This famous quote, attributed to Socrates, felt almost paradoxical to me for years. How could someone who left such a profound mark on history say that they knew nothing?
For years, I believed that the people who spoke with the greatest confidence knew the most.
It was only later that I realized that the confidence with which someone speaks is not the same as the quality of their thinking.
Have you ever found yourself double-checking your thoughts before sharing an opinion? Pausing for a moment, wondering whether you might have overlooked something, carefully choosing your words because it matters to you that what you say is accurate?
If this sounds familiar, there’s a good chance you’ve spent years believing that before speaking, you had to be completely certain you were right.
I certainly did. Not because I lacked knowledge or experience, but because I felt a deep sense of responsibility for what I said.
Throughout my banking career, I watched entire rooms place their trust in the person who sounded the most certain. Not because they had the strongest arguments, but because they spoke as if there were no possibility they could be wrong.
Later, it often turned out that they were. That realization changed the way I evaluate people. The confidence with which someone speaks is not the same as expertise.
Some of the most competent people I know are precisely those who don’t feel the need to have an answer to every question.
They are comfortable saying:
- “I don’t know at this moment, and I don’t want to speculate.”
- “Let’s check before we draw a conclusion.”
- “I hadn’t considered it from that perspective. I’m glad you brought it up.”
And that is exactly why I trust them.
Their confidence doesn’t come from a need to always be right.
It comes from being comfortable admitting when they don’t know something.
The problem begins when we believe that leaders must always have the answer. People gradually stop asking questions. They stop offering ideas. They become less willing to say what they really think.
Instead, they start trying to figure out what the leader wants to hear. From a somatic perspective, this is not accidental.
When our nervous system experiences disagreement as a threat, we become driven by the need to be right.
- To prove ourselves.
- To defend our position.
- To avoid showing uncertainty.
But when we have genuine inner security, our identity isn’t threatened simply because someone thinks differently. We can pause, listen and change our minds when new information emerges. That isn’t weakness. It’s a sign that we don’t need to be right in order to feel secure.
Today, I pay far less attention to how confidently someone speaks and much more attention to what happens when their ideas are challenged.
That is where the difference becomes visible between the need to be right and true inner security.
Leadership doesn’t lose credibility when someone says, “I don’t know.” It loses credibility when we mistake confidence for competence, and allow the loudest voice in the room to matter more than the best thinking.
