We have all been there. You say something you did not mean to say, make a decision that does not pan out, or take a stance that, in hindsight, was misguided. In that moment, you are given a choice: own up to the mistake or dig in your heels and double down.
Too many people, especially in today’s high-stakes, image-conscious culture, choose the latter. Admitting you’re wrong can feel like admitting you’re weak. But the truth is just the opposite: there’s real strength in saying, “I got that one wrong.”
Unfortunately, doubling down has become something of a national pastime. In politics, it happens constantly. A candidate makes a false claim. The evidence piles up. And instead of correcting their course of action, they insist, louder and with more conviction, that they were right all along. Facts are brushed aside, critics labeled enemies, and we all move further away from honest discourse.
But it’s not just politicians. We see it at work, in families, on social media—wherever pride and ego get in the way of progress.
Take a moment to think of a time when someone apologized to you sincerely. Not a non-apology like “I am sorry if you were offended,” but a real, honest admission of wrongdoing. It probably didn’t make you think less of them. In fact, it likely had the opposite effect. You respected them more for their humility, for their maturity, and for their willingness to do the hard thing.
Now think of a time someone doubled down when they were clearly in the wrong. How did that feel? Frustrating? Disrespectful? Maybe even infuriating?
That is because doubling down when one is wrong does not just damage credibility, but it erodes trust. People start to question your judgment. Eventually, they may stop listening to you altogether.
This is not just a matter of personal integrity, but it is also a smart strategy. Correcting a mistake early often limits the damage. It gives others a chance to forgive and move on. But the longer you dig in, the more effort it takes to undo the harm later.
Think about the stories we love. Think about the movies and books where the hero is not perfect, but instead learns from their mistakes. We root for them not because they always make the right decision, but because they grow. That movement, from flawed to better, is the essence of what makes a character compelling.
The same applies to real life.
Admitting you are wrong also opens the door for learning. It forces you to reevaluate what you thought you knew. That is not failure; it is called growth. It is how we become wiser, more empathetic, more effective in everything we do.
Still, the fear of losing face is powerful. Especially for leaders. In public life, some people have built entire identities on being “tough,” on “never backing down.” But that kind of posture only works until it doesn’t anymore, when the reality catches up, and the refusal to admit error leads to consequences that could have been avoided.
We should stop rewarding that kind of behavior. Strength is not about stubbornness. It is about adaptability. It is about resilience. And resilience means being able to say: “I was wrong, and here is what I have learned.”
Some of the best leaders I have ever known whether in business, within the government, or everyday community life, are people who lead with humility. They are the ones who ask questions instead of pretending they have all the answers. They are the ones who do not use snide, disparaging nicknames when referencing well-respected, public figures. They are the ones who are not afraid to change course when new information comes in. They recognize that does not make them weak. It makes them trustworthy. We would all do well to follow their example.
Of course, this is easier said than done. Pride is a powerful force. So is fear. Fear of embarrassment, fear of being seen as incompetent, fear of losing ground. But the longer I live, the more I see that the people who can acknowledge their missteps are the ones who earn lasting respect.
So, the next time you are tempted to double down, whether it is in an argument with a friend, a workplace decision, or even a parenting moment, I suggest you pause for just a moment. Ask yourself what matters more: being right or getting it right?
Mistakes are inevitable. How we handle them is optional. Own it. Learn from it, and move forward better than before.
