Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to

The words of Thomas Szasz, “Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one's self-esteem. That is why young children, before they are aware of their own self-importance, learn so easily,” pierce deeply into the heart of wisdom. In them, he reveals a truth both humbling and liberating: that to grow, we must be willing to be wounded; to gain wisdom, we must endure the sting of ignorance being exposed. For the path of learning is not smooth—it is paved with mistakes, with failures, with moments where pride is shattered so that understanding may take its place.

Children are fearless learners because they have no armor of ego, no fortress of pride to defend. They stumble, fall, and rise again without shame. Their laughter carries them forward, and so they learn with ease. But adults, bound by self-importance, resist this humble posture. They fear looking foolish, they dread mistakes, they hide behind pretense. Thus, their learning slows, not because the mind is too weak, but because the heart is too proud. To learn, one must be willing to bow, to say, “I do not know,” and in that surrender, the gate of wisdom opens.

The ancients themselves understood this. Socrates, the great philosopher of Athens, declared that his only wisdom was knowing that he knew nothing. His humility made him the greatest teacher of his age. While others sought to appear wise, Socrates embraced the injury to his self-esteem, admitting ignorance so that truth might enter. For this reason, he compared himself to a midwife, helping birth wisdom not from pride, but from the pain of admitting what is false. This is the spirit of Szasz’s teaching: that learning requires the death of vanity and the rebirth of humility.

Consider the story of Abraham Lincoln, who as a young man was mocked for his awkwardness, his lack of education, his rural simplicity. He taught himself to read, to write, to reason through books by candlelight, enduring constant failure in politics and personal life. Each defeat cut his pride, but each wound was transformed into strength. By the time he became president, he was a master of words and wisdom, precisely because he had embraced the pain of constant learning. Had he shielded his pride, he would have remained in obscurity; instead, he accepted the humiliation of failure as the cost of growth, and in time, his leadership saved a nation.

The meaning of this teaching is both harsh and merciful. Harsh, because it reminds us that learning will wound our pride, expose our weakness, and humble us before others. Merciful, because it assures us that this very process is the gateway to greatness. The pain is not permanent; it is the refining fire that purges arrogance and makes room for truth. Those who embrace this fire will emerge stronger, wiser, freer. Those who avoid it will remain trapped in the chains of their own fragile self-esteem.

Let us, then, embrace the path of the child. When corrected, do not shrink in shame; when failing, do not cling to pride. Instead, see each blow to the ego as the hammer that shapes the sword of your mind. Practice saying, “I do not know—teach me,” for in those words lies power greater than the illusion of perfection. To live without learning is to die while still breathing, but to learn continually is to renew life each day.

The practical action is clear: seek opportunities to place yourself in the position of the learner. Ask questions without fear, attempt what you do not yet know, and accept correction with gratitude rather than resentment. Surround yourself with those who challenge you, for they are the true teachers who pierce your pride. Each time you endure the wound of exposed ignorance, you step closer to mastery.

Therefore, O seeker of wisdom, carry Szasz’s words as a shield against vanity and a sword against fear: “Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one’s self-esteem.” Be as the child—humble, unashamed, eager—and you shall learn swiftly. For in the end, pride dies, but knowledge endures, and it is knowledge, born through humility, that lifts the soul toward greatness.