When we were in school, we were fed a simple idea: “Knowledge is power.” The message was straightforward—learn more, know more, so you’re never the one sitting blank when people talk. The goal was to build enough knowledge that in any conversation, you at least understand what’s going on and can respond without feeling like the “know-nothing” person in the room.
But what we were not taught enough is this: knowledge only becomes meaningful when you stay flexible. Think of kids learning math—at school, the teacher shows one method, and at home, the father teaches another. The child resists, believing only the teacher’s way is correct. At that moment, the child feels, “I know it now, so anything else must be wrong.” That’s where learning quietly freezes.
Knowing something simply means you’re familiar with it. Believing you know everything and rejecting other perspectives—that’s the trap of rigid knowledge. But the moment you’re willing to question what you know, revisit what you’ve believed, and test your own reality—that’s when knowledge transforms into understanding.
Knowledge is Dangerous… Let’s get into it.
Pandit Rahul Kaushl puts it beautifully: Knowledge is a block of ice—solid, rigid, fixed. Understanding is water—fluid, adaptable, able to take any shape.
Knowledge can trap emotions inside it; understanding lets them move.
Picture this: you’re in a relationship. Your partner is deeply religious; you’re not. He keeps explaining why you should follow religion—the meaning, the benefits, the morality behind it. You keep explaining why you don’t, and how not following it doesn’t make you a bad human being.
Both of you are knowledgeable. Both know your reasons, your beliefs, your arguments. Yet both of you are exhausted, frustrated, misunderstood.
Why?
Because knowledge is present.
But understanding is missing.
Understanding begins the moment you start doubting your own knowledge—your fixed beliefs, your solid “block of ice.” Not to abandon them, but to allow movement, to let water flow, to see things from another shape.
When you refuse to doubt what you know, your knowledge becomes a cage.
That’s when knowledge becomes dangerous—not because knowing is wrong, but because rigidity blinds you to everything beyond it.
Real growth lives where knowledge melts into understanding.
Why Knowledge Can Become Dangerous — A Story Buddha Told
A young widower loved his five-year-old son deeply.
One day, while he was away, bandits attacked his village, burned everything, and kidnapped his child.
When the father returned, he saw the ruins and found the burnt body of a small child. Heartbroken, he thought it was his own son. He cried, held a funeral, collected the ashes, and kept them in a small velvet bag. He carried that bag everywhere. It became his only comfort.
Days later, the real son escaped from the bandits and came home.
Late at night, he reached his father’s cottage and knocked.
“Papa, it’s me. Open the door.”
But the father was still sitting with the ashes in his hands, lost in grief. He thought some boy was trying to fool him. He shouted for the child to go away. No matter how many times the boy knocked, the father refused to open the door.
Finally, the child left. They never saw each other again.
Buddha said:
When you hold on too tightly to what you believe is true, you can miss the truth even when it knocks right in front of you.
Crux
Holding on to knowledge too tightly stops real understanding. To understand, you have to be willing to drop what you already know. It’s like climbing a ladder—if you cling proudly to the fifth step thinking you’ve reached the top, you’ll never take the sixth. Growth only happens when you let go. In Buddhism, understanding comes from releasing fixed ideas, not guarding them. Only by letting go can you rise beyond what you already think is true.
