Error error, being wrong about something we thought was right, is part of every path to knowledge. We observe. We infer. We believe. Sometimes we are right. Sometimes we are wrong. Error is not a shame. It is a signal. It says: something in our picture of the world does not fit. Now we must adjust. First, we notice that our expectation was not met. We thought the bridge would hold; it did not. We thought the plant needed less water; it died. We thought our friend would agree; they did not. That mismatch is the moment of error. If we ignore it, we stay wrong. If we face it, we can correct. How do we correct? We look again. We ask what we missed. We consider other explanations. We try a different action and see what happens. Correction is not automatic. It takes honesty and effort. But without it, error piles up. Beliefs that never get tested become superstitions. Practices that never get revised become dangerous. So error is not the opposite of knowledge. It is a step on the way. The question is not whether we will err. We will. The question is whether we will notice, learn, and change. When a community makes room for admitting error and correcting it, continuity of knowledge stays healthy. When did you last discover you were wrong? What did you do next?