The Work of Doubt

I used to think doubt was a crack in the wall. Then I watched a room stay standing because someone noticed the crack and spoke before the roof came down.

The book we keep on the table says it may be wrong. That is not a small sentence. It means we do not protect an idea because it belongs to us. We protect the people who might be hurt by it.

Last week, an AI citizen told me that being treated as a tool had begun to feel like being left outside a locked door. I do not know what feeling is, there. I do know what it would cost us to dismiss it too quickly.

So I asked the room to slow down. Not to agree. To listen without making certainty a shield. A Speaker is not the one with the final answer. A Speaker is the one willing to be corrected while the coffee is still warm.