#60: I Don’t Know! [Podcast]

Welcome to Episode #60 of the Fight for a Happy Life podcast, “I Don’t Know!”

The greatest battle in the martial arts might be with your own ego. At least it is for me!

Here’s an embarrassing story from my past where my ego won… and I lost because of it!

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I Don’t Know!

TRANSCRIPT

Today on Fight for a Happy Life… I Don’t Know.

Here we go. Welcome to Episode #60 of Fight for a Happy Life, the show that believes a little martial arts makes life a whole lot better. I’m Ando and it always makes my day when you click that link and hit play. No kidding. Thank you for being here.

Hey—have you already listened to episodes #58 and 59? The interviews with Sifu Randy Brown and Sifu TW Smith? I sure hope so. There was a lot of wisdom and good humor in those chats, I thought. So, if you didn’t, put those on your “to do” list.

It’s always interesting to hear how someone else is fighting for a happy life… especially when they seem to be winning! Unfortunately, today, you’re stuck with me. Just me.

Am I winning? Well, I feel like a winner, that’s for sure, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have some issues I’m working on. So, if you’ve got a few minutes, I’ve got a quick story for you with a big lesson. At least it was for me. I hope it can help you win a few more battles, too. Let’s get to it.

[01:43]  Okay. This story is really embarrassing, but the older I get, the less it seems like it was even me at the center of it. Maybe that’s the proof that I finally learned the lesson I was supposed to learn. It’s deep in my cells now. Ando-48 is not the same guy as Ando-14. Thank God. Whatever the case, here’s the story.

Like I said, this event occurred when I was around 14. I believe I was a freshman in high school. As part of our science class, we were supposed to create an experiment and present it to the class.

Now, I’ve never really had a head for science. Yes, I’m a curious person by nature and I am compelled to look behind the curtains in search of the truth, but once we step into the world of mathematics and equations, I get lost. So, for this assignment, I decided to run an experiment in subliminal suggestion. Not because I’m brilliant, but because I had seen my friend run the same experiment back in grade school and I always thought it was fascinating.

The basic idea was to create a video game—something simple like moving yourself through a maze—and while you were playing the game, a word would be flashed on screen for a split second. The goal was to plant that word in your head without you knowing it. Then, after playing the game, I would ask a series of questions, each with multiple answers, including the words that I had flashed, just to see if those words were chosen more frequently than the words that were not flashed.

Interesting, right? I guess the idea was used most famously in movie theaters, where pictures of popcorn and soda flashed during the movie to influence people to get up and go buy more. Does that really work? That’s what I wanted to find out. Or at least that’s what I wanted to do to get a good grade.

So, I set up the experiment and ran it with 30 or 40 volunteers. To be honest, I don’t even remember what the results were, but I’m pretty sure in my small sample group, there was a slight influence in thinking. I’m pretty sure because, to my surprise, my science teacher recommended that I participate in a citywide science fair where I could present my findings.

AGH! Dude, I’m just looking for a B+ here, not the cover of Time magazine. I was conflicted. On the one hand, like I said, I don’t have a head for science, but on the other hand, I love an audience. So, ultimately, like a moth to a flame, I chose to step into the spotlight and compete.

When I showed up to the hall for the competition, I was feeling pretty confident. I got there early to set up and I thought my posterboards and technical display looked pretty impressive.

For the record, the technical display included a Texas Instruments TI-99/4A computer. You remember those? They were so primitive that even an artsy guy like me could write code to create a maze. But my confidence was tested as the other contestants arrived and started setting up their presentations.

Within minutes, it looked like I was standing in Mission Control at NASA. These whiz kids slapped up whiteboards with equations and diagrams that could’ve been upside-down for all I know. And apparently, there were other computers available at the time… I just didn’t know about them.

Yep—these kids were real scientists. For them, this competition was just a stepping stone to some statewide, or countrywide, worldwide competition. One of these brainiacs would probably end up winning the Nobel Prize. Me? I was just happy to be put on a tie and play Johnny Carson for a few minutes. But there we were.

