Before I dedicated myself to scholarship, I used to take random classes at the community college at the behest of my Dad, and while he wanted me to be an engineer, I found myself most drawn to the social sciences. I took several anthropology courses, which I barely remember at this point, but during my time there I was exposed to a concept that I think has affected me more than any other.

The professor spoke about something called Epistemology, the study of knowledge, or as she stated it "how do you know what you know?"

I'm not sure about anyone else, but it was the first time in my life that question had ever been asked to me. Now, epistemology is a complex field of heavy philosophy, which I haven't actually spent a lot of time formally studying (I know, it's a surprise to me, too) but seeing as how I spend so much time in my own head, it seems a fair question to ask how all this stuff got here.

I had spent my entire life up until that point mostly just accumulating information, without it being sorted in any real way. Most of the time I just wanted people to think I was smart to fill some hole that had been eaten in my self-esteem, which worked about as well as trying to patch a boat at sea with sand. And it turns out people are generally impressed by any expression of random information, because they weren't any better at evaluating it than I was.

This was in the era before the modern meme dominated the intellectual landscape (such as it is), but I mostly had formed my worldview through anecdotes and soundbytes. Even if most of my primary sources were generally reliable, I did not have anything resembling intellectual independence. There were things I believed that are just obviously terrible and toxic that were never properly evaluated because I didn't know you could, let alone how. Just being exposed to the concept was the first time I started actually tinkering around in my head.

The transformation was absolutely not overnight. I would say it was years before one could tell anything different about the way I thought. But I did start asking myself about things "how do I know that" whenever I had an idea.

Without derailing too far into my own psychological issues, I eventually came to the realization two years later that I knew very little. My academic rigor was nonexistent, my ability to absorb information was stifled, and I was hopelessly dependent on previous victories, fleeting as they were. It was a disheartening realization, but the only person I could blame for standing in my way was me.

I was ashamed of my ignorance, and saddened by the scope of it, which seemed vast. I had placed so much of my own personal value on my apparent intelligence, but it was ultimately a worthless facade.

And around then, I discovered that great quote by Socrates: "I know that I know nothing."

Please understand that I am not understating anything when I say that reading that was absolutely sublime. I found myself no longer constrained by my ignorance, but instead liberated by it.

I knew nothing! But all the knowledge of the world was there at my fingertips, I only had to ask the question "what do I want to know?" And I did, oh believe me I did.

There are many reasons I chose to pursue political science, but among them was that it touched on a little of everything. Through political science I was able to have exposure to philosophy, psychology, economics, mathematics, just about everything under the sun. I wanted to know it all.

It began with the acceptance that I know practically nothing, and abandoning the shame of that. It was through that idea that I could then actually begin to know everything.

Of course, I was still not finished with my journey. After all, I accepted I knew nothing so that I could know everything and thus fulfill that desire that I had to be "smart." I've found in the years since that you cannot abandon shame if you hold your grip so tightly on pride.

I try to remember that, how I still know nothing. It's easy to get complacent, especially with how generally comfortable my life can be.

I've heard it said that teaching is a way to master your learning, and in becoming a teacher in my various ramblings I sometimes forget that the goal still is to learn. I learn by making mistakes, by listening to those I speak to, and I hold myself back by drifting into that old habit of wanting to be listened to, of wanting to be someone that you should listen to.

I'll probably always be stuck in that cycle, of learning and forgetting and relearning. Though I do not believe it to be a perfect circle of endless repetition, but more a spiral descending further toward whatever it is I'm pushing myself toward.

I find myself lost in these thoughts due to the current intellectual landscape of my civilization. When I was younger, I fancied myself as a one-of-a-kind mind, one whose inherent specialness was guaranteed a place of honor in a world of fools. I would constantly assure myself that there are no others like me. The unfortunate truth is there are entirely too many like me, individuals who are trying to fill some void with something this civilization claims to value, and caring little for the quality of the filling.

How many among us value knowing nothing? Socrates himself was a controversial figure in his time, which is my polite way of saying he was a gigantic asshole. Our civilization isn't going to pat us on the head for the realization that we're stupid, and in fact trains us to abuse the notion out of ourselves, no matter how self-destructive our so called knowledge is to ourselves.

No, the tragedy is that most people are like me: self-satisfied and seeking security via the path of least resistance. They seek to feel smart, and they will revel in their ignorance so long as it can have a prestigious label attached to it.

It isn't undefeatable though, but it is something that leaves us powerless. The only solution I ever found was to ask myself a question "how do I know what I know" and answer earnestly. For me, the answer was a resounding "not well" and the solution was to listen.

So I'm just left assuring the world that ignorance is nothing to be ashamed of, because you can't know what you don't know. It's only shameful if you stay there.

I take heart in how much I don't know.