You can get dogmatic when it feels like Limbo. Tie yourself into knots, become like a rabid creature, then you realize the vitally important point you were trying to make was an error. But it's all too late, so you got to start looking around for reasons however mindless to preserve your sense of Pride. Or you can just say "I was wrong, I behaved like a ...." whatever you can manage this side of Blasphemy. And it's securing the distinction between real and unreal that remains critical to what's loosely referred to as progress, or a more harmonious and cheerful discordance. There are facts, but there are also deceits. In the end the difference is motive, what you're trying to prove and more important why. Too proud to admit a mistake, too dumb to, or the always forgivable honest search for enlightenment...
There used to be a Cardinal Sin that was given the name Vainglory. A lovely
word, but which as a result of a desire by the holy fathers to simplify the
growing number of Cardinal Sins by getting rid of the more obviously appalling
examples of truly nasty behavior, Pope Gregory melded Vainglory into Pride.
Vainglory is like the very top end of Pride, the gold standard if you will, it's
the "I only bathe in Donkey Milk" level. The level is such that no one in their
right mind would take the behavior as anything other than highly suspect, unless
they saw something they wanted from the behavior and have become seducers and
panderers which by Dante's reckoning put's them right down there in the eighth
circle of hell where the seducers and panderers take their turn to get poked
with sticks for eternity. The lowest circle, the ninth circle, nine is a four
and a five, is would you believe, treachery. Oh what a tangled web....