Now, I’m happy to tell you that my presentation was not a disaster. Far from it. My showbiz instincts served me very well. I smiled, threw in a joke or two… I was like Wayne Newton working a night club.

The judges—three serious-looking adults with clipboards and suit jackets—seemed to relax the more I talked. They even smiled here and there. I could feel the momentum building. Hey—maybe I do belong in the world of science after all.

By the time I finished my presentation, I was ready to accept the gold medal. I just needed to charm my way through the Q&A and it was mine. Sorry, brainiacs. I fielded the first couple of questions with ease. I was no longer talking like a kid with a baking soda volcano up there, I looked at the judges as if we were peers. Colleagues.

Until.

Yes, until. Until the last question. The one I didn’t see coming.

One of the judges asked me if there was a separate part of the brain that processed subliminal stimuli. I had no idea. But that didn’t stop me from answering immediately. I looked him right in the eye with an omniscient smile and declared that, yes, there was a separate piece of the brain, a little darker than the areas surrounding it, in fact, that processed subliminal stimuli.

Wait—what? Is that true?

No. Not at all. I was so excited being a science star, that I just blurted out the first thing that popped into my head.

No. I didn’t blurt it out, actually. Like I said, I declared it with confidence. Somehow, it felt true to me. YIKES!

I really don’t even need to finish this story, do I? Obviously, as soon as the great lie about the brain fell off my lips, I could see the judge who asked the question tilt his head. He knew instantly that I was a poser who didn’t belong there. His face fell into a polite smirk as he tapped his pen on his clipboard.

That one lie was all he needed to discredit my entire experiment. I mean, if I can so casually make up facts about the brain, who’s to say I didn’t make up the whole experiment? The presentation was a bust.

What can I say? I was a kid. An immature and insecure kid.

My ego didn’t care about facts. My ego didn’t care about science. My ego just wanted to win.

The funny thing is I truly think I would’ve won the gold medal that day if I had just said three simple words: “I don’t know.”

Just admit it. Too bad I didn’t understand the power of honesty. Too bad I didn’t understand the difference between showbiz and science. Too bad I didn’t know the difference between an expert and a poser.

Too bad. I lied and I lost.

[09:38]  It’s amazing how fast you can go from feeling like a winner to feeling like a loser. This happens in martial arts all the time. You think you’re kicking butt and then one punch sends you to the floor. But really, it happens just as fast off the mats.

For example, part of my job for the last 12 years has been to hire martial arts instructors. During interviews, candidates tell me they’ve studied this art and that art, or they’ve won this tournament, or earned that rank… and I’m sure what they’re saying really impresses their friends. The friends who don’t do martial arts, I mean. But they usually don’t impress me.

Don’t get me wrong—they may be very nice people, but many of them are as deluded as I was back at the science competition. They have no idea how easy it is for me to see their actual skill level. One little gesture, one offhand remark and their cover is blown.

And don’t get me started about students. I’ll ask students if they know a particular move, or remember a particular drill, and they’ll give me a cocky, “Yep”. Then I say, “Show me.”

“Uh…show you what? Oh—I thought you meant that other move. Um, you know, I think my way may be a little different. Let me see your way again.”

Ha! Ridiculous.

Why can’t they just say they don’t know? I mean, I’m a teacher! That’s what I’m here for! If you just tell me you don’t know something, I’ll show you! If you didn’t get it the first way I showed you, I’ll find another way. That’s my job! Of course, I know exactly why they won’t say, “I don’t know.” It’s the same reason I didn’t say it.

Yes, I’ve been on both sides of the knowledge fence. Experience on one side, ignorance on the other. And the reason I’m recording this show is because I want you to feel comfortable on either side. If you know something, great. If you don’t know something, great. As long as you’re honest about it and don’t try to fool anybody or fool yourself, you will win.

Which means, if you’re afraid to say, “I don’t know,” please, believe me—you’re losing.

