I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of

The words of h Sitwell—“I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it”—fall with the sharpness of a sword, separating weakness from arrogance. To be stupid, to be ignorant, is no crime; it is the common condition of humanity. For all of us are born without knowledge, and all of us must stumble in the dark before we learn to walk in light. To such weakness, patience and compassion are due. But to be proud of ignorance, to wear foolishness as a crown and to resist learning as though it were an insult—that is not mere frailty, but defiance against wisdom itself. Such pride is not to be endured.

The origin of Sitwell’s thought comes from her life as a poet and critic, steeped in literature, yet surrounded by a society that often preferred glitter over thought, and arrogance over understanding. She saw clearly that human error was forgivable when joined with humility, but that pride in ignorance threatened to spread like rot, corrupting not only the one who bore it but those who followed in their steps. Her words strike not against weakness, but against willful blindness made arrogant.

History provides vivid examples of this truth. Consider Galileo Galilei, who, armed with his telescope, revealed that the earth was not the center of the cosmos. Many who doubted him out of ignorance might be excused—they had never seen what he had seen. But those who proudly clung to their ignorance, scorning evidence and mocking truth, became enemies not of Galileo alone, but of knowledge itself. They were not guilty of stupidity—they were guilty of arrogance, an arrogance that slowed the progress of mankind.

The same pattern was seen in the struggles of Frederick Douglass, the great abolitionist. Many in his time were ignorant of the cruelty of slavery, sheltered by distance or custom. But there were others who boasted of their ignorance, who gloried in their blindness, who declared their refusal to see the suffering of their fellow man. Against such pride, Douglass wielded words like thunder, for patience has its place, but silence in the face of willful ignorance becomes complicity.

This wisdom applies also in our daily lives. If a child struggles to understand, we must be patient, for his ignorance is innocent. If a friend errs, we must guide gently, for his mistake may be born of confusion. But if one mocks wisdom, boasts of not knowing, or wears ignorance like a badge of honor, then patience is no virtue. To tolerate such pride is to allow arrogance to spread, to poison the minds of others who may mistake foolishness for strength. Patience with weakness, but firmness against arrogance—this is Sitwell’s law.

The lesson for us is this: be kind to those who struggle, for ignorance is the soil in which learning takes root. But do not mistake tolerance for surrender when arrogance resists truth. Stand firm against the proud ignorance that mocks wisdom, for it is not humility but rebellion against knowledge. There is no shame in not knowing—only in refusing to know.

In practice, this means cultivating discernment. Offer patience to those eager to learn, even when their mistakes are many. Do not scorn the one who asks simple questions, for in their humility lies the seed of wisdom. But when confronted with pride in ignorance, do not bow to it, do not remain silent, do not treat arrogance as equal to truth. Answer it firmly, lest others mistake its noise for wisdom.

So let Sitwell’s words echo across the ages: “I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it.” Be a guardian of truth—gentle with the weak, but unyielding to the arrogant. For the progress of mankind depends not only on the patience we show to those who stumble, but on the courage with which we resist those who boast of never walking at all.