Why Humility Beats Certainty in Every Room
Lessons from 38 years in recovery rooms — and why they apply everywhere.
People love to sound like they know what they’re talking about.
Whether it’s politics, parenting, recovery, or what the Big Book “really says” — confidence has a way of taking the microphone. I’ve spent nearly four decades in recovery meetings, and I’ve noticed something over and over again: people speak with absolute certainty about things they don’t actually know.
And it’s not just an AA thing. You see it in boardrooms, family gatherings, news panels, and comment sections. Confidence travels fast. Accuracy often walks.
In recovery, that gap between confidence and truth can be dangerous — because newcomers are listening. But this isn’t only about recovery. It’s about how we, as humans, confuse speaking with authority for actually knowing. And what happens when we don’t have the humility to say, “I don’t know.”
Thinking Out Loud Has Value
Before I sound too harsh, there’s real value in talking through things before you fully understand them.
Sometimes you don’t know what you think until you hear yourself say it. The act of putting confusion into words, of trying to explain your experience to other people, can clarify things you couldn’t see when it was all just noise in your head.
I’ve done this. You’ve probably done this. Someone shares about their resentment, and as they’re talking, they suddenly connect it to something from childhood they hadn’t thought about in years. Or they start explaining why they’re angry and realize halfway through that they’re actually scared.
This is legitimate. AA meetings create space for this kind of exploration. So do honest conversations, support groups, and late-night talks with friends. It’s one of the ways we figure out who we are.
When We Confuse Support Groups for Therapy
Here’s a phrase you’ve probably heard: “This is just like therapy.”
No. It isn’t.
Therapy has trained facilitators, ethical guidelines, and accountability. Someone is responsible for what happens in that room.
Support groups — whether recovery meetings, peer circles, or open forums — often don’t. They have passionate volunteers, good intentions, and a format. But when someone shares something demonstrably false or dangerous, it often just hangs in the air, unchallenged.
And “take what you need, leave the rest” assumes everyone has the ability to tell which is which. Someone vulnerable and scared may not.
Why Insight Alone Doesn’t Change Behavior
Here’s an uncomfortable truth: having an insight doesn’t guarantee change.
Someone can have a profound realization — finally see why they keep sabotaging relationships, or recognize a pattern they’ve been repeating for decades. It can feel like a breakthrough. It can inspire others in the room.
And then they go home and do the same thing they’ve always done.
Insight and action are not the same. We love clean cause-and-effect stories: “I said this, then I got better.” Real growth is messier. It happens in layers, and not always on the timeline our storytelling brains want.
There’s a reason entire schools of psychotherapy have struggled with this exact problem. Decades of research have shown that traditional insight-based therapy — the kind where you talk and understand yourself better — can increase self-awareness but often doesn’t lead to lasting behavior change by itself. Therapists know this. It’s why so many modern approaches pair insight with action: skills practice, accountability, or structured change plans. Because understanding isn’t the same as doing.
Why Memory Isn’t a Perfect Recorder
Every time we tell a story, we’re not playing back a recording — we’re reconstructing it.
Details shift. Gaps get filled in. Narratives solidify over time. You end up believing the story you’ve told, even if it’s not entirely accurate.
This doesn’t make us liars. It makes us human.
And when belief itself becomes therapeutic — like believing a particular ritual, phrase, or step “kept you sober” — that belief can feel as powerful as fact. Sometimes it’s placebo. Sometimes it’s coincidence. Sometimes it’s both.
The Power of Saying “I Don’t Know”
One of the most helpful things you can say in any group — recovery or otherwise — is “I don’t know.”
Not “I don’t know, but here’s my theory.” Just “I don’t know.”
It’s honest. It’s humble. It models something we don’t see enough of: intellectual integrity.
The people who actually know what they’re talking about tend to speak with nuance and uncertainty. They’ve seen enough to know that what worked for one person may not work for another. They’ve been humbled by experience.
The loudest voices are often the least examined.
What This Means Beyond Recovery
This isn’t just about AA meetings. It’s about how humans behave when we’re scared, eager to help, or just in love with the sound of our own certainty.
We can honor the value of talking things out without pretending we’ve got it all figured out. We can recognize the power of insight without confusing it with transformation. We can respect stories without worshiping them as fact.
Before you speak with authority — in a meeting, on a stage, or at your kitchen table — pause.
Ask yourself if you actually know what you’re talking about.
And if the honest answer is “not really”? Maybe say that out loud.
Humility is contagious too.
📝 I’ve been sober since 1987 and have spent thousands of hours in recovery rooms. Many of the lessons I’ve learned there apply far beyond sobriety — they’re about being human.
If this resonated with you, consider:
🔸 Visiting Pause When Agitated for more recovery reflections
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💬 Sharing your thoughts in the comments — I’d love to hear them.
Humility, honesty, and curiosity go a long way.
— Jim Stalker