On a Sense of Self-Doubt

June 25, 2026

I fear that there is something that gets lost in the process of seemingly endless writing. When one has written tens of thousands of words on seemingly complex topics— analyzing them through the lens of a specific theory or a specific philosophy— there is an appearance of confidence. This comes as both confidence in the sense that one is confident in their knowledge of the given theory to extended it to a novel domain and confidence in the sense that one believes that their ideas warrant being disseminated. The confidence of the writer or the orator pre-supposes a higher order of knowledge than simple knowledge of subject matter. It supposes that the writer/orator knows that they know these things. This entire line of questioning arises given a principal personal fact. I am certainly confident— to a degree— in my knowledge of the topics on which I have written at great length; however, there exists a certain “gap” in my confidence on whether I know that I know these things or if I think or believe that any given argument to which I have penned an essay or a pamphlet is true or valid (in the colloquial sense rather than a strictly bourgeois-philosophical one).

In traditional philosophy— at least those schools which deem epistemic closure to be valid— knowledge of a thing is said to logically entail knowledge of one’s knowledge of that thing. Written more formally (and abstractly) this it could be said that if one knows a thing, P, then it logically follows that one knows that they know P. However, I would posit that the knowledge of a thing, KP, is materially distinct from the thing itself. The two phenomena are inter-related but remain fundamentally distinct. And furthermore, this is in the domain of bourgeois philosophy. In the materialist-dialectical understanding of knowledge, much has been made of how one knows P, but less has been said of KP, that being knowledge of the second order— how one knows that they know P. 

With respect to the direct knowledge of things in the material world, there is a good deal pre-existing theory. As the great comrade, Chairman Mao Zedong, once said:

“If you want to know the taste of a pear, you must change the pear by eating it yourself […] All genuine knowledge originates in direct experience.”[1]

This quote, and the many correct ideas expressed in “On Practice” provide us with a materialist-dialectical grounding with which to build into the domain of knowledge of the second order. 
This being said, and however fundamental of an axiom it is, questions still arise on the nature of second-order knowledge and how it intersects with personal feelings of self-doubt. In forthcoming sections, we will analyze the particular character of knowledge of the second order, how that character manifests itself through self-doubt, and a synthetic mediation on the nature of knowledge (of all orders) itself. We will in a sense begin with the general form of knowledge, run through the particulars of knowledge and self-doubt, and conclude with the general aspect of how knowledge is expressed (or not expressed) through self-doubt.

1) On Knowledge of the Second Order

Mao articulated very-clearly the process by which knowledge of the first order is attained. Put simply, in order to know P, one must have had a material experience with it; moreover, he must have struggled and labored in the process of changing it. In this view, knowledge (or consciousness) is an extension of creativity— defined as “an attribute of social man who transforms the world and shapes his destiny purposefully and consciously.”[2] Through the act of changing the world, man attains a conscious knowledge of the world. And this is said to be true of any material process. What is notable here is that the “act” of knowing a thing is— in fact— a material process. The knowledge itself is a material-electrical process in the brain and its attainment is the process of struggling for the transformation of a thing. So, if we are to take Mao’s proposition as an axiom, then we may apply it to any material process including KP, the process of knowing P.

To avoid an excess of “rambling,” we can state this clearly by stating that if one would like to know that they know a thing, then they must participate in a rigorous interrogation of said knowledge. He must have direct experience of his own knowing. It must be noted here that when we are discussing the rigorous interrogation of one’s own knowledge; it would be erroneous to say that one gains knowledge through simple pontification divorced from all social practice. Such rigorous interrogation fundamentally a social process and is informed by one’s own conditions. It is social both in the sense that such interrogations often take place amongst one’s own community, and in the sense that it draws upon the other socially constructed and fundamental attributes of mankind itself. 

When discussing the attributes of man as a social being, one cannot metaphysically separate consciousness from the attributes with which it is co-equal and mutually contingent: independence and creativity. The great comrade, Kim Jong Il, explains this in On the Juche Idea:

“If a man is to be an independent creative being, he must have the consciousness of independence.”[2]

Centrally from this brief passage, we learn that the social attributes of man are mutually-reinforcing and mutually-contingent and that knowledge of the second order is essential to true consciousness, for if man is to be a conscious, independent, and creative being, he must have a consciousness of his own consciousness. 

