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Two and a half thousand years ago, a Greek mathematician named Pythagoras suggested something quietly radical for his time: the Earth might not be flat.

A few hundred years later, Eratosthenes, then head of the great Library of Alexandria, decided to investigate the idea. He had heard that in the city of Syene, to the south, the sun cast no shadow at noon on the summer solstice. Curious, he wondered whether the same would be true in Alexandria.

On June 21st, he hammered a stake into the ground and waited. At noon, it did cast a shadow. Measuring the angle between the stick and the tip of the shadow, he calculated it to be just over seven degrees. He then hired a man to pace the distance between Alexandria and Syene, roughly 800 kilometres.

Seven point two degrees is one-fiftieth of a full circle. Multiply 800 by 50 and you get 40,000 kilometres, astonishingly close to the Earth’s actual circumference.

With nothing more than a stick, a shadow, and curiosity, a man calculated the size of the planet over two thousand years ago.

Fast-forward to February 2020.

After humanity had circumnavigated the globe countless times by sea and air, and after satellites had photographed Earth from space, an American man named Mike Hughes lost his life piloting a homemade rocket. His goal was to prove that the Earth was flat.

Two thousand years of supporting evidence since that first successful determination, and a man was still prepared to forfeit his life for a belief he couldn’t let go of.

### You’re Only Right Until You’re Not

History has a habit of humiliating certainty.

At various points, we were utterly convinced that the world was flat, that drilling holes in people’s skulls could cure mental illness, and that women were less intelligent than men; a belief quietly dismantled by modern data without much ceremony.

Yesterday’s facts are tomorrow’s memes.

I am a strong supporter of the scientific method. I am non-religious, and for a long time I was openly critical of adherence to demonstrably false beliefs or unthinking group behaviour. Accuracy mattered. Evidence mattered. Truth mattered.

Over time, though, I have had to confront a more uncomfortable insight: it does not always matter whether something is objectively true. What often matters is whether it is functionally useful.

In Think Again, Adam Grant explores the idea that the most effective thinkers are not those who defend their ideas most aggressively, but those who are most willing to update them. Intelligence, in this sense, is not about being right; it is about staying flexible.

Science itself does not deal in absolutes. Proper adherence to the scientific method does not produce proof. It produces hypotheses that are well supported until better explanations come along. Science is not the embodiment of truth; it is a process that advances by admitting uncertainty.

Learning to live with that uncertainty, without rushing to defend certainty, is one of the most valuable skills we can develop.

### Faith, Stories, and the Risk of Dogma

Human beings do not cooperate at scale because we are rational. We cooperate because we believe shared stories.

In Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, Yuval Noah Harari explores the idea that humanity’s greatest advantage is not intelligence or physical dominance, but our ability to organise around shared belief. Nations, money, laws, religions, and institutions exist not because they are objectively real, but because enough people collectively agree to treat them as such.

These stories are not necessarily true in a scientific sense. They are functional. They allow millions of strangers to trust one another enough to build complex societies.

Faith, in this sense, is not the absence of evidence. It is a commitment to act in the presence of uncertainty. Science requires it. Leadership requires it. Personal growth requires it.

The danger emerges when faith hardens into dogma.

Dogma is what happens when belief becomes identity and questioning becomes a threat. Evidence is no longer evaluated; it is filtered. Contradictions are not explored; they are explained away. The story no longer serves the group. The group exists to defend the story.

Flat Earth belief is not dangerous because it is wrong. It is dangerous because it is closed. Curiosity has been replaced by certainty. Allegiance matters more than learning.

Mike Hughes did not die because he lacked intelligence or bravery. He died because curiosity had been replaced by the need to be right.

### Belonging Before Belief

At a smaller scale, the same psychological forces that make dogma dangerous also explain why some communities are incredibly effective at helping people change.

Humans do not change in isolation. We change in environments.

CrossFit is often described, half-jokingly, as a cult. In some ways, it is. There are rituals, shared language, identity markers, and a strong sense of belonging. For many people, that is precisely why it works.

People do not get fitter in CrossFit gyms because they have rationally evaluated the optimal training methodology. They get fitter because they feel seen, supported, and expected to show up.

