People tend to think that if you admit you were wrong about something it means you were 1) wrong about everything, and 2) that if you disagreed with them on what you admit you were wrong about, this means that they were right all along.

This though made me recall a passage I read years ago:

If one wishes to praise at all, it is a delicate and at the same time a noble self-control, to praise only where one does not agree… To be able to allow oneself this veritable luxury of taste and morality, one must not live among intellectual imbeciles, but rather among men whose misunderstandings and mistakes amuse by their refinement — or one will have to pay dearly for it! — “He praises me, therefore he acknowledges me to be right” — this asinine method of inference spoils half of the life of us recluses, for it brings the asses into our neighborhood and friendship.

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We can — and invariably do — use our own errors as leverage against other errors.

To recognize that we were erroneous only means we need to discover new fulcra if we are to continue our work.