Admitting what you don’t know

I lie.

I don’t think I do. I don’t think others think I do. But I lie, a lot, in one specific way.

“You’ve heard of nuclear nanoprobes?”

“Sure”

“You’ve heard of The Palatino Owls?”

“Oh yeah, some of their albums…”

Bull.

I don’t have a clue about nuclear nanoprobes or The Palatino Owls (full disclosure: I made them up*). But before I’ve even realised what I’m saying, I’m nodding along. I’m quietly lying. The answer isn’t “sure” — it’s “no”.

We’ve all done it. You pretend to have heard of that band. You pretend you did more than see the name of that technology in a headline. But you know nothing about it.

Why do we have this urge to pretend?

I think there are two broad cases of the “I’ve heard of that” lie, but they both come from a similar insecurity.

1) “I don’t want them to think I’m uncool*”

You’re not familiar with that band. You’re not up to date with that niche. But the cool people are. You want to ‘fit’. You don’t want to seem out of date or off trend.

Heads up: it’s no longer the playground.

2) “I don’t want people to realise I don’t know things”

It’s a terrible irony that the smarter you think the person you’re talking to is, the more chronic the “I’ve heard of that” lie becomes. Not only are you taking a bigger gamble on being caught out, you’re actually missing the best opportunities to learn.

We think experts will think less of us for what we don’t know, or ‘silly’ questions we ask. But chances are, they’re more excited about the opportunity to talk about their favourite subject, with someone genuinely interested in what they have to say. It’s pretty rewarding.

The obligatory New Year-themed conclusion

My new year’s resolution? To stop nodding along, and then, to ask questions instead. We might feel less smart, or ‘on trend’, at first, but by 2017 we’ll all be humming The Palatino Owls. Twit twoo.