People who think they know what they are talking about when they

When Michael Lewis declared, “People who think they know what they are talking about when they talk about baseball include the announcers and all of the sports press—no matter how much evidence you present them to the contrary they will continue to think that what they think is right,” he was unveiling a truth not just about baseball, but about human stubbornness. His words reflect the eternal battle between perception and reality, between tradition and new understanding. For in the great game, as in life, there are those who cling to their own authority of opinion, even when truth and numbers prove them wrong.

The origin of this quote rests in Lewis’s work as the author of Moneyball, where he chronicled how the Oakland Athletics used statistics and analysis to defy conventional wisdom and win against richer teams. In writing this, he exposed the blindness of many sports commentators and journalists, who clung to old measures of greatness—batting averages, stolen bases, appearances—while ignoring new evidence about what actually led to victory. His words remind us that those who present themselves as experts often resist change, for their power lies in the illusion of certainty.

History too is filled with such examples. When Galileo proclaimed that the earth moved around the sun, the learned men of his age mocked him, clinging to their beliefs despite mounting evidence. When Ignaz Semmelweis told doctors to wash their hands to prevent disease, they dismissed him, preferring their authority to truth. Just as with baseball announcers and press, these men would not yield, for to admit error was to admit weakness. Lewis’ insight is therefore not about baseball alone—it is about the pride of mankind.

His words also teach us the danger of authority without humility. Announcers and journalists hold the ears of millions, and their confidence gives weight to their words. Yet confidence without truth is dangerous, for it misleads the many and silences the few who hold real knowledge. Lewis saw how even in the face of evidence, the old guard of baseball refused to yield, clinging to their familiar dogmas. This is the same error that repeats in every field where pride outweighs reason.

There is a lesson here about the courage of evidence. To stand against the press of popular opinion is difficult, for the crowd will mock the dissenter and honor the loud voice of the so-called expert. But truth does not bow to noise. The numbers, the outcomes, the quiet reality—they will endure when opinion fades. The task, then, is not to silence those who resist, but to persist in presenting truth until time itself makes it undeniable.

For us, the teaching is clear: do not be swayed by authority alone. Seek evidence. Question even those who speak with confidence. Remember that what is repeated often is not always right, and that the minority voice, armed with reason, may be closer to truth than the chorus of the many. And if you find yourself in the role of the announcer or the press, speak not with arrogance but with humility, for knowledge is never complete.

So let us remember Michael Lewis’s words: “They will continue to think that what they think is right.” Let them remind us of the danger of pride, the blindness of authority, and the strength of evidence. Let them inspire us to seek truth, even when it is unfashionable, and to hold fast to it with patience. For though the world may cling to its illusions, truth, like a well-struck ball, will find its way through the noise and land where no doubt can reach it.