Uncredible Paradox
Being Uncredible Makes Us Credible
One of the worst parts of going through college is writing research papers. Don’t get me wrong—I love to write. It’s not the writing that’s bad. Some people hate the research part, but I actually enjoyed that too.
I enjoy learning new things, digging into original source material, and making new discoveries. What I really hated about research papers wasn’t the research or the writing.
It was citing my sources.
I could write a twenty-page paper faster than I could put together a works cited page.
I attended college during a strange time—when the internet had just taken off, but academia was still hesitant to embrace it. In high school, we weren’t permitted to use internet sources at all. When I entered college, internet research was allowed, but only as a tiny portion of your sources.
For example, if a professor required ten sources, only two or three could be from the internet. And those few would be scrutinized to death. I couldn’t cite a blog or someone’s anecdotal evidence. The sources had to be “credible.” If a professor decided a source wasn’t credible, you’d get hit with a 10% deduction off the top.
As a result, most students avoided internet sources altogether.
I Am Uncredible
This idea of “credibility” stuck with me. It stuck because all the “credible” sources I’d ever cited were pretty unique people. Academic juggernauts. Lifetime professors. Highly successful businessmen whose writings were published.
While they were considered credible, they weren’t like anyone I knew. What did these people really know about lower-middle-class hard work? What could they teach a factory worker grinding through the night shift? How could they relate to a single mom or a stay-at-home mom with three kids?
After finishing my Master’s degree, I came to a surprising conclusion:
The people I thought were credible… weren’t.
The people I recognized as credible would never be accepted as sources in a research paper. And yet, these people were most of us. Factory workers. Office workers. Single moms. Exhausted dads.
And you know what else? Those “most of us” people didn’t find a single source I had ever cited to be credible in their world.
When I went to work in factories and office buildings, people would chuckle at my degree.
What did my degree teach me about showing up every day and grinding through a seemingly dead-end job?
I can answer that: Nothing.
What counted as “credible” in their eyes was reliability—showing up and working shoulder-to-shoulder with them. Logging thirteen twelve-hour shifts in a row and dragging yourself back in on day fifteen with only one day off.
That’s what made me credible to them.
The Paradox
I think as far back as 2014 I came up with this idea of “uncredible.” I even had a podcast where I interviewed regular people I met online. Instead of chasing high-profile, “credible” guests, I talked to random people with no following at all.
One of my favorite shirts (which I might recreate someday) simply said:
“I am Uncredible.”
The paradox is that by becoming uncredible—by openly saying, “I am uncredible”—I actually prove the opposite. If I’m uncredible, then you shouldn’t listen to me. But if I say I’m uncredible and you still trust me… then I’m credible.
The paradox only emerges when you embrace the concept.
If you’re chasing credibility, you’ll never grasp the freedom that comes from being uncredible. There’s a refreshing comfort in admitting you’re just like everyone else. You’re not better or smarter. You’re just like them.
That’s what makes you both credible and uncredible.
The media personalities we tend to look up to—those we call credible—are nothing like us. They don’t know what it’s like to struggle paycheck to paycheck. Maybe they once did, but many forgot that struggle long ago.
Most of us have college debt, failed attempts at careers, and live month to month doing the best we can for our families and communities.
The paradox of becoming uncredible is that by embracing being regular, normal, and average… you start becoming irregular, abnormal, and unique. When you make a mistake, it’s expected—because after all, you’re uncredible. When you don’t succeed, it makes sense. You’re uncredible.
But that truth isn’t disappointing. It’s exciting.
You’re just like the majority of people. You can connect with almost anyone because you are most people.
And as you embrace the paradox, you enter a mindspace that can only be described as…
Uncredible.
Music for voice over by Jeremusic70 on Pixabay.