The belief system; this works, we do hard things here, you are one of us, creates a psychological safety net. Confidence grows before competence. Action precedes understanding.

Brené Brown’s work in The Gifts of Imperfection highlights how belonging often precedes courage. People are far more willing to attempt difficult change when they feel emotionally safe.

The belief does not need to be perfect. It just needs to move people in a healthier direction.

### When Useful Beliefs Turn Toxic

Problems arise when communities shift from supporting behaviour to defending ideology.

This is where diet tribes, training arguments, and lifestyle dogma begin to do more harm than good. People argue vehemently over whether a specific eating pattern is “right,” or whether one training philosophy is scientifically superior, as if the goal were to win an abstract debate rather than live better lives.

The question quietly changes from:

Is this helping me? to How do I prove I’m right?

Once ego enters the picture, learning stalls. Adaptability disappears. The belief, which once provided confidence and support, becomes an anchor.

Strong beliefs are not the problem. Inflexible beliefs are.

### Why Certainty Feels So Good

We love black and white. Certainty is comforting.

Right or wrong. Good or evil. Success or failure. Us versus them.

In Thinking, Fast and Slow, Daniel Kahneman explains why the human brain is so uncomfortable with ambiguity. Faced with uncertainty, we instinctively reach for confident explanations, even when they are wrong, because certainty feels safer than doubt.

From an evolutionary perspective, a bad answer often feels better than no answer at all.

Grey is uncomfortable. Grey requires humility. Grey admits complexity.

Life, however, does not happen in absolutes. It happens in nuance, context, and contradiction.

### Emotions Beat Facts Every Time

I once had house guests staying over, and at one point a couple found themselves in a heated debate.

“Maybe I’m just not explaining myself properly,” the husband said, frustrated.

“I understand you perfectly,” his wife replied. “I just don’t agree with you.”

Understanding and agreement are not the same thing.

When we attack someone’s beliefs, we do not open them up. We activate their defences. Pride and identity get involved. The more threatened a person feels, the more tightly they cling to the belief under attack.

Human beings are also astonishingly capable of spite. Many people will knowingly accept being wrong if it prevents you from being right.

### Coaching: Care Before Knowledge

I have a personal training textbook over a thousand pages long. It details every exercise you are likely to attempt, the names of every bone and muscle, how to calculate body fat, and basal metabolic rate.

If I cannot make a client like me, it might as well be a cupcake recipe book.

As a coach, the same principle applies. If I want to help someone make a difficult change, it is not enough to tell them what the evidence says. They can Google that.

In The Coaching Habit, Michael Bungay Stanier argues that the urge to fix people often serves the coach’s ego more than the client’s growth. Change happens not when people are told what to do, but when they feel safe enough to think for themselves.

What matters far more than being right is being trusted.

When people feel genuinely cared for, they assign themselves greater value. Self-respect grows. Confidence follows. Change becomes possible.

Information alone rarely transforms behaviour. Relationship does.

### Beliefs as Tools, Not Truths

In coaching, beliefs are not sacred. They are provisional tools.

If a belief helps someone train consistently, eat more mindfully, or rebuild trust in themselves, it is useful, even if it is not universally optimal or philosophically airtight.

Carol Dweck’s work in Mindset shows how growth stalls when identity becomes tied to being right rather than being curious. When learning becomes about self-protection instead of exploration, uncertainty feels like a threat.

The danger is not adopting strong beliefs. The danger is refusing to release them when they stop serving us.

The moment a belief requires ego to defend it, it has already begun to cost more than it gives.

### Choosing Outcomes Over Ego

Being right feels good. It reinforces identity. It gives us a sense of control.

The price, however, can be high.

It can cost relationships, trust, influence, and growth.

Almost no one’s life has ever been improved by being publicly proven wrong. Many lives, though, have been changed by feeling understood, supported, and safe enough to reconsider their own assumptions.

Across psychology, anthropology, and behavioural science, the pattern is remarkably consistent: growth slows not when we lack information, but when certainty becomes something we feel obliged to defend.

There are many examples of times when we can be “right,” but it’s not right to say so - or at least, not effective to do so. There is a space between “I disagree” and “I will prove you wrong.”

To effectively help someone, including yourself, find it and get comfortable there.

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