On Certainty.

I’m sure of some things, but certain of few things

Insecurity of one’s ideas, much like Impostor’s Syndrome is the battleground on which every knowledge worker plies their trade.

“The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves and wise people so full of doubts.” — Bertrand Russell

Let’s be honest, there are plenty of people — neither fools nor sages — who are certain about their life’s work.

It’s easy to dissect logic, to poke and tug at the Jenga blocks of reason. But certainty is not always logical. Certainty is a feeling which is why sages seldom are certain of anything. When I was younger I was certain of many things. I was sure of the existence of God. I was certain that luck was what hard work looked like to observers.

But what I’ve learned time and time again is that while you can gather the data and stack up the evidence to tip the scales of probability, certainty transcends simply having the information.

Certainty involves that catalytic moment where the quantitative and qualitative worlds collide. It’s a bit like faith.

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” — Hebrews 11:1

Faith and certainty are the heads of the same chimera. The place where hope and conviction intersect with our strategies and forecasts. I know that many things are true, and many more things are probable. I’m just not certain of many things any more.

“I am not young enough to know everything.” — Oscar Wilde