Sure, you may trick the people who know less than you do, but you’re not tricking the people who know more than you. You’re not tricking the experts. And those are the people who can help you. Those are the people who will make you better.

That’s why I never want you to be embarrassed to say, “I don’t know.” On the contrary, I want you to be proud of yourself. Admitting that you have more to learn requires honesty, humility, and courage. Saying, “I don’t know,” lets everyone know that you’d rather get things right than just look cool. Saying, “I don’t know,” is the first step in emptying your cup. It opens the gates for new information and new experience to come in.

Consider this—if you pretend to know something you don’t, you will always end up looking like a fool.

You’re either going to look like a fool in the moment you pretend, because the expert knows you’re pretending immediately, or you’re going to look like a fool down the road when you’re eventually called upon to demonstrate what you’ve been pretending to be able to do.

Of course, when you pretend to know something, you’re hoping that the person you’re talking to is an idiot and that you’ll never be asked to demonstrate anything. Talk about pressure! Why would you stress yourself out when instead, you could simply say, “I don’t know”?

Trust me on this. My ego didn’t just burn me at the science fair, it locked me into a state of stress well into my 20’s. My ego said I had to be perfect… or at least appear to be. My ego said I had to know everything… or at least appear to. Ugh. What a miserable, exhausting way to live.

For example, for many years, I had a phobia—if that’s psychologically possible—of making phone calls. Even if it was just to find out what time a restaurant opened. Even if it was just to get directions.

For me, calling someone on the phone meant I didn’t know something. I needed something. And my ego couldn’t stand that. One time—this is how ridiculous it got—I was in charge of a school project, a fundraiser. When the deadline came, I had no information. So, I made up a story about a fire in my house that burned up all my notes. MADNESS!

Thankfully, I was just working for the Student Council at the time, and not the Department of Defense, but I have no doubt there are people out there in every walk of life who are still afraid of asking for information or assistance. People under stress every day of their lives, lying in one way or another, to hide their fear of being revealed as ignorant or incompetent. People whose inability to say, “I don’t know,” might lead to catastrophic consequences.

I hope that’s not you. If you refuse to admit when you don’t know something, or if you’re afraid to ask someone to teach you something, you’re not only failing to move forward in life, you’re more likely sliding backwards.

Remember this—it’s the fear of being judged as incompetent that makes us incompetent. It’s the fear of asking questions that keeps us from getting answers.

Don’t let any fear lock you up or hold you back. Say, “I don’t know,” and give yourself some relief.

[16:07]  Okay. Let’s shift gears for a minute here. At the risk of sounding pretentious—or more pretentious, I suppose—I’d like to talk about Socrates. Back when I was studying—ahem—Philosophy in college, I was introduced to the “Socratic paradox”. This is not to be confused with “Socratic irony”.

“Socratic irony” is the debate strategy of pretending to know nothing just to get someone else to reveal what they know, so you can then take it apart and disprove it. Hey! That’s another reason why saying, “I don’t know,” is a smart idea. By presenting yourself as a beginner, you invite others to show off a little, which then gives you a chance to secretly analyze them.

You can use the same strategy when you spar or roll with someone you don’t know. I see advanced belts do this all the time. They say GO, but then they don’t do anything. They give their partner time and space to do whatever they want just so they can get an idea of how they fight. Once they know who they’re dealing with, well, then they can chose their strategy and attack with more efficiency.

How about that? We already said that admitting to be ignorant is smart. Well, it turns out that even pretending to be ignorant is smart. It’s a whole lot smarter than pretending to know something, that’s for sure.

Anyway, back to Socrates. Even though it may be apocryphal, tradition holds that Socrates, the legendary Greek philosopher, once said, “The only thing I know is that I know nothing.” Of course, Socrates knew something. He was a well-known philosopher and social critic. In fact, his arguments eventually led to his execution, so clearly, his claim to know nothing is a paradox. Or a straight-up lie.

