How Do I Know Anything for Sure?
It starts with an itch, a frustration. Not the philosophical kind, but something more of the ordinary. Let’s say, you’re scrolling. You see a friend post about a solo Europe trip. Another brags about closing a client. Someone else is posting yet another reel about the “5 habits of billionaires”.
And you pause for a moment to think about it. You must.
Not because you want what they have, you’re not even sure you do, but because something doesn’t add up. Something feels… a little bit off.
And the questions come up:
- How do I know any of this is true?
- How do I know what’s real, and what’s just noise, distraction, or bias?
- How do I even know what I know, and how do I know I’m not fooling myself?
What Can Be Known, Anyway?
Let’s start at the surface: what do we mean by “knowing something”?
To most of us, “knowing” is:
- Repetition = truth (“I’ve heard this from five people…”)
- Consensus = reality (“Everyone believes this…”)
- Comfort = confidence (“I feel good about this, so it must be right…”)
But none of these pass the scrutiny of lived experience.
I’ve trusted teachers, parents, and books, only to later find contradictions and confident circular logic.
There is No User Manual
Existentialism, at its core, throws away the whole idea that there’s a grand cosmic instruction booklet. Remember, “Big brother is watching you” from Orwell’s 1984. There is no one.
There is no predefined Truth™ handed down from above. There is no guarantee that what you believe is real, only that you are responsible for how you engage with your beliefs.
Sartre puts it as: “Existence precedes essence.”
So, basically, you exist first. Then, if you have the courage, you define what that existence means.
This isn’t an excuse for aimlessness or running around like you have nothing to do. It’s a call for activeness, awareness, curiosity, and the ability to make choices.
You don’t inherit meaning. You can’t. You build it, brick by brick, failure by failure, observation by observation. For years, for decades.
So when I ask myself “how do I know something?”, the existentialistic answer would be:
“You don’t. But you choose. And the weight of that choice is yours to carry.”
Ayn Rand’s Objectivism
Ayn Rand challenges the fog of existential doubt, but also challenges the idea that there’s a “right” way to live.
She’d say: “There is a knowable reality. It’s not opinion. It’s not socially constructed. It’s out there. And you, if you’re rational enough, can know it.”
Objectively, the mind is not like a sponge or a mirror, it’s a tool, maybe like a knife. You cut through illusion with reason. Not because you’re cynical, but because clarity demands effort.
In reality, facts don’t care how you feel about them. Truth isn’t up for debate, it’s observed, not invented and reality stands no matter what.
But Ayn Rand also demands something fierce: “That you never outsource your judgment.” You can’t just accept anything as it is. You must challenge it, question it, and find a way to make sense of it. That you build your worldview from first-hand engagement, not second-hand belief.
I’m not saying you (I) automatically know the truth. But you have the capacity to know it if you’re honest enough to look and brave enough to see.
So from Ayn Rand, the lesson is:
Certainty is earned, not assumed. And it must never be borrowed.
Darwin
Darwin doesn’t speak about truth in metaphysical terms. But he does in evolutionary terms. He is the evolution kind of guy. He speaks in terms of adaptation, survival, and function.
His philosophy, though often left out of “philosophy,” is deeply humbling:
Life doesn’t run on truth. It runs on what works. Organisms don’t need to know the universe; they just need to fit well enough to pass on their genes.
This is a dark but clarifying lens: A lot of what we believe might just be adaptive illusion. Comforting beliefs. Herd mentality. Psychological crutches that helped our ancestors cooperate, reproduce, or avoid tigers.
So how do I know what I know isn’t just another evolutionary PR campaign?
I don’t. But I can test for it, with reason and logic:
- Does this belief make me clearer or more confused?
- Does it make me stronger, or more fragile?
- Does it help me see, or just help me cope?
Darwin’s approach reminds me to watch for utility without mistaking it for truth.
Your body and the world is a means to attain liberation. - Advait Vedanta
So Where Do “I” Stand?
After all this, the existential void, Ayn Rand’s focus on reason, Darwin’s evolutionary tales, where am I? I don’t know.
Maybe, somewhere between cautious and stubborn.
I don’t trust the implied certainty. But I trust what holds up, until I learn better. Some basics can be:
- Repeated observation
- All parts fit together logically
- Feedback from reality
- The calm clarity you feel when something is real, not copied, not emotional, just understood.
That’s what I chase. Not only that, but I also chase the wisdom that comes with it. Not flashy beliefs. Not viral truths. Not slogans. They are just fillers in a marketing campaign.
Only the moment when something stands on its own, even if no one else sees it.
The Litmus
When I try to know something, I ask:
- Did I experience this first-hand, or am I echoing someone?
- Can I explain this to a 12-year-old without hand-waving?
- Does this belief make me more responsible or more dependent?
- If I strip away fear, desire, and identity; does it still hold?
If a statement passes these, I keep it. If not, I drop it. Or shelve it with a label, “Pending clarity” and wait until I’m ready to look deeper.
I don’t know anything for sure. Maybe that’s the only thing I know. But I’m learning to live beyond it. Improve my perspective, attention, and focus. Teaching myself to be more investigative.
Because the point isn’t to collect answers like badges. The point is to keep looking. Without flinching, faking, and without stopping. And maybe, just maybe, that’s all the knowing I’ll need for now. But I’m ready to keep learning.
#Unself
Last updated: 2025-07-02T21:52:12+05:30