The other day, I caught myself thinking about something funny.
We spend so much of our lives being trained to be “right” — at school, at work, even during casual debates with friends.

We build arguments, pile up evidence, defend our positions like knights guarding a castle.
But… no one ever really taught us how to change our minds, right?

And honestly, that’s a bit of a problem.
Because the more convinced we are that we’re right, the less room we leave for anything new to sneak in.
It’s like building a fortress — sure, you’re safe inside… but you also can’t move.

When I really think about it, being “right” is often just an illusion anyway.
We see only fragments of reality, our brains filter everything through ancient survival instincts, and even when we believe we’re objective, biases quietly run the show behind the scenes.

And yet — everywhere I look — people are digging their heels in even harder.
Especially with politics.
Scrolling through social media feels like navigating a battlefield where nobody listens, but everybody shouts.

I get it.
It’s comforting to be certain.
But at the same time, it’s exhausting — being perpetually angry because the “other side” is so “obviously wrong.”
I’ve fallen into that trap myself more times than I can count.

But then I remembered something beautiful about science.
(When it’s done properly, of course.)

Science isn’t about clinging to ideas forever.
It’s about adapting. Correcting.
Fighting hard for what you think is true… until solid evidence proves you wrong — and then, if you’re wise, you shift without shame.

There’s a phrase that sums it up perfectly:
“Strong opinions, lightly held.”

And that got me thinking:
How can I apply this to my own life?

Letting Go: Two Times I Was Forced to Rethink

The first time it really hit me was with basic income.
I was fully on board.
The idea sounded genius: everyone gets a paycheck to cover basic living expenses, robots take the jobs, we all relax a bit more.
I loved it.
I even gave talks about it.

But then, I stumbled across a deep critique by an economist I admire, Nicolas Colin.
He patiently unpacked the history of the welfare state, showed how hard it was to build, and explained how basic income — while trendy — might actually widen inequality and weaken grassroots movements.

His argument wasn’t emotional.
It was calm, precise, devastating.

I didn’t want to believe it at first.
But slowly, the walls cracked.
And then… I changed my mind.

It hurt a little.
(OK, a lot.)
But looking back, I’m glad.
It made my understanding sharper, not weaker.

The second moment was about diversity in tech.
Another topic filled with noise and rage from all sides.

When the controversy exploded, I promised myself:
“I’m going to stay open. I’m going to genuinely consider both sides.”

I read everything.
The famous memo.
The counterarguments.
The furious takes.
The quiet ones.

And after all that…
I still ended up believing what I believed at the start:
That systemic inequality exists.
That it’s not about “who’s naturally better at tech” — it’s about structural barriers built over generations.

But because I had walked through the other side — not just peeked at it — my conviction felt different.
Stronger.
More grounded.

Why It Matters

Holding opinions loosely doesn’t mean you’re flaky or indecisive.
It means you’re brave enough to risk being wrong — and that risk is what opens the door to real growth.

Next time you’re arguing at a party or scrolling through yet another polarizing headline, maybe try it:
Instead of “I’m obviously right,” think,
“Given what I know so far, I lean this way — but if something better comes along, I’m ready to change.”

It’s strange, but when you allow yourself to be wrong, your ideas actually get stronger.
Because they’ve been tested.
Not coddled.

Today, I have strong opinions about many things — but they’re all lightly held:

• Artificial intelligence? A bit overhyped.
• Climate change? Terrifyingly real.
• Migration? Essential for economic vitality.
• Clean energy? The most exciting disruption story of our lifetime.
• Nazis? (Still a big no, thanks.)

The list goes on.

But for each belief, I know:
I could still be wrong.
And that’s not weakness — it’s how you stay alive to the world.

Because at the end of the day…
Understanding isn’t about winning. It’s about evolving.

And isn’t that kind of beautiful?