Socrates was called the wisest man in Athens — not because he had all the answers, but because he admitted he didn’t.

That’s a strange kind of wisdom in a world where we’re meant to have opinions on everything. We’re expected to know the answer, make the call, be confident.
The problem is… most of us are winging it.

I’ve been in meetings where I nodded along confidently, secretly hoping no one would notice I had no idea what they were talking about. At home, I’ve been mid-lecture to my kids about why they can’t do something, when halfway through my argument I’ve realised… they have a point. Once my 7-year-old asked why grown-ups get to stay up late, drink coffee, eat chocolate whenever they want, and then have the nerve to tell kids “it’s bad for you.” I had nothing. She’s right. I am a hypocrite.

The older I get, the more I realise how little I know. And that’s not a depressing thought — it’s freeing.
Because the moment you admit you don’t know, you open the door to actually learning.

The Stoics knew this. They valued humility over ego, because ego shuts down growth. The second you think you’ve “got it all figured out,” you stop paying attention. You start coasting. You assume you’ve got nothing left to learn.

Socrates said, “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”
It’s not about walking around clueless. It’s about knowing your limits and being curious enough to push them.

Next time you feel the pressure to have all the answers — pause. Say, “I don’t know.”
It might just be the wisest thing you say all day.

Until next time,

Broden