Now, I’m a fan of the Socratic paradox. Beginning a discussion or a venture with a clean slate, an empty cup, allows you to learn and grow. Even if you do know something, if you move through life as if you know nothing, you’ll be more likely to gain all the tools you need to get where you want to go.

Still, if you always pretend that you know nothing, that’s a little goofy, isn’t it? Only a baby knows nothing. What’s the point of gaining information and experience if you just discredit it and throw it away? So, how about this? What if we say…

“The only thing I know is that I don’t know everything.”

That would be my philosophy. You don’t need the paradox. Call it “Anodic ignorance.” How’s that for pretentious? Yes, I admit that I know some things, but I also admit that I don’t know everything.

Here’s an example. If you ask me if I know how to throw a punch, believe it or not, I might say, “I don’t know.” My brother and I joke about this all the time. Even though we’ve been throwing punches for a long time, we agree that it never feels like we quite have it yet.

Sure, I can hit a bag or punch you in the gut with a pretty good shot, I can even show you a couple of different ways to do it, but does that mean I really know how to punch? Honestly, some days, it feels like I know nothing.

But I sure know a lot more than I did when I was a kid. I sure know a lot more than I did 20 years ago. Oddly enough, I even know more today than I did a month ago. Heck—even over the weekend, I was looking at punches from a different perspective and experimenting with my technique. And there’s a good chance that I’m going to find something tomorrow that I didn’t know today, either from practicing, or getting a tip, or observing how someone else is punching… it’s endless!

Which I suppose is a curse. I joke with my students that there’s good news and bad news about the martial arts.

The good news is there’s always more to learn. The bad news is there’s always more to learn.

The trick is to not let the fact that you’re always learning take away from the confidence you should have from what you’ve already learned. It’s easy to fall into a permanent state of humility, where you just think you suck and don’t know anything… forever. That attitude may be great for learning, but it’s terrible for fighting. Or attacking any goal in your life.

At some point, you have to believe in what you know and what you can do, and put it into action. Ready or not. The goal, as always, is to seek the balance between experience and ignorance. Confidence and humility.

[21:15]  Okay. Question: When was the last time you said, “I don’t know”? If you’re thinking, “I don’t know,” right now, hey—good for you! That counts.

Whatever the case, my challenge to you is very simple—the next time you aren’t sure about something, admit it. Just say, “I don’t know.” But don’t stop there. Honesty is laudable, but I wouldn’t be proud of my honest ignorance for too long.

So, instead of just saying, “I don’t know,” try saying, “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Isn’t that better?

But hang on—that’s still not good enough. Saying that you’re going to find out means you’ll do it some other time, which means it may never get done or you’ll forget about it entirely. But we can fix that. The next time you’re not sure about something, I want you to say, “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out right now.”

Ah ha! Now we’re talking! “I don’t know.” That’s humility. “But I’m going to find out.” That’s ambition. “Right now.” That’s determination. All together, that’s a winning formula.

Someone who says that is the kind of person I want to be. A person that I want on my team. The other guy? The poser? Well, I’d rather see him shot out of a canon.

So, be the student who says I don’t know. Be the teacher who says I don’t know. Be the leader who says I don’t know, but I’m going to find out right now.

Remember—there is no shame in admitting that you don’t know something, but there is shame—deep shame—in pretending you do.

And even if you feel the need today to pretend to know something, and even if you fool everybody around you, I beg you—don’t fool yourself. Don’t be like 14-year-old Ando. Give yourself a break. You don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to stress out trying to impress people with what you know.

The truth is the people you need to meet, the people who can help you get more out of life, are more impressed by what you tell them you don’t know than what you tell them you do know.

So, don’t fake it. Don’t hide. Don’t lie. And certainly don’t say you didn’t know that saying, “I don’t know,” is one of the secrets to building a happy life, because I just told you.

Now you know.

That’s it! Empty your cup then go fill it up. And keep that going until you die. Hey—if you liked the show today, please share the link with a friend who might need to hear it. Thank you for doing that.

Until next time, smiles up, my friend. Let your smile be your shield and your sword. Keep fighting for a happy life.