Confidence Versus Arrogance

I know that some people think I am arrogant. I think I am simply confident. What is the difference between confidence and arrogance? I like this quote: “There is a really great difference between confidence and pride. When you’re confident, it’s like, “I can do this.” But when you’re proud, it’s like “Only I can do this.” (Aakanksha Kesarwani) I know she used “pride” instead of arrogance, but I think that may be the key.

I am confident that I can write a complete sentence that carries thoughtful meaning. Confidence. If I were to say that I can write a better sentence than just about anyone else, I would be arrogant. I can be proud of my mastery of the language without slipping into the false pride that there is no one better. The thing that has caused me to begin questioning this issue is the thought that misplaced confidence, aka ignorance, may be arrogance. If I think I know something to be true about myself, but I am mistaken, does operating in that ignorance make me arrogant? (For more on the cost of ignorance see Well What Do You Know.)

This is all pretty abstract so far, so let me put some meat on the bones. I have filed my own federal and state income taxes since I was eighteen with only a couple exceptions. I have not had major repercussions except for one instance when I was audited and found to have made significant mistakes. Fortunately, I was not found guilty of the intent to evade, but I did have to pay penalties and interest for the five years between my incorrect filings and the date of discovery by audit.

That experience eroded my confidence in my ability to file my own taxes. However, because those filings were for my time as a self-employed business owner and therefore somewhat complicated, I reverted to doing my own filings after I ceased doing business. There were no problems until this year when I discovered that my electronic filing from last year was not accepted. I learned of this problem twelve months after the fact because I tried to obtain a transcript of my 2018 1040 only to learn that none was on record.

My question to the online tax service that I had used was answered: my return was rejected due to an error in the AGI. The problem is that I have no memory or record of them informing me that the filing was rejected last year. If they had sent me such a revelation, I would certainly have done something about it immediately. They claim they did; I claim they did not. They said – I said controversy. Guess who loses on this one!

One final example: I filed a federal tax form for a non-profit I am associated with. Some months after filing, I received a letter stating that a necessary schedule was missing. Reading the explanation, I believed that the error was theirs, not mine. I didn’t think the schedule was necessary. I did some research and follow-up and then forgot about the matter. I was reminded of the problem recently when the State of Michigan contacted me saying that our status with the state was in jeopardy because the federal filing was missing.

I pulled out the letter from the IRS from exactly one year ago and re-read it. I saw that the schedule they required was due after all; I had misread the clause explaining the requirement. This is especially shameful since I claim to be an expert in language, but I misread a simple clause that any elementary school student could have understood. Ouch! Confidence shattered.

When I discovered my mistake, I put it alongside several major life decisions I have made with confidence in the recent past and then doubted their sanity afterward. I was not pleased with what I saw. I walked into the room where my wife was watching television and declared, “I resign!” She gave me a puzzled look, so I clarified, “I resign from life.” This made her even more confused, so I clarified further, “I don’t mean suicide; I mean I am resigning from taking any responsibility for anything ever again.” I told her what I had discovered about the misreading of the federal letter. I told her it was the last straw.

I want to be four years old again. That has always seemed to me to be the perfect age. I can walk and talk and play and have no responsibility whatsoever. I want that. I am done being responsible. I have lost all confidence in myself, and I wonder if what I have been all along is arrogant. People have accused me of arrogance, but in my self-confidence, I have dismissed their accusation as mistaken. Yesterday my doubt in myself reached the tipping point, and I resigned.

I have a friend who is about ten years older than I am. He has had a full life: successful career, life-long marriage partner, generous with money and time to worthy causes. It is sad to see the effects of age taking their toll: speech often incomprehensible, memory unreliable, yet still in a position of responsibility – scary. I wonder if I am slipping into that category. I have always had a lousy memory, but now far too often I have a hard time recalling simple words or well-known names. I sometimes hear myself mouthing babble when I intend meaningful language. The oversights and mistakes are mounting.

I ask myself at what point does dementia move from being a trivial nuisance to being a serious problem. I suspect that when it happens in my life, as in most people’s, I won’t realize it. It would be arrogant for me to say I won’t let my failings affect anyone else. I am going to place my confidence in others to sit me down and talk straight to me when the time comes. My confidence in myself is already flagging.

In 2015 I wrote that I had begun to recognize things about myself that were uncomfortable. (OMG! It’s Me) Now I am wondering if there is such a thing as arrogant introspection. If I begin to lose it, will my pride (arrogance + ignorance = false pride) keep me from getting out of my own way or the way of others? Senility is like this dark cloud that sits on everyone’s horizon. The problem is that as life rolls us ever closer to the horizon, the cloud begins to dim the light. What I have just written is primarily for myself alone. I pray that when the light gets too dim for me to read this, someone will come alongside and help me remember it.