Beyond Certainty: The Wisdom of Doubt

In a world where conviction is often seen as virtue or intellect, and certainty becomes a barrier against dialogue, I was recently deeply touched by the words of Cardinal Lawrence, in Conclave:

“Certainty is the great enemy of unity. Certainty is the deadly enemy of tolerance. Even Christ was not certain at the end. ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ he cried out in his agony at the ninth hour on the cross. Our faith is a living thing precisely because it walks hand-in-hand with doubt. If there was only certainty and no doubt, there would be no mystery. And therefore, no need for faith.”

I was the child who asked a million questions, who never accepted “because I said so” as sufficient explanation. My curiosity was not born of rebellion, but of genuine wonder. I simply needed to understand. In High School my Sunday school teacher warned me that : ”all this need to know—will drive you to insanity.” 

He was profoundly wrong.

My yearning for knowledge and wisdom has not driven me to madness, but has led me to a fulfilling life of continuous growth and discovery. Each question answered opens up three more, and I have learned to find joy in that endless expansion rather than frustration. The journey of inquiry itself has become sacred ground.

When we claim to have all the answers, we do not become more faithful. Rather, we become more alienated. We erect walls between ourselves and those who question differently. We lose the capacity for empathy and genuine dialogue with those whose experiences have led them down different paths.

Worse still, certainty breeds a God complex. When we believe our understanding is complete, that our interpretation is the only correct one, we unconsciously place ourselves in the position of the Divine. We become judge and jury.

But Lawrence’s wisdom about certainty extends far beyond spirituality. This toxic certainty infects nearly every aspect of modern life, creating divisions and closing minds wherever it takes root.

• In Politics and Social Conversations – Perhaps nowhere is destructive certainty more visible than in our current political landscape. We have sorted ourselves into tribes—too far left or too far right—where certainty becomes a badge of loyalty and questioning becomes betrayal. People may hold strong opinions, feel passionate about their positions, and advocate vigorously for their beliefs. This is healthy. This is democracy. What is not healthy is the inability to even hear alternative perspectives, to imagine that someone who disagrees might have valid reasons for their position. Emotional maturity does not mean abandoning your convictions, it means holding them while remaining open to dialogue.
• In Health and Wellness – Consider how much of what we were taught about health with absolute conviction has been revealed as incomplete or outright false. Throughout history, medicine has been littered with treatments administered with complete confidence that later proved harmful or ineffective. This is not an attack on medicine, but a call for intellectual humility. Good science requires the willingness to update our understanding when new evidence emerges. The researchers who make breakthroughs are often those who questioned what everyone else was certain about.
• In Fashion and Self-Expression – As a stylist, I know and value the different face shapes, body types, and how colour analysis works, but the truth is, no one fits perfectly into a category. My own style shifts from timeless elegance to artistic edge, depending on my mood or where I am going. In my opinion, if we limit ourselves too much, convinced that certain colours or patterns do not work together, we also tend to limit our creativity. Sometimes the most innovative style comes from those willing to break the rules and embrace the uncertainty of experimentation. The trick is to understand these rules in order to break them.

True knowledge should never inflate our egos, it should expand our capacity for compassion. Knowledge that puffs us up, that makes us feel superior to others, has been corrupted into mere information hoarding. Real wisdom humbles us even as it enlightens us.

This is why respect must flow in all directions. If we seek to be treated with dignity and consideration, we must extend that same treatment to others – especially, to those with whom we disagree.

The ultimate test of tolerance lies in the following: Can you give credit to an opponent? Can you acknowledge what someone has done right even when you disagree with much of what they stand for? Can you resist the tribal instinct to reject everything associated with “the other side”?

This kind of mature tolerance requires us to see propaganda for what it is. It demands we recognise that our preferred news sources, our chosen communities, our ideological allies are all capable of distortion and emotional manipulation. True tolerance is not naively accepting everything; it is having the discernment to separate information, regardless of where it originates.

Those who struggle with imposter syndrome reveal the hidden wisdom of doubt. They question whether they truly belong, whether they are genuinely qualified, whether they know enough, and yet are often the ones doing the most thoughtful, competent work. Meanwhile, the “know-it-all” types, who radiate unwavering confidence are frequently the ones who should be questioning themselves more, as their confidence is not earned through mastery, but often born from fear and lack of self-esteem.

In exploring our very human struggle to find meaning in an uncertain world, we arrive at an uncomfortable truth: certainty feels safe, but it is a false security. Real strength lies in the courage to question, to remain open, to say “I don’t know” or “I might be wrong.” 

My desire to grow as a person has led me to a  realisation: I am not the same person I was a year ago, and if I am doing this right, I will not be the same person a year from now. The most important lesson I have learned comes from the words of composer Michel Legrand: “The more I live, the more I learn. The more I learn, the more I realise, the less I know.” 

But I might be wrong.