"I Was Wrong"

When I was in high school, I had a math teacher, who, now and then, would make an error at the board. When someone (never I!) would call her on it, her default reply was: "I know--I was just trying to see if any of you would notice." Sure.

People in authority--hell, people in general these days--seem incapable of admitting that they're wrong, that they've made a mistake. On social media, when was the last time you read something like this? Oh, you're right--I was wrong about that. Did you ever hear a TV pundit say something like that?

Me, neither.

No, people nowadays tend to "double down"--to become ever more harsh and judgmental and damning.

Over my long teaching career (about 45 years) I slowly learned that admitting mistakes in front of the class--of apologizing to kids to whom I'd said something hasty or unkind (or both), of letting them know that something I'd told them was inaccurate--was a good thing. For me. For the kids. I wish I'd been strong enough earlier in my career to do so, but as a young teacher, I guess I feared that admitting error was akin to admitting incompetence.

It's not. It's akin to admitting you're human. That you can learn.

And today? In these days of mavens who hold forth on TV debates? Who publish op-eds in the newspapers and online? Who have blogs (!)? Who pontificate on Twitter and in comment sections and elsewhere?

Admissions of error are as rare as a hen's dentures.

It's as if we have come to think that if we acknowledge fallibility, we are surrendering something. That we will lose all future credibility. That the mirrors of our cherished beliefs (and biases) will crack.

I think it would be good if all columnists, all TV commentators would have to do an annual (monthly?!) piece entitled: "The Times I've Been Wrong." I would guess that some of the lists would be very, very long. Combined, all the dire and inaccurate predictions that pundits make--on both sides of the political divide--would consume all the memory of the latest iPhone.

And maybe another regular column called "I'm Sorry."

(Though there are commentators on the Right and Left who assail their allies who do apologize.)

I guess what it comes down to is this: Admissions of fallibility reveal our humanity. Without such admissions we find it harder to feel true empathy, to listen, to compromise. To have hope.

And so I love the image at the top of the page. Two words: Error and OK. That about says it all.