“When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong.” 

Dr. Jake Houseman

It is summer, 2016. I am in a Pick Up Stix in Thousand Oaks, California, with my wife, my mother-in-law, and their cousin, having a quick bite of lunch before heading for a family gathering. The TV in the restaurant is tuned to FOX News (Simi Valley, duh), and they are talking about the somewhat-surprising selection of Indiana Governor Mike Pence to be Donald Trump’s running mate.

As the only former Hoosier at the table, they ask me what I think about Pence and his qualifications. I tell that that, when I lived in Indiana, Pence was still a stuffy Congressman who most people (at least the ones in the circles I traveled) thought of as a joke. His selection was a desperate sop to the Trump-skeptical Religious Right, I told them, and not worth thinking too much about because–and I said this with tremendous confidence–“There’s a zero percent chance Mike Pence will ever be Vice President. Because there’s no way Trump will win.“

A full a decade later, I still get teased about it. Not so much the prediction itself, which a lot of people also got wrong, but the authoritative-bordering-on-imperious tone in which I delivered it. I’m kidded about it anytime I predict anything too definitively–an Oscar winner, a sports outcome, a change in the weather–to the point where I will sometimes bring it up myself to create some “don’t quote me on this” wiggle room.

Sure, I’d love if this weren’t such a go-to reference within this particular family circle. But I’m also self-aware enough to recognize how often and easily I still drift into the realm of unjustified Talk Radio Guy certainty. A little humble pie is good from time to time, if only as a reminder not to be too sure about anything.

I don’t like being wrong. But it’s happened plenty before and inevitably will happen plenty more. As much as I don’t like it, these last ten years have shown us how much worse things are when you can’t or won’t ever admit you’re wrong. Doubling down might make you feel better, but the long-term damage is often far worse than just taking the loss and moving on.

It it feels like an obvious point. But given how many people have clearly never internalized it, it bears repeating. Being wrong is human. Being an asshole is a choice.

Don’t be that guy.