You’ve seen it. It’s that viral spark that started with a World Down Syndrome Day campaign, but it’s actually mutated into something much bigger than a single hashtag. It’s a psychological gut-punch. Assume that i can so maybe i will isn’t just a catchy phrase for a commercial; it’s a direct challenge to the "Self-Fulfilling Prophecy" theory that sociologists have been obsessing over since the 1940s.
Honestly, we do this thing where we "protect" people by lowering the bar. We do it to kids, we do it to colleagues, and we definitely do it to ourselves. We assume someone can't handle a project, so we don't give it to them. Then, because they never got the chance to try, they never develop the skill. See the loop? It’s a cycle of low expectations that creates a reality of low achievement.
The Science of the Pygmalion Effect
Back in the 60s, a Harvard professor named Robert Rosenthal did this wild experiment in a California elementary school. He told teachers that certain students were "academic spurters" who were about to have a huge intellectual breakthrough. Here’s the kicker: those kids were chosen completely at random. There was nothing special about them.
But because the teachers assumed these kids were bright, they treated them differently. They gave them more feedback. They smiled at them more. They pushed them harder.
By the end of the year, those "random" kids actually had higher IQ scores.
That’s the core of assume that i can so maybe i will. When the environment assumes competence, the individual often meets it. It’s not magic. It’s signaling. If you treat me like I’m capable of running a marathon, you’ll talk to me about training, nutrition, and pacing. If you assume I’m a couch potato, you’ll talk to me about Netflix. Your assumption dictates the information I receive and the opportunities I'm offered.
Breaking the Negative Feedback Loop
Most of us are walking around in a "Golem Effect" fog. That’s the opposite of Pygmalion. It’s when low expectations lead to a decrease in performance.
Think about the last time a boss micromanaged you. They assumed you couldn’t do the task without constant oversight. What did you do? You probably checked out. You stopped taking initiative. You did the bare minimum because, well, why bother? You fulfilled their assumption.
The campaign "Assume That I Can" featured Madison Tevlin, and it went nuclear because it called out this specific brand of "kind" discrimination. People assume someone with Down Syndrome can't drink a cocktail, so the bartender doesn't offer the menu. The result? The person doesn't drink the cocktail. Not because they couldn't, but because the opportunity was pre-emptively removed.
It’s a subtle form of erasure.
Why "Maybe I Will" is the Most Important Part
The phrase doesn't say "Assume that I can and I definitely will." That would be fake positivity. Life isn’t a Disney movie.
The "maybe" is where the agency lives.
It’s about the possibility of success being allowed to exist. When you remove the ceiling, you don’t guarantee someone will fly, but you finally make it an option.
I’ve seen this in fitness circles a lot. A trainer assumes a client can’t do a pull-up because of their body type. They don't even put them on the bar. The client never gets the chance to fail, which means they never get the chance to get stronger. But the moment that trainer says, "Let's see what happens if we try a negative rep," the assumption shifts.
Suddenly, the "maybe" is on the table.
The Cost of Low Expectations
We talk a lot about the "soft bigotry of low expectations." It sounds like a political talking point, but it’s a daily reality in schools and offices.
- In tech, it looks like not asking a junior dev for input on architecture.
- In families, it’s "protecting" a sibling from a difficult conversation.
- In your own head, it’s saying "I’m not a math person" before you even open the spreadsheet.
Every time we make these assumptions, we are essentially voting for a smaller version of the world. We’re trimming the edges off what’s possible before the day even starts.
How to Apply "Assume That I Can" Without Being Toxic
There is a fine line here. You don’t want to be the person who assumes a paralyzed person can suddenly walk just because you’re "positive." That’s not what this is.
It’s about assuming competence and agency.
It’s assuming that a person knows their own limits better than you do. Instead of deciding for them what they can't do, you provide the tools and get out of the way.
Start with Your Internal Dialogue
You have to be your own first "assumer."
If you’re staring at a new career path or a difficult conversation, your brain is likely screaming "You can't do this." That’s the old software.
Try a different prompt: assume that i can so maybe i will.
If you assumed you could learn to code, what would you do today? You’d probably bookmark a tutorial. You wouldn't be a senior engineer by 5 PM, but you’d be in the game. That’s the "maybe." You’re giving yourself a non-zero chance of success.
Real-World Impact: Education and Employment
There are schools now that are intentionally flipping the script. Instead of "remedial" tracks that keep kids in a basement of low expectations, they use "accelerated" models. They assume the kid can handle the high-level material but just needs a different bridge to get there.
The results are usually staggering.
In the workplace, companies like SAP and Microsoft have neurodiversity programs that start with the assumption of high-value skill sets rather than the assumption of "disability support." They don't hire people to be charitable; they hire them because they assume they have a specific cognitive edge.
When you change the assumption from "How can we help this person get through the day?" to "What can this person contribute that no one else can?", the output changes entirely.
What Happens When We Fail?
This is the scary part. If we assume someone can, and they fail, does that mean the assumption was wrong?
No.
Failure is part of the "maybe."
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The dignity of risk is a concept often discussed in disability advocacy. It’s the idea that every human has the right to take risks and even to fail. When we "assume someone can't," we are stealing their right to fail. We are keeping them in a padded room of safety where nothing ever grows.
If you assume I can, and I try and I tank it, at least I know. I have the data. I can pivot. If you never assume I can, I’m stuck in a limbo of "what if" forever.
Actionable Steps to Flip the Script
You can actually practice this. It’s a muscle.
First, identify one person in your life you’ve been "protecting." Maybe it’s a coworker you don’t delegate to, or a friend you think is too "fragile" for the truth. Stop. For one week, act as if they are fully capable of handling the task or the news.
Second, watch your language. Replace "You probably can't..." or "I don't want to overwhelm you with..." with "Here is the goal, how do you want to tackle it?"
Third, do it to yourself. Pick that one thing you’ve sidelined because you "know" you aren't good at it. Assume, just for a second, that you actually could be good at it. What’s the very first step an "able" person would take? Do that one thing.
The goal isn't to become a superhero. It’s to stop being the villain in your own story—the one who cuts the protagonist off before they even get to the inciting incident.
Assume that i can so maybe i will is a philosophy of permission. It’s giving people, including yourself, the permission to occupy space, to take risks, and to surprise the hell out of everyone.
Start by auditing your assumptions today. Who are you holding back with your "kindness"? What are you denying yourself because you've already written the ending? Flip the premise. Assume the best. See what happens when the "maybe" finally has room to breathe.