Living in a world of half-truths

My father claimed that in medical school he was taught, “Half of what we tell you is wrong; we just don’t know which half.”

I have wondered if he acquired that saying in medical school or somewhere else because I have heard it from many sources. If medical schools actually make this assumption, I would applaud their humility and honesty. A lot of doctors probably forget it if indeed they ever heard it in the first place, but at least it is a part of medical lore — which is more than I can say for any branch of the Christian church.

I wondered what would happen if religious institutions taught the same maxim. I pictured a church bulletin which said on the front, “Half of what we teach here is wrong, but we don’t know which half.” Would people be spurred to actually think deeply about theology and ethics, or would they refuse to sign on for that level of insecurity and doubt? Would interfaith dialogue be changed if everyone was less certain they had The Truth? Would people have more patience with those who have beliefs they consider weird or untenable?

Maybe universities should translate the maxim into Latin and put it on their college crests. That should spur more “critical thinking” which they are forever trying to instill in their students.

What about political campaigns? It is hard to envision a television ad that ends with, “Half of what I am saying is wrong; I approved this ad.” Or how about: Half my proposals are either bad or will never even be attempted. I am not sure which half, and even if I knew, I probably wouldn’t tell you.

I would love to see this statement be required of television investment advisors. I doubt they could claim even half of what they say is good advice, but I would settle for half: Half of the advice you will be given on this show will be wrong. That ought to make people stop and think!

President Barack Obama has to figure out what to do in Afghanistan. He is going to hear a wide range of opinions, each from knowledgeable people who can make a good case, well documented, for their recommendations. Whatever he does will be unpopular with a lot of people but can be easily justified with facts, figures and a clear rationale. I am glad I don’t have to make the decision. Time may tell if it was a good decision, but then we never can know what would have happened if another path had been chosen. Human beings are awful at predicting the future and the consequences of their actions. I think if I were president, I would be put off by advisors who were too cocksure of themselves. There may be a fine line between confidence and arrogance, but I would try to find it. I would want advisors who could entertain the unsettling thought that maybe they were wrong and the even worse thought that maybe their political opponents had a point every now and then. 

Although I hate to admit it, I know that if my great-grandchildren ever think of me at all or know what assumptions I made about how the world is put together, they will find a lot of what I live by to be very entertaining. They will laugh and slap their thighs and wonder how I got along at all. They will pity me, benighted as I was back at the turn of the 21st century. They will think they know so much better, and they will be right — except like all the generations before them, they will assume that they know much more than they do. They will not know which half of what they are being taught is wrong.

Patricia Hunt, of Staunton, is a Mary Baldwin College chaplain.