This is all helpful, but we would be remiss to neglect mentioning how second-order knowledge is actually developed. It is developed through social practice— this is incontestable— but how is it developed? If one will excuse the incursion into the territory of meta-philosophy, it would seem that the precise practice in which we are currently engaged, is the aforementioned rigorous interrogation taken in its general aspect.

An Aside on Writing and “Rigorous Interrogation”

I fully and consciously acknowledge that one cannot simply state that the act of writing out one’s ideas is, in and of itself, the rigorous interrogation of said ideas. It is especially true that this cannot be stated without some form of explanation. 

It could be argued— quite effectively, in fact— that the simply writing out paragraphs upon paragraphs is an entirely personal act. Our interlocutor could convincingly elucidate why— in writing— we are not eating the pear so much as describing it. I would, however, disagree with the premises that they seem to be implicitly asserting. Our topic of conversation this evening is not the pear itself, but our second-order knowledge thereof.

In writing out our ideas, we are forced to confront them plainly— in a sense— materially articulate them. When confined to processes of the mind, ideas may be amorphous, contradictory, and even nonsensical. In the processes of explaining their ideas and making them concrete and comprehensible, these amorphisms must be done away with in some fashion. One could say that in the process of writing their ideas, we are participating in the act of creatively transforming them into a qualitatively new form. Once penned, an essay is no longer a loose collection of electrical process in the author’s brain, it is a material thing. This, of course, requires degree of introspection, but I find that the act of writing itself pre-supposes the required introspection. 

On a fundamental level, writing out one’s ideas is a form of the rigorous introspection which we seek. Of course, it is not the only form; however, it is the form with which I am most familiar. Generally, we are saying that rigorous introspection is the act of transforming one’s ideas from amorphous concepts within the mind, into some material practice or object with some structure.

2) Continuing on the Topic of Self-Doubt

We began this piece with a note on self-doubt. I noted that there seems to be a “gap” between my first-order knowledge of a given subject and my confidence or second-order knowledge on that same subject. Having dedicated substantial time to general and theoretical meditation on this topic, we should— in line with dialectical practice— return for a moment to the particular aspect on which be began.

It is incredibly likely that my general lack of confidence in my own ideas and knowledge[3] has not been thoroughly communicated in previous writings. That would seem to be evidence that we are lacking in rigorous interrogation of said lacking confidence. On a particular level, my first and foremost assumption is typically that I am wrong on a given subject— more accurately, my assumption is that I know something, but that my faculties of knowledge are somehow impaired and a degree of non-belief should be retained. If we are to interrogate this claim, we should re-define our premises. Rather than being “impaired” in the sense of a deficit, it would be true to say that my faculties of knowledge are imperfect and that— given my limited experiences— I may claim to “know” things that are not true. However, this should not be treated as a carte-blanche rejection of my own knowledge. I do have material experience and practice with things; those experiences are simply finite— as they are will all finite creatures. 

Furthermore, on the topics on which I write, I am— as has been described— “rigorously interrogating” those ideas as I write them. This would seem to demonstrate a degree of the second-order knowledge with I— or at least a “part” of me— is attempting to deny. The same holds true for speaking which I am— in the realm of the inter-personal— seriously less adept. This is all fine and good; however, an explanation of why such confidence may (or may not) be misplaced is largely unhelpful if we cannot fully articulate why such crises of confidence occur and the conditions under which they arise.

In our rigorous interrogation of these crises of confidence, it seems that a philosophical error— an instance of wrong thinking— has revealed herself. In reference to myself, I have a long and unfortunate history of treating “wrongness” as a metaphysical identity-state that is both static and “above” all other processes. The thought goes that I am fundamentally “wrong” and that that “wrongness” will always poison my ideas and actions regardless of the material circumstance or outcome. 

It is almost humorous. Having dedicated pages-upon-pages to elucidating how this cannot be true for any qualifier, I seem to have applied it to myself in a dogmatic and metaphysical fashion. The materialist-dialectical understanding would be that an action is “wrong” if and only if it produces an unintended adverse result. Our dogmatic and personally self-flagellating understanding is that my so-called “wrongness” sits outside of the realm of material processes. The devil on my shoulder would claim that this wrongness is so totalizing that no further inquiry is required. We can, however, judge this pseudo-“axiom” as against the cudgel of materialist-dialectics and Marxist epistemology. 

If a wrong idea or action is wrong if and only if it produces an adverse result, and the idea that I am fundamentally “wrong” produces the adverse result of these crises of confidence, then it follows that the idea that I am fundamentally “wrong” is itself, wrong. To put more simply, that idea— and its material consequences— produce an adverse and generally inaccurate result; therefore, the idea is backwards. 
As said previously, our analysis would be incomplete if we were to ignore the material origins of this false maxim. To name them all would be an ordeal far too lengthy and personally heart-wrenching; however, we may summarize them.

