having too much conviction in your beliefs. One of the best examples of this comes from the executives of White Star Line, the shipping line in charge of the Titanic:
There is no danger that Titanic will sink. The boat is unsinkable and nothing but inconvenience will be suffered by the passengers.
Phillip Franklin, White Star Line VP
I guess whether Mr. Franklin was wrong or not depends on your definition of “inconvenience.” But jokes aside, there’s no question the arrogance of people involved with the Titanic was catastrophic. In fact, Thomas Andrews, the Chief Designer of the Titanic, argued for more lifeboats and safety measures. But executives dismissed him on the grounds that such measures would spoil the view of first class passengers.
The tragedy of the Titanic displays the consequences of both stubbornness and timidity. Obviously the hubris of the executives was the main reason why the Titanic was so unprepared for an emergency, and ultimately why so many lives were lost. But a lack of conviction from designers like Andrews also played a part in the loss of life.
To his credit, Andrews warned about a lack of safety. In fact, he even went down with the ship, trying to save as many lives as he could. But how many more lives (including his own) could he have saved if he and his peers had the conviction to fully express their concerns?
Intellectual Humility
A modern-day psychologist or philosopher may describe Thomas Andrews as lacking confidence and the executives behind the Titanic as lacking intellectual humility.
The term intellectual humility refers to a person’s understanding of their own lack of knowledge and willingness to accept that some of their beliefs may be wrong. In a word, it means not exaggerating how much we know. The trait of intellectual humility is associated with better relationships, decisions, and communities. And after reflecting on it, it’s not hard to imagine why: arrogant people often annoy others with arguments, make brash decisions, and polarize communities.
Intellectual humility is the virtue that can guide us towards healthier conversations. Knowing that they can be wrong, an intellectually humble person stays open to other views while valuing their own evidence and expertise. As a result, they are effective and balanced communicators.
Keys to Intellectual Humility
The topic of intellectual humility has no shortage of research and discussion. Search for it on Google Scholar and you’ll get 310,000 results; search for it on Google and you’ll get a seemingly infinite list of blog posts, PDFs, books, and more. Everyone has something to say about intellectual humility. And they have for thousands of years, with philosophers dating as far back as Socrates (470-399 BC) stressing the importance of knowing one’s intellectual limits.
It would be impractical and impossible to cover all of the lessons surrounding intellectual humility. But below is a list of some of the most important takeaways.
1. Always remember that you can be wrong.
This point should be obvious, as it is central to the definition of intellectual humility. But the problem with humility in general is that everyone thinks they’re humble. It’s not much different from how everyone thinks they’re kind or a good driver.
A few years ago, psychologist Mark Leary conducted a survey where he asked people how often they thought they were wrong in their disagreements. The results give us a glimpse into just how hilariously overconfident we are: 82% of respondents said they are usually the one who’s right!
If we don’t keep this human tendency towards intellectual overconfidence in the front of our minds, we won’t be able to fight against it. We must constantly remind ourselves that we have been wrong before, we will be wrong again, and we may be wrong right now.
2. Let your confidence be proportional to your knowledge
When discussing something, we can be intellectually humble by asking ourselves one simple question:
“Do I know what I’m talking about right now?”
It’s surprising how often the answer is “no,” and how often we carry on as if the answer is “yes.” Our current culture is infested with confident opinions from people with inadequate knowledge. In the past few years, we’ve seen tech CEOs pose as virologists, YouTubers pose as medical doctors, and an infinite amount of social media users pose as political experts.
As previously pointed out with the story of the Titanic, confidence from the wrong person can be extremely destructive. If we wish to avoid such situations, we need to understand when we’re the expert and when we’re not. In the case of the Titanic, Thomas Andrews should have had more confidence than the executives at White Star. He was the expert.
Who is worthy of an opinion?
This doesn’t mean only experts should share opinions. It just means that when someone with more knowledge relevant to the subject disagrees with us, we should question the belief we hold. Perhaps we’ll find that we were uninformed or misinformed on the topic and we’ll change our mind. Or, maybe we’ll conduct some research and find that many experts back our opinion as well. In the latter case, we may reasonably keep our opinion.
Either way, questioning our belief in the moment of disagreement with someone more knowledgeable is valuable. It’s possible that the expert is wrong. But you know who’s wrong more often than experts? People who have no clue what they’re talking about!
Similarly, where your knowledge comes from in a discussion matters as well. Studies show that people high in intellectual humility care about the quality of the sources they cite. If we wish to become more intellectually humble, we must evaluate sources and arguments, understanding who’s credible and what’s logical.
