by David D. Horowitz.
“I’m not sure yet.” “I still have some reservations.” “Could you hold off for a week until I research the issue to address some lingering doubts?” “I’ve decided—sort of. I need to check a few last details before I decide, though. Would that be okay?”
Of course! Take your time, and make sure you feel good about your decision. I’d rather you acknowledge than repress your doubts.
Indecision’s sources can be difficult to trace. It can, indeed, reflect equivocating cowardice, but it can also reflect the courage to face complexity and synthesize it into one’s larger understanding. And it might reflect both concurrently.
Personally, I’d rather let people indulge doubt than pressure them into half-sincere expressions of consistency. Isn’t that how so many religious, political, and aesthetic groups go awry? Consider, for example, the medieval church’s intolerance of “heresy” and the consequent Reformation that exploded across Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Pressuring adherents into dogmatic commitments might initially seem to provide community, belonging, and order, but more often than not it causes later friction and fracture. And isn’t this how so many romances, marriages, and friendships go bad? Pressuring someone to be “all in” rather than accepting their doubts might initially deepen commitment, but eventually it deepens tension.
Indulging others’ doubts and curiosity almost defines tolerance, and tolerance can only thrive when those in power understand the importance of dissent in appreciating life’s complexity. Dogma does not like dissent. Dogma might not want to hear COVID-19 is not finished in two months. Dogma might not want to hear compelling evidence proving the dangerous prevalence of global warming. And dogma might not want to listen to dissidents from countries with communist and collectivist economies speak of hunger, torture, and corruption they’ve witnessed and endured. “Reality” is a slippery term notoriously difficult to define—but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a reality. Dogma-defying complexity doesn’t simply disappear because we don’t like it. And the more we avoid, evade, lie, and pretend, the worse a problem typically becomes. Witness President Trump’s absurd denials in February at the onset of COVID-19’s rampage across the United States. He never said “I might be wrong,” as he thought that would make him look weak and would undermine the economy and his reelection chances. “I’m not sure” to the know-it-all is for wimps, cowards, equivocators. And such a person loathes when others encourage doubt, equating doubt with disloyalty. Message to dogma: doubt is not a synonym for disloyalty, and loyalty to oneself need not entail betrayal of others.
So, how can we simultaneously cultivate the strength to decide and commit—and to doubt, listen, tolerate, and pause? Well, first we can give ourselves and others permission to change views. We can decide—and then realize we overlooked crucial evidence or misperceived cost, difficulty, time commitment, logistics, scheduling, or philosophical challenges. And it’s okay to back off to reconsider. This need not entail cowardice or disloyalty. “Sort of” and “maybe” and “I might be wrong” often lead us to a deeper, better, more empathetic place. We are here to evolve, not simply find a rut in which we can comfortably conform. And, second, when someone disagrees with us, we needn’t react as if it were a personal affront (see ninety percent of blog comment threads these days) but civilly encourage honest response. For, more often than not, “sort of” leads us to a better place than does “I’m sure.”