Nobody Knows Anything, And Other Things I’ve Learned

Humility is the bridge to knowledge, an antidote to fear, and provides a strength that leads to compassion and grace

I’m going to be 59 years old in a few months. I find this to be unfathomable. That’s just shy of sixty, which is absolutely ludicrous and not at all believable, or even remotely humorous. That’s old people territory. This is when you join a cohort of shuffling geriatrics who get cheap movie theater tickets, free rides on the bus, and pudding for dessert. Old as fuck, as the kids like to say. 

Of course, there’s always someone older than you, ready to shout you down, explaining that you don’t know what real old age is, and if you allow them, they’ll really give you something to cry about. Still, it won’t be long now before the wheels start to tremble and shake, right before they fall off, and it’s made me think about what wisdom, if any, I’ve accumulated in my life thus far. I came up with something of real value, something I think can be passed along for the good of society. If I had to choose one thing that I’ve learned and can pass on, one really important lesson, it would be this: No one knows anything.

I’m aware that this is a bold statement that will get pushback, especially from those who believe they do, but ask any expert about what they know and they’ll tell you they know very little, because they actually know enough to know how little they know. It’s a strange paradox, but also the reason why the idiot is so supremely confident. When your world is small, life appears to be simple. If the bus schedule rules your life, space and time are of little concern.

Certainly, there are people who know a lot about one thing, experts if you will, but chances are high that the more they know about that one thing, the less they know about everything else, and most people, don’t know much about anything. The vast majority of humanity is incredibly full of shit, pretending to know what they’re talking about, or too stupid to grasp the sheer volume of their ignorance. It’s maddening.

There are exceptions. There really are brilliant people in the world, but they usually have no power, little influence, and no platform. They’re few and far between, as well as isolated. If they’re smart enough, no one else really knows what they’re talking about in the first place, so it’s hard to measure their contribution to a competent, well-informed society. Being highly intelligent in no way makes your life easier, in fact, one could argue it makes it significantly worse. You end up slightly to moderately miserable because everyone around you is so colossally stupid. No one wants to be the smartest person in the room. It’s exhausting. 

It’s like having the nicest house on the street. Maybe your house really is nice, or maybe it’s just not as shitty as every other house on the block. It can be hard to know. Either way, you’re not going to feel like you’ve surrounded yourself with the best and brightest, and you’re going to get tired of everyone else falling short. It’s no fun being king shit in a village full of idiots.


Lest you think I am putting myself above the fray, let me disabuse you of this right now. The amount of things in life that I am ignorant about dwarfs what little I do know, and I know quite a lot—more than most, even. The difference, is that I fully recognize, and even embrace, my ignorance. Ignorance isn’t stupidity, it’s a lack of knowledge. You can be smart and ignorant, just as you can be stupid and knowledgeable. Ignorance is not a permanent condition, but can be resolved by learning, whereas stupidity is a finite, settled state. It’s the willful ignorance I can’t abide, the refusal to grasp your own shortcomings.

Embracing ignorance leads to humility because when you admit how little you know, you’re open to new ideas, and remain curious about the world. Misplaced confidence leads to a stagnation in learning. The minute you think you know something, you stop searching for an answer and even new data will do little to change your mind. When you recognize that you don’t know shit, you’re more open to changing your mind, and that makes for a better, more civil society.

The real reason I think this is valuable information is that so many people are insecure about their knowledge about the world, assuming everyone else must know what they’re doing, even though almost everyone is faking it, deeply insecure themselves, and terrified of being discovered. Imposter syndrome is alive and well in the human condition, but it needn’t be.

In my line of work, I’ve had the opportunity to rub shoulders with many titans of industry, CEOs, entrepreneurs, and politicians. You can’t believe how pedestrian and unimpressive most of them turn out to be. Despite our absolute belief in meritocracy as the national religion, success in business or politics has very little to do with skill, knowledge, or talent. 

Some of the worst humans on the planet, narcissists and sociopaths, are most likely to rise to positions of power and wealth. They don’t know more than the average schmuck, they’re just willing to do what you are not, often with the added benefit of being born privileged and well-connected. When you have no conscience, you’re free to make difficult decisions that benefit you, and no one else.


We like to think of humility as a selfless, altruistic characteristic—a pious, righteous trait of the service-minded, but I think it can also be a selfish force for good. If you can recognize and accept your own limitations, and free yourself from the hypocrisy of thinking you have things all figured out, you’ll be less confident that you have the answer and will instead become more curious about what is possible. This, in turn, gives you a different sort of confidence, one of peace and serenity because you’ve been freed from the bondage of being right. You don’t need to be right, just curious and open.

There is nothing more attractive than quiet confidence. It makes people think you know something they don’t. The irony, of course, is that the easiest way to get there is to stop believing you have the answers. “I don’t know,” might be the three most powerful words a leader can utter in public. The person who can do that, has the world by the balls, and everyone feels it. A little smile when you say it doesn’t hurt.

That’s my advice.