When we have a similar amount of knowledge and expertise as the person we’re discussing an issue with, we run into what philosophers have called the problem of peer disagreement. Some argue that in such a situation we should become less confident in our beliefs; others claim it’s acceptable to remain sure of ourselves. Either option is reasonable so long as the disagreement is respectful.
3. Discuss to understand
The line that separates a good conversationalist and an annoying contrarian is quite clear. It depends on a simple rule: focus on understanding the other side rather than winning the argument.
People who come up with solutions and get to the truth don’t do it by assuming they’re right and working to defeat the other side in an argument. Instead, against all odds, they listen. Hearing other ideas and comparing them to their own, they work to figure out whose argument makes the most sense.
Nobody modeled this better than Socrates did with what we now call the Socratic method.
When he discussed issues with people in Athens, Socrates would not state an opinion of his own. Instead, he would tirelessly ask the person he was speaking with about their position, trying to get a strong understanding of their beliefs.
This is an excellent technique for having productive conversations. “You shouldn’t feel that way” becomes “why do you feel that way.” This reframing works even when we’re in the middle of disagreement.
It should be noted that often in Socrates’ conversations, he had a secret motive to get the other person to contradict themselves through the questions he asked. This proved they didn’t have a solid understanding of the issue. Unsurprisingly, it also irritated people. So maybe use that part of the method sparingly.
4. When you’re wrong, admit it
Just knowing that we may be wrong isn’t enough to be an intellectually humble and accountable person. We have to admit when we’re wrong for it to have any positive impact on the people around us.
Even if we stay vigilant against our own overconfidence and remember that we can be wrong, we will still make mistakes in our conversations. We’ll trust a bad source. We’ll overlook important details. We’ll make a big deal out of nothing. Or, we’ll do the all-too-annoying thing of “correcting” someone when we’re actually the one who’s wrong. (I hope it’s not just me who’s done this.)
In these instances, we have to own up to our mistakes. If we know we’ve done something wrong but we never admit it, we may be self-aware. But we’re certainly not humble nor kind. For self-awareness to be beneficial, it has to be followed by action. We must admit when we’ve made a mistake and apologize when these mistakes are harmful.
The amount of times that we make such mistakes will never be zero. If we think it’s zero, that’s a sign we’ve become a know-it-all or a social chameleon.
Some advice on correcting mistakes:
That being said, we can always be better at being wrong. We can be less stubborn and disparaging to other views while putting forth an opinion. And we can give sincere apologies when we realize we’re mistaken. Some great advice on this point comes from health and longevity expert Peter Attia. In this podcast, he explains that the most important thing to him is not making less mistakes. The key is to decrease both the severity of mistakes and the time it takes to apologize after making one.
If Aristotle were brought back to life today, hopefully he could be convinced that being sexist and classist is a problem, and he would soon apologize. I imagine such an apology would come after an intense feeling of pride derived from the fact that we still study his work in logic and ethics today well over 2,000 years after it was created.
Humility and Confidence Can Co-Exist
Even though many of his views are awful by today’s standards, we are still indebted to Aristotle for his contributions to science and philosophy. And we should, in some sense, be grateful that he had the courage to put forth these views. He likely assumed that people would judge his ideas harshly in the present and the future. But he expressed them anyway.
This type of courage is necessary for societal progress. People must have the courage to speak out on issues, put forth new ideas, and disagree with mainstream narratives. Without such courage, better technology, customs, and moral principles die in our minds instead of getting put into practice.
And for our ideas to make any impact on the world, we must have confidence in them. We must convince skeptics, disprove critics, and stay strong through insults. None of this is likely to happen without conviction.
This courage and confidence is not in conflict with intellectual humility. The confidence of great thinkers, leaders, and creatives does not take away from their humility. They have earned this confidence through their experience. Intellectual humility requires self-awareness, not self-doubt.
Before Charles Darwin published On the Origin of Species, which introduced the theory of evolution, he spent twenty years preparing his thoughts. TWENTY YEARS. His knowledge supported his confidence, and he was beyond qualified to challenge mainstream narratives.
Aristotle earned his confidence too. He spent twenty years at legendary philosopher Plato’s academy, studying great philosophy and figuring out what he agreed with and what he didn’t. By the time he was putting forth his own ideas, he was an expert on them.
Neither of these thinkers were acting against humility when they fought for their ideas with confidence and conviction. A person ceases to be humble when they overestimate their knowledge or ability, not when they judge it correctly and act accordingly.
As difficult as it is, we must constantly try to gauge how much confidence we should have in each of our beliefs and arguments. The alternative is to be either a pushover or a know-it-all. And it doesn’t take an expert to point out that neither of those options are desirable.