Member-only story
Everyone Thinks They’re Wise
But they can’t be
We all trust ourselves and our opinions. We all think we’re above average in our beliefs. But we can’t be.
Half of the United States voted to make a psychopathic hemorrhoid their President.
My stepfather is certain he’s right about everything, if only the world would listen — but he also believes in elves and water divining.
“Not those fake elves, either — not that Lord of the Rings bullshit,” he notes, “but real elves— the ones under the mushrooms.”
“You mean fairies?” I ask.
“No! Jesus Christ — are you even listening? I’m talking about elvvvves!”
“Oh.”
I myself think I’m wise, but I’m regularly astonished by my own ignorance. But only by my ignorance in the distant past, not my present ignorance, which is too close and threatening to admit.
At the age of eleven, I wanted to be a wisdom-giver, because I was so wise and had so much figured out. If only people would listen to my prepubescent advice! I could help them so much!
Life coach? Psychiatrist? Philosophizer? Maybe even — god forbid — a motivational speaker? Yes, yes, please! Let me tell others how to live — because then I would be special, like a mage or a shaman!
