The Fine Art Of Being Wrong With Confidence

Confirmation Bias: You wanted to be right? You’re going to be wrong.

 

In life, there are those who are always right… and those who are never wrong.

And then, of course, there’s our intuition, that infallible sixth sense we’re so proud of, especially in hindsight.

We should have trusted it, obviously, when things started going off the rails.

That classic “I’ve never been wrong” or the ever-satisfied “I knew it from the start.”

At some point, we all become expert analysts, after the fact.

Champions of retroactive clarity, like those TV pundits who are always brilliant at predicting what’s already happened.

 

What you call intuition is sometimes just a well-rooted bias

 

You’ve probably “sized someone up” in under a minute.

That gut feeling that he would be difficult.

That she wouldn’t be up to the task.

That unless things were done your way, everything would fall apart.

And as if by magic, everything that happened next seemed to confirm that initial impression.

Not because it was accurate, but because your brain went to work to make sure you were right.

 

It activated a filter. A selective sorting of information.

And only allowed in what supported your original opinion.

 

This phenomenon has a name: confirmation bias.

 

What exactly is confirmation bias?

 

Confirmation bias is one of the most extensively studied cognitive biases in social psychology and neuroscience.

 

It refers to our natural tendency to seek out, interpret, and remember information that confirms our existing beliefs, while ignoring or downplaying anything that contradicts them.

It’s an internal validation mechanism, deeply rooted, and it serves as a psychological defense against uncertainty and cognitive dissonance.

Put simply: we’d rather feel right than be challenged.

 

In its raw form, what does it look like?

 

We want to be right.

So we’ll make sure we are right.

Our brain does everything it can to help.

 

It becomes the personal lawyer of our own cause:

gathering selected evidence, reframing facts, amplifying weak signals, twisting silences into confessions, and turning doubts into proof.

Always in our favor.

And the worst part? It doesn’t even require bad faith.

The bias is automatic, unconscious, and often invisible to the person falling into it.

 

Common signs of biased reasoning

 

– “I knew she’d be late.” (translation: I told you so)

– “He never listens, you can tell.”

– “Told you he’d be brilliant, just listen to him speak.” (the cognitive equivalent of “this car is fast because it’s red”)

– “Ah, Gen Z… things were better in my day.”

– “He went to Oxford” (translation: just give him the keys and get out of his way)

These lines may sound harmless.

But they reflect a cognitive filter at work — twisting reality to fit a preexisting belief.

 

This bias is everywhere. Not just at work.

 

It’s with you when choosing what to watch, when arguing with your partner, when reading the news, or forming political opinions. Everywhere.

 

– On Netflix, you watch what the algorithm suggests. You think you’re choosing. In fact, you’re being confirmed.

– In relationships, arguments loop endlessly: each side retains only what reinforces their version of the story.

– On social media, you live in a carefully curated bubble of opinion, reading views that echo your own, endorsed by people who think just like you.

What you call “intuition” is often the signature of cognitive confinement , where the comfort of being validated trumps any form of objective verification.

 

What if you recruited with this bias as your co-pilot?

 

Picture this: a CV lands on your desk.

There’s a typo. You notice it.

 

The interview begins. You subconsciously start scanning for other signs of carelessness.

And, unsurprisingly, you find them.

Not because they’re glaringly there, but because you’re already looking for them.

 

Now imagine the typo came from a candidate who went to HEC, or from someone who graduated from a lesser-known regional business school.

Would your reaction be the same?

Same filter? Same judgment?

 

Even if the person is smart, competent, and genuine, you’ll only see what you had already decided to look for — often before they even speak.

 

At this point, you’re no longer running an interview.

You’re just validating a hypothesis.

 

What this bias leads to, in practice:

 

– Candidates dismissed for the wrong reasons

– Profiles favored because they resemble you or reassure you

– Hiring decisions based on impressions, not evidence

– An illusion of objectivity that blocks real reflection

 

And the most dangerous part?

You still think you’re being fair.

 

Why is this bias so stubborn?

 

Because our brain craves order, consistency, and stability.

It hates ambiguity, uncertainty, and internal contradictions.

 

It would rather be wrong with the group than right alone.

It prefers a shared error to an isolated truth.

 

Psychologists call this the need for cognitive congruence: the compulsion to adjust facts to fit beliefs… rather than adjusting beliefs to fit facts.

 

As Coluche put it, in his own way:

“Just because they’re many to be wrong doesn’t mean they’re right.”

 

Can we get rid of it?

 

No. But we can corner it.

Like most cognitive biases, confirmation bias doesn’t vanish.

But it can be confronted, reduced, and sometimes neutralized.

 

The first step is being aware of it. Daily.

 

Some effective habits:

– Seek out diverse perspectives : especially those that challenge you.

– Ask for cross-sourced, anonymous, and contextual feedback.

– Expose yourself to contradiction, not to win arguments, but to expand your view.

– Read people who disagree with you. Not to dismiss them, but to understand what they see that you don’t.

– And when possible: do this offline, away from social media and its comfort algorithms.

 

That’s exactly what we built fairception for:

A structured tool based on cross-perceptions, designed to help you see what you can’t see on your own.

Not in yourself. Not in others.

 

 

Conclusion

 

If you always feel like you have great instincts,

maybe it just means you’ve stopped sensing anything new.

 

So next time you say “I knew it,”

ask yourself:

Did you really know… or did you just want to believe it?