What is Correct?
One of my biggest struggles with small talk, cocktail party banter, and—honestly—a lot of what passes for political discourse today is this: Is what’s being said actually correct? Inaccuracy and misdirection breed doubt. Doubt erodes trust. Trust breaks bridges. Society steps back.
With AI and social media becoming more deeply woven into our lives, I notice fewer people pausing to ask themselves: Is what I’m about to say true? Do I genuinely believe it? What are the consequences of saying it? How will it land with others—and with me?
It’s become a real pet peeve of mine to witness false statements, accusations, misinterpretations, and people speaking with the conviction of authority even when they lack depth or accuracy. It’s also become a pet peeve of my son times 1000—my 17-year-old—who surprises me regularly with his wisdom. He’s gotten quite good at gracefully asking whether what I’m saying is correct, often with a glance and a warm, inquisitive head nod.
Personally, I assume most of what I think is at least partially wrong—or, more gently, that it’s my perception of reality. But I try to be self-aware enough to assess where I fall on the accuracy spectrum, depending on the topic.
Tariffs, for example—I live them daily. I see the impact, calculate the costs, and feel the outcomes. I’m very in touch with that reality (it feels like theft, to be honest). But quantum mechanics? I haven’t touched that in 20 years. At this point, my knowledge is dusty, probably outdated, and certainly not practitioner-level (sadly).
I’ve been reflecting on all this as I read From Strength to Strength by Arthur Brooks. The idea of the “second curve” has really been landing for me—this notion that our peak intellectual output may come in our early 40s. When I talk with older friends, I can sense a quiet anxiety about how fast the world is changing—how quickly “truth” evolves, and how much trust we now have to place in others to help interpret it.
I genuinely enjoy the pursuit of truth—through conversation, research, Google, AI, and sometimes by playing the contrarian. It’s one of my favorite ways to learn. The speed at which we can now find answers is astonishing. I also find it helpful to name the level of uncertainty I feel in any given moment. Just saying it out loud opens the door for nuance and a deeper conversation.
That said, there’s another side to this—something my wife reminds me of often: It’s better to be kind than to be right. I wrestle with that, but I agree. Unless, of course, the person is in a position of power or influence—especially when shaping policy. Then truth and accuracy really matter.
(And yes—sometimes it feels like we’re all watching the courts, hoping for clarity and steadiness.)
When I notice myself arguing mainly to be right, I’m trying to shift my “third eye”—to step back and reframe. I want to practice understanding more than winning.
This is all top of mind because in 18 days I’m headed to Washington, DC to speak at press conferences ahead of the State of the Union—and then attend the State of the Union as a guest of Senator Chuck Schumer. I’m about six parts anxiety and four parts excitement about the opportunity. I don’t want to offend anyone, create an enemy, or put a target on my back. I want to speak my truth—and discuss policy and future scenarios in a way that helps businesses across the United States thrive.
I am aiming for accuracy. Trying to make sure my words land authentically. Always thinking critically, and staying open to understand, not win.
AI is going to test this muscle like never before. We’re going to need to rely on our relationships, the trust we build, and the care we show each other—not just what we see on a screen.
—Ben
