Most people dislike being wrong. People especially dislike when someone shows them they are wrong.
I know the feeling. In the distant past, I felt assaulted when someone tried to correct where my thinking or facts had gone askew. I minimized the impact of my incorrectness, by slinking away or saying, “oh”, hoping no one noticed. I rationalized my errors as someone else’s fault or got defensive. I hated being wrong. With a passion. More than forgetting to brush my hair before school. More than having broccoli in my teeth and not noticing for five hours. More than when my parents took away my book light to prevent me from staying up half the night reading. More than just about anything.
However, I was wrong about being wrong.
I don’t mean that being wrong a-priori is awesome. Being wrong is okay. Everybody does that. Being shown you are wrong is better – it’s actually quite wonderful.
You know the person who can’t admit when ze* is wrong? The person who will practically contort reality to avoid being wrong? I don’t want to be that person. So I quit.
Being wrong gives me prudence to change, to let new evidence guide my thinking and shape my view of the world. Rather than feeling embarrassment when I am wrong, steering conversation away from my wrongness or blaming someone else, I embrace and celebrate being wrong. Instead of feeling attacked when someone points out my wrongness, I thank them for giving me the ability to update my ever changing view of reality.
Once, when a student, I wrote in an early draft of my research paper, “We will collect kinematic and kinetic research data on our subjects”. I told people I would be collecting kinematics and kinetics. My mentor/professor highlighted the words, “kinematic and kinetic” in red and adding question marks. We met and he asked, “do you know what those words mean”?
The ability to recognize when something is wrong is essential to science. We would relegate science to dogmatism if the consensus on truth remained the same despite evidence to the contrary. A good scientist constantly updates hir views to reflect new evidence, something that cannot occur unless said scientist uses wrongness as a catalyst for change. A scientist saying, “Oh! My data falsifies my hypothesis. Wow! Time to rethink that idea,” does science right, whereas a scientist who says, “Oh! My data falsify my hypothesis. I know my hypothesis is true, so the data are wrong,” is a hack.
When someone shows me I am wrong, incorrect, mistaken or in error – I love it. I shout my wrongness to the world, I write blog posts about the extent of my wrongness, to show people that the only thing wrong about being wrong is an unwillingness to use wrongness to find rightness.
No matter how insignificant or how greatly my thinking goes astray, I find being wrong a pleasant and positive experience. I did this to myself, enjoying when someone shows me I am wrong is a construction between my ears. I make wrongness wonderful instead of painful, by owning and shaping my perception of wrongness based on who I want to be.
In doing so, I hope I can convince other people out there in the world that being wrong is not shameful.
So, next time you find your thinking is amiss, askew, astray, at fault, awry, bad, counterfactual, defective, erratic, erring, erroneous, fallacious, false, faulty, fluffed, goofed, in error, inaccurate, inexact, miscalculated, misconstrued, misfigured, misguided, mishandled, mistaken, not precise, not right, not working, off-target, on the wrong track, out, out of commission, out of line, out of order, perverse, rotten*, sophistical, specious, spurious, ungrounded, unsatisfactory, unsound, unsubstantial, or untrue, try being thankful of the opportunity for change. Being thankful feels better, makes you think better, and helps your grip on reality evolve ever and ever closer to provisional truth.