Existing in a transfeminine and dark-skinned body— especially one which consciously chooses to reject the petit-bourgeois aspirations with which it was raised in favor of a proletarian stand— is a breeding ground for self-deception. Although, to say that it is self-deception is arguably a misnomer. It is the deception of the iron jaw of an imperialist and patriarchal form of social organization. It is the deception of a system which feeds a cancerous form of thinking that serves to protect it. Of course, the systems of gendered and racialized imperialism cannot be taken as the totality of conditions for these crises. It is just as true that these backwards notions are informed by material conditions and class standing as it is that (in this regard) they may originate from a certain psychological make-up. Regardless, it is up to the subject of this ideological retardation to make quick rectification of these notions. The same holds true for political liberalism as is does for personal metaphysics, for “the personal is political.”

3) A Writer/Orator’s Self-Doubt Taken in its General Aspect

A central principle of political theorize and— in my view— productive theory-crafting of all types can be summarized with a simple phrase: “From the general to the particular and from the particular to the general.” Now having gone from a general theory of knowledge of the first and second orders, through the particulars of self-doubt, it is only fitting that one arrives at a generally applicable conclusion. It must be stated plainly that in returning to the general aspect, we are not returning to an identical general aspect. We are returning to one that has been transformed and informed by the particular aspect. Given what we have discussed, two central questions remain (1) What have we learned? And (2) What is to be done?

To address the former, we have firmly demonstrated that knowledge— of any order— is not a static “thing,” nor a fixed destination, it is an ongoing process that takes place over the course of one’s life and more broadly, over the course of humanity’s development. We have furthermore applied a Marxist epistemological standpoint to the question of knowledge of the second order. It, like that of the first order, is a deeply social-material process that is existentially contingent upon social-material practice. Second-order knowledge is attained through a rigorous interrogation of one’s ideas and furthermore through the material expression of those ideas. This arch, however, does not bend towards progressiveness evenly. 
The development of second-order knowledge can and has been impeded by the same force which stifle independence. In fact, it is the stifling of independence— upon which knowledge of any order is mutually-contingent— by the forces of dominationism that lead to backwards and incorrect perceptions of knowledge. This has been greatly explained in the realm of liberal ideas, but— drawing upon the axiom that “the personal is political” and the universality of materialist-dialectics— this notion must be extended into the realm of one’s personal epistemology. Crises of confidence are but another expression of the ideological backwardness and consciousness-stunting character of bourgeois society. 

On the progressive side of the dialectical coin of knowledge, we have made clear note of the fact that in a rigorous and material interrogation of one’s ideas, knowledge of the second order may overcome the forces of dominationism and backwardness which attempt to stunt one’s own development. Beyond writing alone, the generality remains that ideas must be translated into the realm of the material. Not only to verify these ideas for the pure sake of verification, but if we are to ascribe a sort of “value” to knowledge, then these ideas must exist in the realm of the material to be actualized as anything resembling valuable. 

The second question, as always, is more complex. What is one to do with a new understanding of the dialectical character of knowledge? And, as always again, we must return it to practice. Generally, it must be understood and acted upon that knowledge of any order is a social-material process and we develop knowledge in ourselves and others through social-material processes and rigorous interrogation. However, like any idea as stated, this elucidation would be superfluous if not materialized in actionable practice. 
We must “seek truth from facts.” We must seek the truth of the processes occurring before our eyes by interacting with them and struggling to creatively transform them. We must seek the truth of our knowledge of these processes by continuing to struggle with ourselves and within our communities both to combat backwardness and to advance our second-order knowledge— and with it our confidence— of the subject matter we face. The great comrade, Fred Hampton’s maxim remains true:

“If you dare to struggle, you dare to win, and if you don’t dare to struggle, then damnit you don’t deserve to win!”

[1] Mao Zedong. "On Practice: On the Relation Between Knowledge and Practice, Between Knowing and Doing." July 1937. In Selected Works of Mao Tse-tung, vol. 1. Peking: Foreign Languages Press, 1965. Marxists Internet Archive.

[2] Kim Jong Il. On the Juche Idea. March 31, 1982. Pyongyang: Foreign Languages Publishing House, 1982. Marxists Internet Archive.

[3] *of the second order