Over the past couple of weeks, I have become rather sensitive to the use of a particular phrase. It’s one that I not only hear often, but also use on a very regular basis. The phrase is, ‘I don’t know’. This is a simple enough phrase, but what has intrigued me is not only when I hear/say it, but also when I don’t.
There are lots of instances that I can think of when I have legitimately said “I don’t know “, usually when I have not had the faintest clue as to the answer to a question. However, I can also think of times when I have said it when I have known the answer, or at least had an opinion on the subject. It was recalling these times that really fascinated me, and set off my observations.
Sometimes, I think it is a useful phrase when we know that answering will create a problem or feelings that are unwanted. “Have you put the bin out?” may produce a response of “I don’t know “ (although it may be a passive aggressive questions). To admit you haven’t, might cause an argument, or perhaps prompt feelings of guilt or inadequacy, if you haven’t put it out. When used in this way, it might lead to an ‘easy life’, but Freud might suggest it is being used as an ego defence (probably denial). It is often employed when there is a possibility of judgement. It’s a ‘non-answer ‘, and how could anyone possibly judge you if you haven’t actually given an answer? I overheard a group of teenagers asking each other what their favourite colour was. It was amazing the number of “I don’t knows” came forth. One even came in response to one of the group saying, “but you told me it was red last week…” There was a very real avoidance of judgement happening in this group to ensure a sense of belonging and hiding vulnerabilities.
‘I don’t know’ is a very useful diversionary tactic for avoidance, especially of responsibility. Unfortunately, I cannot find the link, but I saw a Facebook post recently from ‘College Humor’ which was a text exchange between a boyfriend and girlfriend about what they wanted for dinner. It was a very similar scenario to ones I have been in. The man asked the other woman (although the roles could easily be reversed) where they wanted to go out to dinner. Although the reply was not ‘I don’t know’ it might as well have been. He suggested having Mexican, to which she replied that she’d had Mexican for lunch. This exchange went on with different suggestions being rejected, until an almost full circle was formed. The woman knew the answer to the question, or at least part of it (where they did not want to eat), but did not want the responsibility of deciding. Again, this may have been for fear of judgement. Personally, I know my answer most of the time would be pizza, and yet my go to response is ‘I don’t know’. I wonder what is so wrong about wanting pizza. It is probably not that there is anything wrong with pizza, but rather what it says about me. Perhaps I should be choosing something more healthy or classy. Maybe I feel guilty because it would be the third time I am having pizza that week. Somehow, this is too hard to say. It’s even difficult often, as in the text exchange to say what I don’t want. How hard would it have been for the woman to text back, “I don’t mind where we eat, but not Mexican, as I had it for lunch”?
Another time when I have noticed the phrase being said is in regards to emotions. In response to the question “how are you?” or “how do you feel?” the answer is often, “I don’t know”. Sometimes, the person being asked truly doesn’t know how they feel, or are unable to express or put into words how they want to respond. I understand this completely, and in counselling this can open up useful discussions around feelings and emotional literacy. On other occasions, I believe, that it is said because sharing the emotion may be difficult, painful or perhaps lead to vulnerability. Again, the phrase is a defensive measure that keeps others out, and our emotions in and probably denied. So, the response of ‘I don’t know is often a protective one, that shields us from judgement, responsibility and complications we would probably rather not have to face.
Those are some of my observations of when I have experienced people using ‘I don’t know’, but what I found equally interesting was when they didn’t. The most common time this occurred for me was when I was standing in front of a classroom full of pupils. I would be asked all manner of questions, most of which I could answer, but there were times where I couldn’t. It is shocking how many times I did not respond with ‘I don’t know’. This would have been honest, and yet I felt compelled to say something else. For example, when asked what the speed of sound through mercury was, the truth would be ‘I don’t know’. Instead, I probably came up with a convoluted explanation of what it might be compared to other situations and plucked a rough figure out of the air. I was probably protecting myself from judgement. As I have suggested in previous posts, unknowns can be scary things. Admitting that there is an unknown can be a frightening prospect. It raises questions about why I don’t know, and what that in turn says about me. Rationally, this is ridiculous. Why would I know the speed of sound in mercury off the top of my head, or indeed need to know? Yet owning up to this lack of knowledge fed into insecurities, worries and fears. Fortunately, I became aware of this tendency and so I was able to say ‘I don’t know perhaps I we can look it up later’ on a far more regular basis. Life is full of questions that we cannot possibly know the answer to, many of which are deeply existential and philosophical. Simply knowing this alone can be difficult to handle and certainly to accept. It is just a shame that our difficult to accept a lack of knowledge of these questions can find its way into all aspects of our life.
There can also be a link to drivers (see previous posts), in that there may be a need in a person to help others which creates an answer when one is not there. For example, I have been witness to someone spending quite some time giving directions to a couple of lost tourists. The problem was that I could tell the person giving directions had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. Rather than saying ‘I don’t know’, they were driven to try and help as best as they could, which involved a lot of imagination and creativity to make up a possible route (and disguise the unknown). Fortunately, the tourists were able to find a nearby map and head off in the right direction.
So what can you take from my musings on ‘I don’t know’. Honestly, I don’t know. I am Ok with that. What the phrase can allow us to do is to become more comfortable with unknowns. The rational scientist in me dislikes unknowns, but likes to find out. However, this is not always possible, and so it is nice to be able to say ‘I don’t know’ and just accept that that is how things are. I don’t need to fill the gap with mythology, theology, fantasy or conspiracy; it is just something I don’t know. I am also now more aware of when I am saying it as a defence, and reflect and explore what that might be about. This is with the understanding that I might not know what it’s about (right now).
I realise that there are some pretty existential aspects only briefly touched on in this post that I cannot hope to give justice to, but perhaps I have stimulated some thinking and further exploration on this front. So I will just leave you with the offer to notice when you say ‘I don’t know’ and when you don’t.
PS: I am aware that I did not state what the speed of sound was in mercury. I wonder how it felt that I did not reveal the answer. Did you not notice, or care? Did it make you curious or uncomfortable? Did you consider looking it up, or actually do it? I will leave you with those questions to consider.
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