On humility

Hold your convictions firmly enough to act and openly enough to learn. Before a consequential decision, ask what evidence would lead you to reconsider. If the answer is nothing, examine whether you are protecting a judgment or a place for yourself beyond correction.

Make a place for the person who tells you that you are wrong. If you hold authority, their candour may cost them more than your invitation admits. Receive the first unwelcome answer with care. Others will learn from your conduct whether the invitation was real.

Admit uncertainty precisely. Say what you know, what you suspect, and what remains to be learned. You need not dissolve every conviction into doubt. A named uncertainty can be investigated; a concealed one may guide everyone’s work while no one knows to examine it.

When you discover that you have given a wrong direction, go first to those still following it. The explanation of how you came to be mistaken can wait.

Let people improve an idea without pledging allegiance to its maker. If a useful suggestion becomes a contest over who first possessed it, the work may stop while pride is satisfied. Give credit accurately and allow the idea to travel beyond the conditions of your approval.

Beware of making your humility another demand for praise. You can listen without announcing your openness, yield without displaying your sacrifice, and learn without asking the teacher to admire your courage. Some of the room you make for others comes from occupying less of their attention.

Humility does not require you to surrender a well-founded objection because others sound certain. Ask again. Show your reasons. Remain willing to be answered. The quiet person who persists in a necessary question may serve the group better than someone who mistakes easy agreement for modesty.

Remember how much of your strength was given. Someone held you before you could stand. Someone taught you words with which you now disagree with them. You work with knowledge preserved by hands you will never touch. Let that memory temper what you claim for yourself, and guide what you place within another person’s reach.