I Don't Know

If we look at all that surrounds us, we understand at once that we do not know much about it; and so we spare ourselves and our friends a host of troubles if we face the truth without fear and say: we do not know.

Salma sat down on the chair, then looked at me and said: "You said you have two magic words that lighten many difficulties for you — won't you let me in on the hidden secret?" "I don't know," I answered. Salma gave me a meaningful look, then laughed and said: "Sorry — I thought you were joking. So that is your expression? I don't know? Where is the magic in it? And how do you avoid troubles by it?"

Let us begin at the beginning, and I will explain to you how. Many psychologists have agreed that people's troubles come not from ignorance so much as from their knowledge of everything; if you are exceedingly sure of yourself, you are marching toward a tumble. The president of a certain university has said: "When a man's position goes wrong, he thinks it the final state he can reach, and he hates to withdraw from it despite the mistakes and problems it draws down upon him." And he says, "It is a pity that pupils in the schools are taught to be shy of the words: I don't know, and so fix it in their minds to learn and master everything." If you go to extremes of self-confidence, you face great difficulties. I remember accompanying a friend in a car; she had to get out before I did, and off she went without troubling herself about the stream of cars, and when I called her attention to it she answered: "They stop — they can't break the rules." This excess of confidence has led many people to the experience of riding in an ambulance.

There comes to my mind the theory of a certain scholar, which says: since no two things are wholly alike, and nothing stays as it is, your refusal to adjust to reality will be in proportion to your insistence and your ambition. To put it better: if you accept the expression "I don't know" as the basis of your action, you make ready a broad mind, because you want to learn, and the circle of your thinking widens.

The aware mind is built upon doubt; the intellectually mature person does not know everything, and knows that whatever security life offers is what springs from suppleness of thought.

I went on with my talk with Salma: every person is his own teacher, and the more certain we become of our information, the greater grows the difficulty before us, in our refusal to learn. — "Yes," said my companion, "I understand what you mean. The two magic words 'I don't know' carry you far from distress, since they help you to widen your mind, and you are at ease when you find yourself capable of learning. That is on your own side; but how does it help you to get on with others?" — I can answer that question briefly: "When we admit our ignorance, we become fit to judge others, and so we do not jump straight to the conclusion. I know a lady who hated a neighbor of hers from the day she came to the quarter, and said to me: 'She is a cross old crone — look at the knot fixed between her eyebrows.' Yet I found in this lady amusing company, and I learned the reason for her frowning: her sight is weak and her work demands staring; so tired eyes are not a frown. It is not necessary to form a fixed idea of another person — people hate that — so why should you try to make yourself hateful?

Experience has taught me that people love the one who listens to them more than the one who talks at them. The listener says: in truth I know nothing of the subject you are discussing, but I should love to learn. Here Salwa objected: "You can't sit like a rock through the conversation; you have to say something, don't you?" — "No doubt. You can fill the gap with questions that clarify the subject, or repeat the last sentence of the talk. For instance: 'Modern education is not succeeding —' and you ask: 'Do you feel that the masters of this field are mistaken?' You are not setting out your own view, nor arguing; you are telling the one who is talking to you that you know nothing of this, and encouraging him to go on with the conversation. The psychologists advise us to show our feelings instead of our opinions; there is a difference between saying to a lady: your new hairdo is ugly, and saying: 'I like your hair better the other way.'"

And here Salwa agreed with me that the two words are truly magic. She was lighting her fifth cigarette since the talk began, and she asked: "Do you think I smoke too much?!" I answered her simply: "I don't know."