Today is Juneteenth, a day that commemorates the end of slavery in the United States and reminds us that freedom, justice, and equality have always required people willing to confront difficult truths.
I actually had a different article planned for today. But this morning I found myself thinking about a different kind of truth. Not historical truth, but personal truth. The truth that none of us arrive in this world knowing everything we need to know.
Yet increasingly, it feels like we expect people to.
I’ve mentioned before but it remains true here too- we live in a culture that demands immediate understanding. We expect people to have the correct opinions, the correct language, the correct perspective, and the correct response at all times. We expect them to understand complex social issues, historical context, and lived experiences, often before they’ve had the opportunity to learn. When they fall short, the response is often swift and unforgiving. It was only a number of years ago that I did not understand the importance of this day and I found myself afraid to ask because it felt like something I should already know. I felt ashamed for not knowing but not in a way that would encourage me to ask, the kind of way that encouraged silence. It wasn’t until several WEEKS after the day that I found myself digging deeper and learning.
To be clear, I am not arguing against accountability. Quite the opposite. Harm should be acknowledged. Ignorance should be challenged. Bad behavior should have consequences. Accountability matters because our actions matter. The impact we have on other people matters. A healthy society cannot function if we refuse to confront harmful behavior when it occurs.
The problem arises when accountability quietly transforms into something else. Somewhere along the way, we began treating mistakes as permanent character assessments rather than opportunities for growth. We stopped asking whether someone understood the harm they caused and started asking whether they deserved to remain part of the conversation at all.
Those are very different questions.
Holding someone accountable means requiring them to face the consequences of their actions. Cancelling someone means deciding their actions are the entirety of who they are. One focuses on behavior. The other defines a human being. And while that distinction may seem subtle, I think it changes everything.
The reason I feel strongly about this is because every single one of us is standing on a mountain of things we did not know five years ago. I know I am. There are beliefs I once held that I no longer hold. There are perspectives I failed to understand. There are experiences I could not appreciate because I had not lived them. There are things I said with confidence that I would say differently today. That isn’t hypocrisy. It’s growth. I had to step out of the ideals that had been given to me and learn for myself what I believed. I had to questions what was taught and seek out answers.
In many ways, learning is simply a series of realizations that you were wrong about something. That’s true whether you’re learning medicine, relationships, business, history, or yourself. Growth requires enough humility to admit that your current understanding may not be your final understanding.
The irony is that the people who appear most certain are often learning the least. Curiosity requires openness. It requires the willingness to encounter information that challenges your worldview. It requires the courage to sit with discomfort long enough for understanding to emerge. None of that happens when the social consequences of being wrong become so severe that people are afraid to engage honestly.
The people who changed my mind throughout my life were rarely the people who shamed me. They were the people who challenged me. They asked better questions. They offered different perspectives. They invited me to think more deeply than I had before. They held me accountable while still believing I was capable of becoming better. Looking back, that combination was far more transformative than condemnation ever could have been.
I think we have created a false choice between accountability and compassion, as though we must choose one or the other. But accountability without grace often becomes punishment, while grace without accountability becomes avoidance. Neither creates meaningful change. Real growth happens when we are honest enough to acknowledge harm and hopeful enough to believe people can learn from it.
What concerns me most is that we may be creating a culture where admitting you were wrong is more dangerous than remaining wrong. If every mistake becomes evidence that a person is irredeemable (yes I’m talking about cancel culture here), then people have little incentive to be honest about their blind spots, misunderstandings, or failures. They become defensive rather than reflective. And defensiveness has never been a particularly effective teacher.
Every meaningful lesson I have learned in my life began with discovering I was wrong about something. Every single one. That realization was sometimes uncomfortable, occasionally embarrassing, and almost always necessary. If we genuinely want people to grow, we have to leave room for that process.
Let it be said that there are way too many white men getting away with shit in this world than should ever be okay. I am by no means excusing their actions. There SHOULD be accountability for each and every one of them. That does not mean excusing harmful behavior. It does not mean avoiding difficult conversations. It does not mean lowering our standards. It means remembering that accountability is supposed to be a bridge rather than a destination. The goal is not humiliation. The goal is transformation.
Juneteenth reminds us that progress has always required people willing to confront uncomfortable truths. But progress has also required people willing to believe that change is possible. History itself is evidence that people, institutions, and societies can evolve.
The question is whether we still believe individuals can too.
I hope we do.
Because every one of us is a work in progress. And if we lose sight of that, we lose one of the most powerful forces for change that has ever existed: the human capacity to learn, grow, and become something better than we were before.
If you’re new here, I’m Dr. Landon Eggleston, a board certified emergency medicine physician in Chicago. Clear View explores health and wellness through the lens of someone who interacts with life and death daily- offering a grounded perspective on what it truly means to make the most of your one wild and precious life. If you are looking for where to start, start here. If you want to read more, here’s what I’ve been working on recently: organization tools that were instrumental in my own success, what truly matters at the end of life, why high functioning humans are the loneliest, why crying is so important, and insight into seasonal depression. If perhaps you are here looking for a bit of ER drama, I’ve got you here and here. If you feel called to live with more clarity, intention, and courage, this space is for you. Subscribe for free to receive new posts and join the conversation.
The pursuit of learning about one day breaks down your journey of how your values evolved, beliefs held dearer shifted and you stepped towards progression. 👏
Landon. This is tragic & completely unsurprising at the same time. Shame is just faster than grace; it doesn't require patience, context, or the discomfort of holding two things at once. A pile-on takes ten seconds.
While actual accountability takes the work you're describing here: staying in the room long enough to ask whether someone understood the harm, not just whether they should be removed from it.
& ugh, social media made the faster option nearly effortless. Distance, anonymity, & an audience that rewards certainty over curiosity; it's practically the perfect incubator for cruelty dressed up as justice.
"the goal is a bridge, not a destination" should be *stitched* into every comment section that exists.