Culture on My Mind
The Power of Admitting You’re Wrong
June 25, 2026

On February 11, 2026, a sheriff’s deputy in Palm Beach County, Florida cited a driver for using her mobile phone while driving. The state’s distracted driving laws allow phone use for navigation and voice calls, but prohibit active texting or typing while driving and ban use completely in school zones and construction zones.

Katie Thomas is an adaptive athlete who documents her life via social media. She was born without a right hand, which is the hand she was accused of using to violate the distracted driving law. When Thomas confronted the deputy with this fact, he still issued the citation. When the error went viral and the nation saw the absurdity on their phones, computers, and televisions, the Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Office formally dropped the charge and dismissed the ticket.

Here’s the thing: The entire affair could have ended right there on North Dixie Highway had the sheriff’s deputy admitted his mistake and walked away. Instead, because of what I can only imagine was pride and fear of personal embarrassment, the citation blossomed into national news.

We’re living in an age of immense distrust in law enforcement. It’s a complex social issue influenced by high-profile misconduct cases, racial and social inequities, and authoritarianism. Events like the killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Freddie Gray, policies like “stop-and-frisk” and racial profiling, and recent collaborations with overly militarized immigration enforcement agencies compound over time. The fallout is perceived illegitimacy of police agencies, discouragement of community cooperation, and demands for transparency and reductions in force.

Personally, my family grew up with a great deal of respect for police, but our confidence has been shaken by altercations with corrupt cops while doing nothing more than obeying the law, the very thing policing proponents say will stop people from getting hurt during police encounters. Long story short: Just doing what you’re told is not the absolute right answer.

Events that foment distrust, like the Palm Beach citation, can be defused by admitting errors. It was an obvious error to accuse a woman of operating a phone with a hand she does not possess. Consider that level of power: A simple admission of humanity, exchanging a moment of control for a moment of humility, can touch millions.

One of my favorite book quotes comes from 1991’s Star Wars: Heir to the Empire by Timothy Zahn:

“Do you know the difference between an error and a mistake, Ensign? Anyone can make an error. But that error doesn’t become a mistake until you refuse to correct it.”

When I was in the United States Navy’s nuclear power program, we addressed errors and oversights through a formal critique program. The methodology uncovered root causes for failures and developed corrective actions, often in an attempt to prevent errors from evolving into mistakes. The process wasn’t easy, especially on the egos of intelligent nuclear operators who thrive on a culture of perfection, but it was highly effective at maintaining the standards and growing the culture.

I know from personal experience how tiny errors can grow into mistakes that threaten peoples’ lives. Those are sea stories for a different day.

But the error made by one sheriff’s deputy can be a lesson learned for all of us. There is immense power in admitting when you’re wrong. We all need to have the integrity and fortitude to take that step.

Culture on My Mind is inspired by the weekly Can’t Let It Go segment on the NPR Politics Podcast where each host brings one thing to the table that they just can’t stop thinking about.

For more creativity with a critical eye, visit Creative Criticality.