Recently, I found myself watching—and then rewatching—a short Instagram video by a professor that stopped me in my tracks. She opened with a simple but deeply provocative question:
“One of the first questions I ask my students every semester is: Do you care if your beliefs are true?”
That question alone is enough to make most of us pause. Of course we care—right?
She continued:
“Their response is almost always, ‘Of course I do.’”
“Then I ask: What if one of your beliefs wasn’t true? Would you want to know?”
And then, the clincher:
“How likely is it that all of your beliefs are true?”
That’s the moment she has them. And it had me, too. Because as clinicians and educators, it’s tempting—comfortable, even—to assume that what we’ve learned, practiced, and taught is grounded in enduring truth. But the reality is this: it is extremely unlikely that all of our beliefs are true. Even the ones we’ve been taught.
Scrutiny as a Professional Obligation
If we truly care about whether our beliefs are true, we must be willing to scrutinize them. We must welcome that scrutiny—not as a threat, but as a necessary tool of alignment. True beliefs will withstand that pressure. False ones will not. But only through critical examination can we know the difference.
Lest you worry that I’m veering into politics—rest assured, I’m not. That’s not my area of expertise. What I am interested in is the way this principle applies to our work in healthcare—especially in physical therapy.
The Knowledge Trap
We are all shaped—and constrained—by our knowledge base. What we believe to be important or “central” often correlates directly with what we have studied the most.
As a new graduate physical therapist, one of my most deeply held convictions was that the musculoskeletal system was the most important system in the body. It wasn’t an overtly stated belief, but a functional one: it guided my assessments, my interventions, and the questions I asked (or failed to ask).
And it made sense. I had spent nearly a decade studying the musculoskeletal system. I reinforced that belief through clinical rotations, continuing education, and a 10-month orthopedic residency program designed to prepare me for the Orthopedic Clinical Specialist (OCS) examination.
But here’s the catch: I hadn’t studied the other systems. Not in depth. So how could I be sure that my emphasis on the musculoskeletal system was well founded?
Expanding the Frame
It wasn’t until I took my first visceral course that I began to truly appreciate the complexity of the body’s interrelated systems—the nervous system, the interoceptive system, the lymphatic and vascular systems, and of course, the visceral organs. That single course called into question years of assumptions.
This isn’t unique to me. I suspect many physical therapists—and bodyworkers—operate with a similar default: musculoskeletal problems are solved by musculoskeletal solutions. But that belief, however deeply rooted, deserves to be examined. Is it true? Is it complete?
Two Choices: Refer or Grow
Bias in healthcare is not just about implicit attitudes—it’s about scope. We all practice within the bounds of what we know. That leaves us with two responsible choices:
Refer out when we reach the limits of our training.
Expand our knowledge to push beyond those limits and deliver more integrated care.
Neither path is a threat to our competence. On the contrary, both are acts of professional integrity. But both begin with a simple question:
Do you care if your beliefs are true?
If the answer is yes, then let them be tested. In that process, we become more precise, more informed, and more effective. And ultimately, our patients benefit.