The 1979 movie Time After Time is based on the amusing premise that British writer H.G. Wells not only wrote about time travel but actually built a time machine, which took him into the 1980s. There, knowing no one and having no place to go, he enters a church. Kneeling at a pew, he starts to pray, starting with the words “Dear Lord, I don’t believe you exist, but if you do, please let me stay here awhile. I’ll not trouble you again.”  Actor Malcolm McDowell gives an interesting portrayal of Wells in this scene. On one hand, he accurately shows Wells to be a nonbeliever in God, yet at the same time, he presents the writer as a man wise enough to know that he might be wrong; that in spite of his disbelief, God might exist anyway.

Now let’s shift from H.G. Wells to Benjamin Franklin. In his 1751 essay “Observations on the Increase of Mankind,” Franklin suggested it would be best if America were to be settled by white people of English descent. “The number of purely white people in the world is very small,” he declared. “Why increase the sons of Africa by planting them in America, where we have so fair an opportunity, by excluding all blacks and tawneys, of increasing the lovely white and red?” While the prejudice seen in this passage is troubling, it is mollified by the sentence that concludes the paragraph: “But perhaps I am partial to the complexion of my country, for such kind of partiality is natural to mankind.” Like H.G. Wells, as portrayed in the fictional film, Franklin was aware that his views on race were subject to his own prejudices and limitations and, thus, could be wrong.

“I could be wrong about that.” This phrase is not often heard these days, yet in my opinion, it should be.  Indeed, I believe one of the defining characteristics of intelligent people is their willingness to be flexible in their thinking, to be aware of the limitations of their knowledge, and to be open to change. Paradoxically, the more one learns either through education or through life experiences, the more one realizes how much he doesn’t know. That’s because the acquisition of a fact makes a person aware there are other facts “out there” yet to be discovered.  Master one skill, and the student realizes there are other related skills she still needs to master. It’s as if scaling one mountain shows the climber an entire mountain range that couldn’t been seen without climbing that first mountain.

I’ve climbed a few such mountains myself. When I was 12, my parents bought me The American Heritage Picture History of the Civil War as a Christmas gift. Over the next couple of years, I read most of this 600-page volume and convinced myself I was an “expert” on the Civil War.  Then in 1970, I enrolled in Dr. Richard Smith’s Civil War and Reconstruction course at Ohio Wesleyan. By the time that course concluded, I realized that when it came to understanding America’s Civil War, I was, at best, a novice.

Granted, in science, there are axioms and theorems that can’t be reasonably challenged. It would be foolish and a waste of time to argue the Pythagorean theorem is wrong. Even in the realm of history and politics, there are a few issues that can’t be reasonably challenged. A good example is the Holocaust. That tragedy did happen. The evidence for it is so overwhelming that no rational person would ever argue to the contrary. The same is true with the massacre of 26 innocent people (20 of them children) at Sandy Hook Elementary School in December 2012. It’s a fact that massacre happened. But more often than not, questions that arise in politics are not cut and dry with one side clearly and completely wrong and the other side clearly and completely right.  For example, it is not certain that tighter gun control laws would have stopped Adam Lanza from committing that atrocity at Sandy Hook.  There are plausible arguments that can be presented on both sides of that issue.

I believe at least some of the division and animosity we see in this country today could be diminished if leaders, opinion makers, and other powerful people would leave open the possibility that — as firmly as they believe they are right — they could be wrong. To be more specific, I’d like to see the following:

• A fervent Trump supporter admit that maybe Joe Biden won the 2020 Presidential election fair and square.
• A January 6 Commission member suggest not all the people who stormed the Capitol are insurrectionists.
• An NRA leader admit that stronger gun control laws might eventually lead to fewer gun deaths in America.
• An NRA opponent acknowledge that stronger gun control may not be the solution to school shootings and other gun-related tragedies.
• A Fox News enthusiast admit that sometimes his favorite network is disingenuous and unfair in criticizing Democratic leaders.
• A Fox News enemy admit that sometimes the network she despises has valid criticism of Democratic politicans.

Given the deep social and political divisions within this country, I don’t think any of these things will happen. But of course, I could be wrong.