By John Draeger, PhD  (SUNY Buffalo State)

As a political philosopher, I worry about our deeply divided world and the need to find the wherewithal to interact with those with whom we disagree. I am interested in the role humility plays in civil discourse. I argue that being humble, or being aware that we don’t have all the answers, can open the door to more respectful dealings with others and offer the prospect of more productive dialogue. Being humble isn’t easy, but metacognition can help us stay on track. It can, for example, encourage us to check-in on whether we’re actually listening to what others have to say or lapsing into dismissive name-calling.

Metacognition focuses attention on a process in hopes of evaluating what’s working, what’s not, and what needs adjusting. In this case, metacognition can help us check-in on the process of being humble. If humility involves understanding the ways we can be prone to bias, prejudice, and blind spots, then metacognition can help us identify those times when we lapse into those errors and make the appropriate adjustments. This post explores the relationship between metacognition and humility.

Humility

There’s a long tradition in philosophy on character traits, such as humility, that promote good living. However, I’ve recently become interested in the work of social psychologist Daryl Van Tongeren (2022). If you’ve come across the vast literature on problematic ways of thinking (such as bias, self-deception, and blind spots) and wondered how to avoid such things, then scholars like Van Tongeren are exploring humility as a potential answer.

Van Tongeren highlights the fact that humble people are open to what they don’t know. They learn to tolerate uncertainty and they are on the lookout for times when they are in the grips of illusory (or mistaken) forms of thinking. They also accepts their own strengths. Humility, as an approach to the world, prompts us to look inwards to assess what we might be missing instead of quickly concluding that someone else is wrong, foolish, or worse.

Without humility, relationships can degenerate into people selfishly putting their own needs over others, being insecure and distrustful, and being toxically defensive at the mere whiff of feedback. Humility, in contrast, invites a spirit of openness to change, to feedback, and to the perspectives of others. This offers the prospect of more authentic relationships and greater satisfaction.

An illustration: Road trip anyone?

Suppose you and I are going on a road trip. I happen to be driving and you happen to notice that we seem to be turned around. Humility would nudge me to at least consider that I’m driving in the wrong direction, especially when the GPS, the map, the road signs, and even the sun confirm that we are off course. If humble, then I might respond with a “yup, my bad. Where’s the best place to turn around?” If not, then I might get defensive by questioning the authority of the map, appealing to some “special shortcut” that only I know about, angrily changing the topic of conversation, and then silently (though stubbornly) driving on. If we find ourselves in this situation, then humility, as a process of openness towards the world, has broken down. Enter metacognition.

Metacognition can prompt me to check-in on my process (humility). Why am I behaving this way? Am I being defensive because I am embarrassed? Am I annoyed because I didn’t want to take the trip anyway? Am I flummoxed because I want the trip to go perfectly and I fear that I’ve messed things up? Or am I frustrated because my bad back is acting up and I am so uncomfortable that I can’t think straight or manage anything going wrong? Metacognition reminds me to check-in on whether I’m being open to evidence or being hijacked by some other factor. Once alerted, I can recommit to humility and adjust my course.

More generally, metacognition can prompt me to notice that I tend to be open to criticisms about my cooking (because my identity is not tied up with it) and those offered by my close friends (because I trust their judgment). However, feedback from certain family members and any feedback about my teaching has the tendency to put me on edge. In these cases, metacognition can alert me to those contexts where I’m more likely to be humble and those where I’m more likely to be closed.

Making the connection: Humility and metacognition

Neither humility nor metacognition can guarantee good thinking, good feeling, or good action (whatever that means). But humility reminds us to be open to our own foibles and open to the ways we often miss the mark. Metacognition encourages us to check-in on our humility and become aware of how we might get back on track.

Applied to civil discourse, neither humility nor metacognition can solve contentious disagreements in a polarized political environment, but they can help set the stage for progress. A willingness to check-in on why and how we think, feel, and act as we do can position us for dialogue with those with whom we deeply disagree (even those who question our most cherished beliefs about god or human rights). Humility, for example, encourages us to appreciate the points of view of those with whom we disagree and suspend judgment until the evidence is in. Van Tongeren argues that humble people recognize that it is not all about us. Other people know things that we don’t. Others bring experiences to the table that can be hard for us to imagine. Humility holds space for those possibilities. Metacognition reminds us to check-in on our presence in that space. If we’re not there, then an adjustment is in order.

References

Van Tongeren, D. (2022). Humble: Free yourself from the traps of a narcissistic world. The Experiment.