DiBeos

Taking pride in mathematics is a force that is very subtle. It’s something that can drive you forward if you use it to build your personal sense of identity as a mathematician and it’s something that gives you self-confidence. But, if you take it to the extreme, it can become the very thing that actually holds you back from learning and doesn’t let you grow. It’s kind of like walking a fine line. And the danger lies in tilting too much to one side, or to the other. 

I had a friend at university who used to do something very weird. Probably you’ve ever seen someone doing this, but if you have, let us know in the comments. This friend of mine would take classes in math and physics, pass them, and then he would retake them all over again, just so that he could ask tough questions and “test” the professor’s knowledge. So, not to learn something he hadn’t caught for the first time, that wasn’t his point, but just to be able to challenge the professor in front of the whole class. Some of our mutual friends laughed about it, and others even agreed with him, because they thought that what he did was really cool. Personally, I always found it really weird, just a waste of time. But if we think about it: why did he do it? What was his motivation? In my opinion, he just wanted to show off (to others and to himself) how much he knew. How much smarter he was than the professor himself. He did it out of pure pride.

I do think that he was missing a big opportunity by taking the same class again. If you’ve ever had to take the same course twice, the second time around you can catch and understand new things that you might’ve entirely missed the first time. But, in order to catch them, you have to come in with a humble attitude. With a mind that is open to learn and relearn. If you come in, thinking ‘I already know everything about this’, like my friend did, you end up missing out on a great opportunity to refine your knowledge. 

So when someone is too proud of their mathematical abilities, they can fall into this trap of believing they already know everything. And this is intellectual arrogance that is just disguised as mastery. And the worst part is, it’s usually invisible to the person who is experiencing it. They might see themselves as super effective, as someone who is more advanced and way ahead of others. But honestly, all the person ends up doing is stopping themselves from growing.

If we look at it from the other side, of course, having too little pride in yourself and your own abilities, or if we express it better, having too little confidence, can be just as damaging. When you believe that your ideas are probably not as good as someone else’s, you hesitate. When we have a question, we can sometimes tell ourselves that someone else probably already thought of it and dismissed it. Because probably it’s a dumb question anyway right? But when we do that, we tend to miss out on the very moments of where real understanding happens: by trying something, then failing, understanding why you failed, then adjusting, and repeating everything all over again. The person who’s willing to look stupid in front of others, just for the sake of achieving a goal, will always be the most successful person in the room, maybe not in the short term, but in the long term, you can be sure of that.

And of course, I’ve been on that side too. I remember that during university, I almost never asked any questions in class. I was pretty quiet, and I looked at people who raised their hands frequently as annoying, or as though they were trying too hard or something. Looking back, I can clearly see that I was wrong to think like that. I looked down on them, especially if their questions seemed too basic. But deep down, the reason I dismissed them as stupid wasn’t because I really thought they were stupid, but because I didn’t have the courage to do what they were doing, to ask questions like that. And I was afraid of looking stupid myself. So, instead of understanding that about myself, I just looked down on them, because it made me feel better. But by doing that, I missed out on what I now realize were some of the most valuable learning moments. And it wasn’t just about missing out on asking questions to the professor, but I could’ve participated in the conversations that happened because of those questions about mathematics.  

I learned that the healthiest kind of pride in mathematics isn’t about showing off how smart you are, or about being the dominant one in a discussion, or even about feeling good by making others around you feel dumb. And it’s also not about staying silent, and insecure, thinking that you’re somehow less capable than everyone else around you and everyone’s probably smarter anyway. The best kind of pride is the kind someone has when they know they’ve worked really hard to know what they know, when they trust in their own ability to learn even more, but never believing that they’ve “made it”, and that’s it, I know everything now. It’s the kind of person who thinks like this: “I’ve come far, and that’s why I know what I know. But at the same time, I also know how far I still have to go, because there’s still so much I need to learn.” And that’s ok.

Too much pride blinds you, and too little paralyzes you. But if you’re able to find the right balance, you’ll not only learn advanced math once. You’ll be able to keep learning it effectively for the rest of your life.