Is That True—Or Just What You Believe?

I am fascinated by emotional intelligence, or EQ. My first introduction came several years ago through Dr. Alan Zimmerman’s Tuesday Tip emails. (If you’ve never read them, I highly recommend subscribing.) Dr. Z credits much of the foundational work in EQ to Daniel Goleman, whose research and writing helped shape what we now understand as the five components of emotional intelligence.

EQ resonated with me immediately because it gave language to things I’d long observed but couldn’t quite name—especially the way some people go through life seemingly unaware (or unconcerned) about how they affect others. Ironically, these same folks are often quick to let you know if you inconvenience them. I’ve always tried not to be that person. Maybe it’s how I was raised. Either way, I’ve come to see that self-awareness—the first and most fundamental component of EQ—is a rare and powerful trait.

Recently, organizational psychologist Adam Grant posted this thought:

“Too many people recognize their opinions as feelings, but mistake their beliefs for facts. Closed minds hold truths to be self-evident. Open minds are willing to question even strongly held views. Lifelong learning requires the courage to challenge our own convictions.”

That hit me. It echoed things I’ve been thinking about and discussing lately with people close to me.

Grant’s right: distinguishing between our feelings and facts is hard. But distinguishing between our beliefs and facts may be even harder—because beliefs go deeper. They’re personal. They often shape our identities. And that makes them harder to challenge or change.

He also used a phrase I found telling: self-evident truths. You’ll recognize it from the Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident…” Meaning, anyone with sense and objectivity should reach the same conclusions. But that assumption can be dangerous if we apply it too broadly.

Here’s the truth (lowercase “t”) about many of our beliefs:

1. They’re not objectively provable.

I’m a person of faith. I believe the human soul is eternal. I believe this life isn’t the end. But I can’t prove that. My beliefs are informed by scripture, personal experience, and conviction—but not by indisputable evidence. That’s why faith is essential.

2. They’re deeply influenced by our upbringing.

Much of what I believe comes from how and where I was raised. But not everyone grew up in my house, in my town, or with my values. Different cultures shape different belief systems. That doesn’t necessarily make them wrong—or make me right. But it does mean we should hold our beliefs with humility.

So what do we do with all this?

We stay open. We question our assumptions. We ask, “Could I be wrong about this?”

That one question has helped me more than I can say. It hasn’t made me discard everything I believe. In fact, it’s often strengthened my beliefs by forcing me to re-examine them and understand them more deeply. But it’s also helped me make space for others—especially those who see things differently.

Because if I treat my beliefs as absolute truth, then anyone who disagrees must be wrong. That mindset leads (consciously or unconsciously) to judgment, division, and disconnection—things it’s very important to me to avoid.

But if I remember that beliefs aren’t facts—and that beliefs can evolve—then I can engage others with respect, curiosity, and even affection.

So I’ll keep asking the hard question:
Where am I mistaking belief for fact?
Where could my mind be more open?

And maybe you’ll ask it, too.