You know them: trainers who, after a course or a few successful trainings, say with conviction how it should be done. "This is the way!" or "You just have to..." is what they say. They speak with such certainty, shout the loudest of all that they have the solution, that you would almost believe that they have the truth. This is the Dunning-Kruger effect in action: people with little knowledge overestimate themselves, simply because they do not know enough to recognize their own shortcomings. And you see that a lot with novice trainers.

You often see that beginning trainers blindly copy exercises from others or from their own sports past. What worked for them must be the best, right? They get attached to certain methods and drills, without asking themselves whether they are effective for everyone.

Exercises that always seemed to work in the beginning suddenly don't. What seems like a golden move for one athlete doesn't work at all for another. Tactics that sound in theory sometimes fall apart completely in practice. Novice trainers who cling to their first experiences of success, or the methods of others, soon find that the reality of giving training is more complex than they thought.

The more you learn as a trainer, the more often you encounter exceptions, nuances and contradictions. You come to realise that there is no one “right” method, and that what works for one athlete does not necessarily work for another. You learn to doubt your own assumptions and to be open to new ideas.

And then something interesting happens: you become less assertive. Where you used to shout “This always works!”, you now say something like “Let’s see what works here.” Not because you have no knowledge, but precisely because you have so much knowledge that you have begun to see its limits. This is the reverse Dunning-Kruger effect: the more you know, the more you realize how much you don’t know yet. You are not only open to feedback, but actively seek it out. You reflect critically on your own actions, are prepared to adjust your approach and continue to search for new knowledge and insights. Mistakes become learning moments instead of evidence of failure.

Centuries ago, Socrates summed up this realization: “I know that I know nothing.” His modesty stands in stark contrast to the hubris of some novice trainers.

So if a trainer is nuanced and asks questions instead of giving absolute answers, listen carefully. Chances are you’re dealing with someone who really understands their craft and knows the limits of their own knowledge. That trainer has probably gone through a long road of trial and error and has only gotten better because of it.

Stay critical of yourself, be open to new ideas and dare to doubt. Only then can you grow as a trainer and really help your athletes to reach their full potential.