Two universal human capacities are transformative superpowers available to everyone: (1) learning from our mistakes and (2) embracing our mortality. If you can make use of these two, even without other spiritual practices, you will step firmly on the path of developing wisdom and truth in your own life.
Learning from Mistakes
In these recent weeks, as I have read countless morally righteous and indignant online commentaries about what has happened in Venezuela and Minneapolis. Most often, these are reports from individuals who were not on the scene and know little about the complexity of what actually happened. In place of knowledge, they have looked at videos made on cell phones or have read accounts from media that predictably distort narratives according to political alliances.
In place of curiosity or interest in other viewpoints or in taking a step back until contradictory narratives have been sifted through, most reports plow through their own “evidence” and omit possibilities for true dialogue. And yet, from robust scientific evidence and research on eye witnessing and perceptual biases, we know very well that human beings are wrong (about facts and meaning) more often than they are right, even when they directly experience an event.
In her 2011 book Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margins of Error journalist Kathryn Schulz shows that human error is the norm, not the exception, especially when our convictions are framed by narratives and reinforced by visual perceptions (like the short videos that appear online from cellphones whose owners we don’t know). Perhaps most unsettling among the evidence for being wrong, Schulze reports that evidence from visual perception feels most convincing when it is most misleading. Illusions, unexpected changes in the visual field, and selective inattentions are constant and feel convincing, even though they are wrong.
At any given moment, a substantial portion of what we “see” is inference based on what we “expect” and is not based on perception at all, especially when we are seeing short video clips. But we can only be corrected when reality pushes back hard because being wrong feels exactly like being right and we rationalize and justify our positions, no matter the facts.
A shocking example in Schultz’s book is that of a woman who is raped by a man she faces during the assault and consciously promises to imprint in her visual memory. Later, she identifies the man in several police line-ups, repeatedly picking the same man, and he is imprisoned as a result of her testimony in a trial by jury. About five years later, DNA evidence from a serial rapist, otherwise arrested, proves the woman to be wrong about her assailant. She is stunned by her error and the steep cost to the innocent man wrongly accused. She is humbled and commits herself to path of checking herself regularly on her perceptions, recognizing not simply to trust what she sees and feels for being the truth.
Here’s a different kind of example of being wrong: recently a friend “apologized” to someone we both know by saying “I apologize for provoking you. I hope you accept my apology.” I commented that the statement sounded more like framing the other person as reactive than an apology, minimizing the harm done by the speaker. The statement also placed a burden on the other person, asking for absolution rather than offering repair, without a commitment to change, going forward. The more I pointed out this was not an actual apology, the more the friend defended it as an apology.
While this example may seem trivial in comparison to misidentifying a rapist, it is typical of the multitude of ways we miss opportunities of seeing and learning from our mistakes. In regard to Venezuela or Minneapolis, if we could remain curious and talk with those who were directly affected or those who see things differently from ourselves, then possibly we could build a more complex view about complex events without immediately blaming someone. As it is, accusations, and repetitive narratives add nothing to wisdom and may make it impossible to discover the truth.
As a therapist, I very often wait to see what emerges from interactions with clients instead of assuming that I know what is happening simply from what I see, hear, feel. What am I looking for? It can be discovered only when it emerges: some kind of truth or wisdom that is unexpected, that is outside my view. As the poet Mary Oliver said, it is the unique role of the human to ask “What does it mean?” And from the research of Kathryn Schulz, we should follow up that question with “How am I wrong?” Let’s assume that we are wrong in most of our first guesses and first moves because they are the habits we have developed for defending ourselves, accompanied by the errors in our perceptions.
Embracing Impermanence and Mortality
How can the knowledge of our impermanence help us in developing non-deceptive wisdom on the path towards truth? We are reminded that we are not gods because we die and, thus, we know that we lack omniscience and omnipotence. We need others in order to find out what is really going on. The Buddha famously commented on the power of awareness of our mortality:
Many do not realize that
We here must die.
For those who realize this,
Quarrels end.
Hmm? The statement is an insight into the fallibility of our ideals, beliefs, points of view and moral righteousness. We are here briefly and know little, and are often wrong. Let’s not blame others when we need the humility of our own ignorance to help us.
Truly, we will fail to become wisely human (to be humane towards self and others) if we believe that we are only right and righteous. Different from the gods, we do not know the bigger picture and we need each other in order to find the truth at all levels of our existence.
Why Super Powers?
The combination of our ability to learn from mistakes and to embrace our mortality and fallibility means that we can become grateful for multiple points of view, for seeing how another’s experiences clarify our own. Then, we face our challenges and tragedies with a “don’t know” attitude in place of a learned omnipotence.
This is human superpower. There is no other mammal, god or machine that learns from its mistakes by recognizing how it is wrong. There is no other being that knows it will die and can stop itself from longing for resources, control, and the defeat of others as a result of this knowledge. No other asks “What does it mean?” followed by “How am I wrong?” These characteristics strengthen our insight and self-awareness in ways that even the gods envy. Let us embrace our superpowers because they mysteriously come from our constraints and limitations. How wonderful!



