Life is inherently uncertain, and if you have difficulty dealing with that, you will have difficulty dealing with life.—Michael J. Dugas, quoted in Uncertainty by Maggie Jackson
We love certainty. We admire leaders, especially during complex times, who speak with unwavering confidence. A politician who looks uncertain is a politician who most likely won’t win. Most of us prefer leaders who are steadfast, even when they are wrong.
We also like to feel certain. We like to give advice, to feel in control, and to get the status that comes with being the expert. And we don’t like feeling uncertain. As Maggie Jackson explains in her book Uncertain (2023), when people describe how they feel when they are uncertain, they talk about darkness, lostness, unease, or discomfort. “Uncertainty,” Jackson writes, “is not for the faint of heart” (p. xxi).
Certainty feels logical, factual, and true. And yet, the reality is that the feeling of certainty is just that, a feeling. As neurologist Robert A. Burton explains in On Being Certain (2008), certainty is a feeling more similar to other feelings like love or hate than it is to a logical conclusion. And just like love or hate, certainty is a feeling created by neurological processes. We may feel certain, but our certainty may have nothing to do with objective, factual reality.
The feeling that we are certain, even when we are wrong, is often reinforced by unconscious perceptual errors such as confirmation bias, and emotions significantly inhibiting our ability to make good decisions or to learn. It feels right, and it looks right, but it slows down our ability to think and learn. That is why, in many cases, certainty can be a curse.
The impulse for certainty can often hinder communication between instructional leaders and teachers.
The impulse for certainty can often hinder communication between instructional leaders and teachers. After watching a lesson, observers may feel certain they know precisely what a teacher should do to do a better job. When this certainty is combined with the conviction of engaging in morally significant work—like improving students’ lives—the feeling of certainty can become even stronger. Observers may be right, or may be wrong, but when they feel certain and believe they’re acting in students’ best interests, they can find it difficult to entertain perspectives beyond their own. In this way, the curse of certainty can close the door to open, collaborative conversations, which are essential for true growth and improvement.
Jackson suggests we should strive to overcome what I call the curse of certainty by becoming “adaptive experts.” She describes adaptive experts as people who are:
prepared to take charge at any time by stilling the knowing mind and admitting the promise of uncertainty. They are curious, skeptical, and alert even amidst routine. This is the remarkable cognitive skill set that offers a new future for expertise at a time when its very existence is increasingly questioned. (p. 20)
Fortunately, there are steps we can take as instructional leaders to overcome the curse of certainty and become more adaptive experts. Here are five suggestions I’ve developed based on my reading of Burton and Jackson.
1. Acknowledge that certainty is a feeling. Certainty is a sensation produced by brain processes and emotions, not a factual understanding of reality. Once we recognize that feeling certain is not the same as being correct, we open the door to better learning and decision making.
2. Always consider multiple options. Avoid the single-minded way of thinking that focuses on diagnosis and cure. The single-minded approach works for diagnosing measles, but it can easily cut educators off from the best solutions when we are working on complex challenges. “In the thick of a predicament,” Jackson writes, “virtuoso thinkers consider at least one other diagnosis of the situation and then importantly take two or more steps to weigh and assess each possibility” (p. 18).
Good thinkers move through their feelings to consider information that opposes their assumptions.
3. Pay close attention to how you feel about your beliefs. Notice your emotions when you are confronted by information that contradicts your opinions. If contradictions make you uncomfortable, that might be a clue that you are avoiding the truth for the comfort of certainty. Good thinkers move through their feelings to consider information that opposes their assumptions.
4. Consider counterfactuals. By taking seriously ideas that contradict our thinking, we open ourselves to new ideas and learning. Jackson writes, “What-if questions, especially those most contrary to our assumptions, propel us beyond the familiarity that we seek to preserve and expand our budding notion of what’s going on” (p. 23).
5. Use meeting protocols to identify alternative points of view. Two simple protocols can help teams overcome the curse of certainty. Edward de Bono’s “six thinking hats” exercise guides participants to imagine wearing different hats that represent different types of thinking, such as benefits, facts, emotions, creative ideas, potential problems and so forth. Similarly, a devil’s advocate can be tasked with offering a counter argument to prevailing thought, just to provoke broader thinking.
Certainty feels good and looks good, but unquestioning certainty isn’t the best approach for instructional leaders and coaches. To get the best solutions, we should stay curious and embrace intellectual curiosity. Avoiding the curse of certainty will help us learn more and make better solutions. I am—almost—certain of it.
Data Rules: Elevating Teaching with Objective Reflection
Data Rules provides much-needed clarity on how instructional leaders can effectively leverage data.
