Perhaps the Most Important Question You Can Ask

As a recent college graduate of only 24, I don’t presume to know how to fix the world. Yes, a lot of problems exist out there: poverty, inequality, terrorism, and (as a friend of mine pointed out to me recently) children starving in Africa and elsewhere. Everyone seems to know these problems exist, but little appears to be done about them. Why? In my limited experience, I find that nothing is ever solved because no one can agree on how best to do it. So rather than spend time coming up with a viable solution, we spend a lot of time…

…bickering. You want a perfect example? Check out your Facebook feed for today. How many people are either championing or demonizing the Supreme Court’s decision to uphold the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (That’s its name, everybody…can we use it)? Or how about the onslaught of debate brought about because of a rainbow-creme Oreo? Or, my favorite example, the stonewalling Congress faced last year with the nation’s financial crisis, because rather than compromise and work toward a solution, our elected representatives took a “my way or the highway” approach. The attitude seems to be that as long as we can find someone to whom we can assign the blame for our problems, a solution is unnecessary because simply having a scapegoat is much easier, and it’s enough.

Now, I admit, I’ve done this a time or two as well. Like I said, I have no idea how to fix some of these problems. However, in the midst of all the ranting about whatever the flavor of the day issue is, I’d like to offer some advice that has served me well over the years: when you find yourself in a debate, discussion, or argument about whatever, take a moment and ask yourself this one question, which as the title suggests, may be the most important question you could ask yourself:

“What if I’m wrong?”

Now I know that seems childish and immature, but allow me to give an example from my life that helps to illustrate the power of this question. I served as a missionary for the LDS Church for two years in Brazil, and if you’ve ever spent time around a group of LDS missionaries, one characteristic becomes very clear very quickly: they often testify how they know what they’re teaching is true. They’ll use a phrase with the words “I know” almost any time they talk to anybody, even if it’s just a quick conversation on a bus. Now, I’m not saying that kind of assurance and confidence is a bad thing – I did it, and I truly meant it…nearly always. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a time or two during those two years where I sat back and thought “what if:” what if the rest of the world is right? what if I’m am a delusional, fanatical, manipulative sophist? What if the LDS faith really is one of the biggest frauds the world has ever seen? Because even those moments with the “still, small voice” could easily be explained as evidence of a deluded and brainwashed psyche.

It was a sobering thought…one that I’m sure many have had before and since. Yet, asking that question – “what if I’m wrong?” – helped me to see something that appears obvious, but has deep and resounding implications: our beliefs, and little else, define who we are. Again, seems obvious, but think for a moment how important that idea is. Our entire identity – who we are, what we want, the choices we make, and the lives we live – is determined by what we believe. And those beliefs have a tendency to invade every aspect of our lives. For example, here in Utah, the majority of people are Republican…why? Because the majority of people in Utah believe more strongly about gay marriage, abortion, and other social issues than anything else, including domestic, foreign, and economic policies. Because of that, for years the people of Utah had a tendency to deem all the decisions of the Republican party as more righteous and holy than any idea from the Democratic party (an attitude that does seem to be shifting in recent years).

What we believe determines everything about our lives, and what’s more, everyone wants what they believe to be right, correct, and/or true. Even those who say “live and let live,” or that “everyone can believe what they want” are guilty of this…if you believe that everyone has a right to their own opinion, guess what? The belief in that right or in the philosophy of “live and let live” is what you want to be true!

So if what we believe to be true defines who we are as people, is it any wonder we so fiercely defend those principles? We’re not just fighting for a cause when we speak up…we’re fighting for our lives! So, obviously, one of the hardest confessions we can make is to admit we might be wrong: we put our entire identity on the line when we do that.

But as John Donne said, “No man is an island.” As much as you may want to cling to your own beliefs and values, guess what? So does the other guy. His identity is as important to him as yours is to you. And when we invalidate others’ beliefs and opinions by establishing ours as more correct and true, we’re not just invalidating their beliefs…we’re invalidating their humanity, because we’re invalidating their human abilities to think, reason, value, and believe. We start to see people as less than people, simply because they have as tenacious of a grip on their beliefs as we may have on ours. If you want to know what the ultimate consequences are of invalidating the humanity of others, look no further than the Third Reich of Germany.

So, again, I invite you to take a second and ask yourself the question: “What if I’m wrong?” You don’t have to renounce your beliefs, your politics, your religion: I think merely considering this question every now and then reminds us that despite how passionately we may believe we are right, almost everyone else believes just as passionately that they are right. And is anyone’s passion any more valid than anyone else’s? As a wise man once said, “Are we not all beggars?”  Maybe, just maybe, if we can start to appreciate the validity of everyone’s ideas and beliefs, we can find a way to fix the world together.

Of course, maybe I’m wrong.

– Blake L.