When to say, “I don’t know”

We’ve discussed the “safety, health, and welfare” aspect of the NSPE Code of Ethics in several previous blogs. That’s the first fundamental canon of the engineer’s code of ethics. The second is to “perform services only in areas of their competence.” The code further elaborates this as, “Engineers may express publicly technical opinions that are founded upon knowledge of the facts and competence in the subject matter.” That is, one must be careful to express professional opinions only within the limits of one’s knowledge. Beyond that, it’s best either to say, “I don’t know,” or to keep quiet.

In the past year we’ve had many calls to express opinions on complex issues that most of us don’t fully grasp. Somehow everyone was obliged to pontificate on the war in Gaza—as if silence were complicity. Not surprisingly, the discussion generated far more heat—and even violence—than light.

It’s natural to want to say something to fill the silence, or to seem intelligent and engaged. But is it wise? And is silence necessarily complicity?

Professional opinions

Strictly speaking, this fundamental canon applies to engineers publicly expressing professional opinions. It takes real discipline to limit one’s statements to one’s area of expertise and what the evidence says. But it’s essential if you want to build trust and credibility. Being consistent about it makes one a good expert witness or a source for reporters. In the former situation, speaking beyond one’s knowledge could even border on perjury. Better just to say, “I don’t know.”

The same principle applies in other professions. I trust my doctor not only because he’s knowledgeable, but because he readily admits when he doesn’t know. Then he’ll either find out or refer me to someone who knows more. So when he prescribes a treatment or advises me on how to manage symptoms or maintain my health, I believe him. He’s not puffing up his ego; he’s giving me the benefit of his expertise.

Oral exams

John Tenniel illustration of the caucus, Alice in Wonderland
Indeed, she had quite a long argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, and would only say “I’m older than you, and must know better.”—Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland. John Tenniel illustration. Shutterstock image.

PhD programs usually have one or more oral exams the student must pass. At UC Berkeley, we had a qualifying exam after completion of the coursework. We had to pass it to be able to start the research phase. The student’s advisor, two other professors from the major area of emphasis, and one from each of the two minors comprised the examining committee. They’d ask as many questions as necessary to satisfy themselves that the student was capable and prepared to undertake independent research.

With so much at stake, the student might be tempted to answer every question. But the examiners were among the most knowledgeable experts in their respective specialties. That is, they knew far more than I did. I was better off admitting when I didn’t know and then showing how I’d look for the solution. The exam was more about understanding the student’s thought process than to see which facts they could command. Nobody knows everything. The person who is willing to admit it and figure out how to get the answer is better off than the one who just blusters through it. They’re also more trustworthy.

Just saying

I often find myself wishing more people would limit their pronouncements to what they know. How great would it be if we applied this principle more broadly?

My mother was one of the wisest people I ever knew. People often jokingly say that their mother was always right. In my case, I say it with all sincerity. Her secret was that she expressed an opinion only when she knew what she was talking about. Otherwise, she’d just keep quiet. Her wisdom wasn’t only in knowledge or perceptiveness, although she had a good deal of both. Instead, it was in the discipline to refrain from opining on what she didn’t know.

Social media are full of opinions that lack substance, perspective, knowledge, or even the slightest basis in reality. Unfortunately, even everyday communications are getting to be the same. People assume instead of listening or probing for more detail. How much better it would be if we didn’t feel compelled to express an opinion about everything!

Is silence complicity?

Interpreting silence takes considerable judgment. There are many reasons why someone might refrain from speaking. They could be afraid to speak up, or they may lack the authority. Maybe they have nothing further to add to what others have already said. Maybe they want to avoid a confrontation or escalating a volatile situation. Or maybe they want someone else’s foolish or cruel remark to fully sink in. Not everything deserves an answer. In some cases it’s fair to equate silence with complicity or cowardice, but not always.

A good friend of mine is slow to speak because she likes to take time to process what she’s heard others say. When she does say something it’s worth listening to.