Humility

Reflecting on the landscape of my past mistakes, I’ve noticed a consistent pattern: moments when my ego seized the controls and steered me off course. The abstract concept of “staying humble” sounds straightforward until we’re faced with real-world situations that challenge our self-image. Only when something valuable slips away do we fully grasp what humility might have preserved.

“I don’t know.” Three words that, when spoken genuinely, reveal more wisdom than a thousand confident declarations. Yet they’re among the hardest words for many of us to say. There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance. Few have mastered the art of walking it, and fewer still have the wisdom to know when to step back. People with enough self awareness to recognize their fallibility are–in my experience–a rare breed.

Personal growth requires honest assessment of our blind spots, biases, and behavioral patterns that might be holding us back. In my many conversations with strangers, I’ve recently made a conscious effort to listen more and speak less. This seemingly simple shift has proven remarkably powerful for understanding others and, somewhat surprisingly, myself. People reveal extraordinary depths when given adequate space and your attentive silence. Strategic questions help navigate the conversation, but what truly matters is creating space for others to express themselves—and most people will naturally fill conversational gaps if you allow them.

Okay, the title is clickbait, and I am ashamed of that. So, I’ll give you the bottom line up front: the Dunning-Kruger effect is (in my experience) spot-on, and even though it’s a bit of a pop psychology trope these days, I’ve encountered this effect countless times. There’s a fascinating interplay between Dunning-Kruger and imposter syndrome where these two psychological phenomena can work together in surprisingly complex ways.

When I look back on my life, I’ve made countless mistakes, some more costly than others. One theme I’ve noticed is that in my younger years—my 20s and early 30s—I let my ego grow a little too large. This post serves as a letter to my younger self, containing reflections I wish I had internalized sooner.

Software engineers tend to be smart people. Writing software is hard, and it’s entirely a discipline of exercising your brain cells to write the correct commands to make the computer do what you want it to do. Add in the layers of complexity that come with dealing with humans who want software to do something without necessarily knowing or understanding precisely what they want, and what you end up with is a fairly complicated practice.

It’s easy to preach, but it’s hard to be congruent with whatever philosophies you espouse. Certainly there are people who do as they say they do, but I suspect the majority of those who (like myself) write blog posts on self-help themes don’t practice much of what they preach. Consider fitness gurus. People who tend to be physically fit are often that way not just because they work hard, but because they’ve won the genetic lottery in some way. Research suggests that fitness outcomes are influenced by genetics anywhere from 40-70%, with one twin study finding that genetic factors account for 47-80% of fitness trait variation. My unscientific observations align with this research.

In our current cultural landscape, there’s a fascinating phenomenon worth examining: the growing obsession with self-promotion and personal branding. Perhaps the most visible manifestation is the rise of “influencers”—a term that itself reveals much about our values. What many who adopt this label might not realize is that true influence rarely announces itself so boldly.