The ANC’s masterclass in unconscious incompetence

Of all the forms of incompetence available on the great political buffet, none are quite as exotic, as flamboyantly served, and as proudly devoured as unconscious incompetence. This is the charming condition of not knowing what you don’t know while simultaneously insisting that you know everything.

It’s a skill. And one that the African National Congress (ANC) has perfected with the same enthusiasm it applies to cadre deployment, tender irregularities, and birthday cakes shaped like Nelson Mandela.

The Dunning-Kruger effect, as described by social psychologists David Dunning and Justin Kruger in 1999, is a cognitive bias in which those with the least competence overestimate their abilities the most. Which, frankly, explains every State of the Nation Address since 2009.

People in this category don’t just fail – they fail with confidence. They walk into disaster like it’s a red carpet premiere, flash a smile, and shake hands with the rubble.

And speaking of walking into disaster…

Enter President Cyril Ramaphosa. Stage left. Washington, DC.

There he stood, a man who seems permanently stuck in the “processing” phase, meeting United States officials to defend the ANC’s positions, including the party’s historic friendship with Russia, a relationship as old as the fax machine, and about as relevant.

There was talk of diplomacy. Of sovereignty. Of the importance of a rules-based international order. This was all done while sidestepping the awkward detail that our own house is very much on fire, the fire brigade is missing, and the last guy who had a hose now runs a consulting firm in Chicago.

To be fair, unconscious incompetence isn’t unique to the ANC. It has just elevated it to an art form. It’s embroidered into every ministerial sash and danced into every manifesto. Its ability to misunderstand complex issues is only rivalled by its ability to misunderstand simple ones. Eskom? Denel? PRASA? All victims of the same blissful unawareness.

Now, contrast that with “conscious incompetence”, which is that rare moment of clarity when someone realises they’re out of their depth. This is the point where learning can begin. But alas, self-awareness isn’t part of Luthuli House’s curriculum. The only thing it seems aware of is where the catering table is.

From there, we should theoretically ascend to “conscious competence”, where a person applies knowledge with effort and awareness. And eventually, to the mythical “unconscious competence”, where excellence becomes second nature – like Switzerland, or a teenager on TikTok changing outfits to a beat drop.

But let’s be honest: in South Africa, unconscious competence is about as likely as a pothole-free Limpopo or a loadshedding-free winter.

In the meantime, the ANC remains delightfully unaware. Like a man with a blindfold trying to play darts in a crowded room, it continues to shout, “Bullseye!” while the rest of us duck for cover.

All said, in South Africa’s case, the real danger of unconscious incompetence isn’t just the person holding the steering wheel, it’s the fact that we keep handing them the keys.