How Wrong I Can Be and How God Brings Me Back
This week, I read Bobby Duffy’s book, Why We’re Wrong About Nearly Everything: A Theory of Human Misunderstanding. By doing surveys of public perception compared to statistics on issues, Duffy showed the human propensity to be wrong. Through a vast amount of research, he showed without “massive misinformation campaigns by automated bots… we’re still very wrong.”[1] Reasons for being wrong are internal and external, with “myriad interactions and feedback loops between them, that together create a system of delusion.”[2] Duffy charts internal and external reasons for being wrong as how we think (math and stats, biases, and rational ignorance) and what we’re told (media, social media, politics, our own experience).[3]
Duffy fits into a narrative that I’m learning through this course. I will connect Duffy to the broader story I’m learning about my propensity to be wrong as part of our shared humanity. I want to connect my bend toward being wrong with the classic Christian discipline of confession. This post is less about Duffy and more about how he spurred me toward confession.
Duffy notes that we’ve experienced an information shift where information that aligns with views we already hold is easier to access. When coupled with our human tendency to avoid information where we are likely to disagree, this phenomenon has led to a rise in echo chambers. Duffy writes, “The impact of this information shift may not, therefore, be on our estimates of realities, but how certain we are of our worldview-and how wrong we think others are. In other words, how polarized our perspectives are becoming.”[4]
Echo chambers polarize, making admitting errors harder. Error is fundamentally human, and confession is the human experience God has created for us to live together. Therefore, echo chambers diminish a part of our humanity.
Duffy offers “ten ideas for how we can form more accurate views of the world.”[5] These were good, but I felt that confession was missing.
In the City of God, Augustine wrote, “If I am wrong, I am.”[6] For Augustine, err is human in some way. He is writing about knowing the image of God inside of us and that even if he is wrong, he still exists. Augustine connects knowing the image of God, even as it is in sin and needs redemption, with a knowledge of being wrong.
Scripture tells us to confess our sins. James 5:16 says, “Therefore confess your sins to one another…” and 1 John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” When we confess our sins to one another, God forgives us and cleanses us from all unrighteousness. Whereas sin and error break relationships, confession brings restoration. Our culture struggles with admitting we are wrong; this is made worse by our growing echo chambers.
Admitting their faults was common practice for early Christians. Didache 14:1 lists confession as a norm in Christian worship: “On the day which is the Day of the Lord, gather together for the breaking of the loaf and giving thanks. However, you should first confess your sins so that your sacrifice may be a pure one” [7]. I think the authors of the Didache knew this needed to be stated because it wouldn’t happen otherwise. They knew that shame would prevent people from confessing their sins.
Ambrose of Milan (d. 397) wrote, “Let us then not be ashamed to confess our sins unto the Lord. There is indeed shame when each makes known his sins, but that shame, as it were, plows his land, removes the ever-recurring brambles, prunes the thorns, and gives life to the fruits that he believed were dead.”[8]
Duffy noted that when people were shown that they were wrong, a ‘backfire effect’ would occur, resulting in “people more strongly asserting an incorrect belief that fits with their ideological view”[9]. I want to be the type of person who can hear and listen when I’m wrong. I want to learn and grow. I want to be the type of leader who can foster that in others around me.
I think I am in a state of liminality, where I am learning how easily I can be wrong. Duffy is one author in a line of them who has awakened me to how wrong people can be. He stands with Kahneman and Friedman from this semester, who have taught me to look out for fast thinking and the need for differentiation. In light of this learning, here is how I am approaching my propensity to be wrong.
Confessing when I’m wrong is the plow that clears the brambles and thorns and gives life to my studies. I’m looking forward to seeing how wrong I can be.
[1] Bobby Duffy, Why We’re Wrong About Nearly Everything: A Theory of Human Misunderstanding (New York: Basics Books, 2018), 7.
[2] Duffy, 16.
[3] Duffy, 224.
[4] Duffy, 229.
[5] Duffy, 230–40.
[6] St. Augustine, “City of God, Book 11, Chapter 26,” accessed March 18, 2025, https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/120111.htm.
[7] Thomas O’Loughlin, The Didache: A Window on the Earliest Christians (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2010), 170.
[8] Elliot Ritzema, 300 Quotations for Preachers from the Early Church, Pastorum Series (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2013).
[9] Duffy, Why We’re Won’t About Nearly Everything: A Theory of Human Misunderstanding, 99.
About the Author
Robert Radcliff
Hi! I'm Robert, and I'm seeking to understand who God is calling me to be in my community while helping others do the same. I enjoy reading, training for triathlons, and using exclamation points!8 responses to “How Wrong I Can Be and How God Brings Me Back”
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Robert,
You are not alone in this state of uncertainty! As I contemplate the ‘backfire effect’—especially when it is rooted in an emotional framework—I wonder how we can engage in civil, open conversations. It seems that a fact-based approach is often immediately dismissed.
Darren, that’s a good question. I think it has something to do with humility. How can we grow to enter difficult conversations with the requisite humility. Our culture has often focused on being culturally competent even when we cross cultures, but perhaps we need a cultural humility that begins with acknowledging that because you are made in the image of God there is more to you than I see or understand. What do you think?
Thank you for your reflective post Robert.
I am fascinated by the practice of confession of sins among one another. I think, but I would value your thoughts, that outside of the practice of confessing sins ourselves to God and to the person we have hurt, there needs to be some thinking about any group practice. I believe it can be meaningful and profound within a group of people committed to relational, intentional discipleship over time or those who may never see each other again. But for those who are not committed relationally, it could be dangerous because the sharing of such vulnerable matters can become a time bomb for the misuse of power?
I think I have seen this misused so badly by those who are harbouring dangerous, manipulative strategy, where they appear humble whilst scheming for the vulnerable to trust them. I may have had some specific experiences that have shaped that anxiety and I acknowledge that. I remember the man who gave me the death threat coming to the front of church and kneeling down quite dramatically among others who came for prayer for healing. It happened the week before he gave me the death threat and started the 5 year harassment and at first i was very cynical and thought it manipulative and then I was quickly horrified that I could be so judgemental. I was whoever correct in my original reaction. I find myself trusting my original hunch and then critically analysing it and then changing my mind, but often my first hunch was correct but sometimes it wasn’t. It is hard being a human is my conclusion!
Betsy, I love the thoughtfulness that you bring with your questions because they challenge the idealism I often bring. I appreciate you and your questions.
I don’t think we disagree or if we do I don’t think it’s much.
When I think about confession in this way, I imagine a relationally committed discipleship community. I think you’re right there is a danger of people abusing it. I think that’s where solid leaders come in to call out those people and seek out repentance.
Robert, you bring up a good point- in this book and the others we have read really lead us to humility. This who remain effective and relevent are always learners, with an openness to grow and change. One never arrives, but continues on the journey with the ability to consistently know and grow. This takes humility and ability to see within the places that are “wrong”. Confession and repentance, both individually and corporately, can release it so light can shine there. It makes me thing of Psalms 139:23, “Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: 24 And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
This is our eternal-ness in the kingdom.
Thanks Jess, there is something unique about the integration of finitude and eternity. We exist in relationship with an infinite God in our finiteness. There is a need for humility and repentance as an expression of our finitude in light of infinite God.
So true!
Robert, I think your summary of Duffy’s book is excellent. I love how you included James 5:16 and 1 John 1:9. It’s a humbling experience that helps us realize we are not perfect and that we all make mistakes. Can you share a personal example in which you thought you were right but then realized you were actually wrong?