It’s Okay to Say, “I Don’t Know”

We live in a world that is consistently, if not constantly, asking for our thoughtful reflections on life. More specifically, we are compelled to engage with issues that pertain largely to prevalent moral and ethical issues that cause divisions amongst those within the church, as well as causing tensions with those outside of it (e.g., presidential politics, health care, economics, etc). Living under an expectation of needing to have the right thing to say at the drop of a hat, and of being well informed at all times, can make you feel like you are drowning. 

These expectations are, perhaps increasingly, becoming like a pressure cooker that is reaching a boiling point within the world of academia. It seems as though there is a growing imperative to have the ability to engage in a discourse on the previously referenced topics, along with a plethora of others, and each side of an argument is dedicated to scathingly scrutinizing the other’s point of view and deeming it to be morally reprehensible. To be disengaged or on the outskirts of such conversations is to be written off as someone who at best, does not care, or at worst, is politically incorrect, ignorant, and lacking in compassion. 

It is possible that much of this pressure is a result of the ceaseless outpouring of information and having news at the tap of a finger. If we have access to the proposed policies of presidential candidates and potential healthcare plans, how could we refrain from having an opinion? It seems that we are always just moments and apps away from the raging arguments of peers on the matters at hand. And the pressure is not unwarranted - many of the issues at hand have the potential a great impact on our lives and futures - for our benefit or detriment. 

The majority of the issues on which we are expected to have an educated opinion have a great depth of detail and contain multiple complex facets.  I believe that we should acquaint ourselves with and educate ourselves on the things that we think matter. Until I am well-read on a subject and can support my reasoning for giving an opinion, I am uncomfortable laying claim to one side of an argument. I would rather admit my indifference while expressing my desire to become better informed on the subject than give lukewarm participation in a movement that I do not have details on.

It seems foolish to verbally commit to a standpoint simply for the sake of having an opinion. Presidential candidates are more than just “leftist” Democrats and “right-wing” Republicans. Economics has more to it than government spending and tax revenue. I am not writing to express my own views or leanings on such moral and ethical issues; rather I hope to give encouragement that admitting one is not educated on a subject, or lacks the level of information necessary to have a well-constructed opinion, is not necessarily an inherently negative place to find oneself. Nor is it an indication that one is being unfaithful to their calling as a Christian voter and citizen.

I find that more and more I am convicted to speak truth in humility concerning this matter: I often am simply not informed or educated enough to have a strong opinion on matters concerning public policy, healthcare, and beyond. I may have a surface knowledge of these subjects, and my framework for thinking about such things certainly informs my knee-jerk reaction to an issue. Our initial convictions toward issues are important, and our fundamental beliefs should certainly underlie an argument that we give for an opinion we possess. But I would argue that these reactions are meant to be lenses through which to view current societal issues. 

We must not rely on the assumption that we can glean all the facts we need from our belief system. While integral to shaping our opinions, our doctrinal leanings do not supply details on current proposals for public policy, economic developments, or plans for the future of healthcare. And while we may have unlimited access to the sources necessary to develop well-educated opinions on these subjects, in an increasingly busy world, it is not always possible to be properly informed at all times. Or perhaps if it is possible, it is not always in the best interest of the individual to expend energy on yet another thing when life is already causing their plate to overflow. 

It is sometimes necessary to choose momentary silence over being up to date on recent amendments to public policies or the outcomes of recent debates. I am not encouraging us towards or advocating for ignorance. Issues such as politics, economics, and healthcare are important.

I do believe that part of being faithful means dedicating time to educating ourselves with the purpose of drawing conclusions and forming opinions that we find to be morally and ethically upright. But as finite humans with limited capacities, there are times when we must choose the amount of information we take in. There are seasons when it is appropriate to acknowledge that the onslaught of information is too much. It is okay, and perhaps in some cases, more faithful, to say “You know what, I don’t really think I’m informed enough to have an opinion on this matter.” In time, by giving ourselves grace and not placing a deadline on being informed, we can move toward a place of being well versed on the issues we find to be most fundamental to how Christ calls us to interact with humanity and with the world around us.