"I have tried to know absolutely nothing about a great many things, and I have succeeded fairly well"

Robert Benchley’s assertion is an ironic, self-aware reflection on the limits of personal knowledge, casting a humorous light on human intellectual humility. Rather than boasting about expertise or wisdom, Benchley flips the concept of achievement on its head by expressing “success” in deliberate ignorance. This tongue-in-cheek confession suggests he has managed to avoid learning about a variety of topics, an achievement in itself, according to his satirical tone.

The humor rests on the exaggeration of the natural human tendency to encounter gaps in knowledge. Everyone, regardless of intellect or experience, is ignorant about countless subjects. Benchley, rather than expressing regret or insecurity about his ignorance, treats it as intentional, turning deficiency into a playful badge of honor. This reversal pokes fun at both societal expectations of expertise and our own self-importance regarding what we know or don’t know.

Benchley’s wit also gently critiques the pressure to be well-informed or well-rounded in all areas of life. In a world that often values being a polymath, he introduces the notion that not knowing, remaining blissfully unaware, is both easy and, perhaps, a survival strategy. His words invite us to find comfort in our limitations, undermining any shame attached to ignorance and suggesting, through humor, that we’re all “successful” ignoramuses in one way or another.

Underlying the sarcasm is a subtle reflection on curiosity and intellectual humility. By acknowledging his own unknowing, Benchley models a playful acceptance of human imperfection. Instead of striving for unattainable omniscience or stressing over his blind spots, he laughs at them, and in doing so, he encourages others not to take themselves too seriously when confronted with their own areas of ignorance. There’s a liberating message: it’s not only normal to know nothing about many things, it can also be quite enjoyable.