Rekindling Your Curiosity

Thinking about: Your life

Curiosity is the desire to know more about something. You might be curious about profound matters, such as the origin of life on earth and whether God exists, but most of your curiosity is likely directed at mundane matters, such as who won the big game and whether there are any leftovers in the refrigerator.

In your infancy, you were intensely curious. Before you could talk, you explored your environment by tasting your way through it. This might have included tasting your toes, the leg of a table, and even the ear of the family pet. At age two, when you gained limited speaking ability, you had an insatiable desire to know what things were called. During a walk, your parents might have heard “Wassat?”—the elided version of “What’s that”—a dozen times. After asking several hundred of these questions, a new question might have formed in your mind—does everything have a name?—and in your attempt to answer it, you would have asked even more questions. At age three, your curiosity about what things were called would have transitioned into curiosity about how and why things happen.

In your childhood, you were an information sponge. Your parents knew that an active curiosity is normal in children, and that by answering your questions, they could nurture your mind. But as you got smarter and your questions got harder, their response changed. You might have asked a simple question, like where rocks come from, only to have them duck it. At that point, it might have dawned on you that the grown-ups who had previously seemed omniscient were in fact a bit shallow. They didn’t even know where rocks come from!

By age ten, a child’s curiosity has likely withered. Those who at age two asked a hundred questions a day now rarely ask them. This is in part because the people around them—their parents, peers, and even teachers—won’t know the answer, but another factor is at play. Asking a question is an admission that they don’t know something, and they worry that this admission will cause their peers to look down on them. It’s therefore socially advantageous to act as if they already know everything worth knowing. Anyone who has spent time with a teenager has witnessed this phenomenon.

By the time they reach adulthood, many people can be politely described as incurious. Their curiosity isn’t dead; it’s just very much suppressed. They might retain and openly express their curiosity about friends, relatives, celebrities, and local events, as well as about things that affect them in daily life, such as how late a store is open. After all, they wouldn’t want to make a pointless trip. But they will be blissfully ignorant of the latest scientific discoveries, and might prefer to stay in the dark about current events—in part because they might find them upsetting.

According to my mother, I was born curious and as a child was always asking questions. When I was a teenager and in my early adulthood, that curiosity—or at least my expression of it—waned, but in my forties, the fire of curiosity rekindled and has since become intense. I ask lots of questions. I strike up conversations with complete strangers in part so I can ask them questions. On tours, I routinely ask more questions than the other participants combined. And during the Q&A period of a presentation, I might ask questions that I suspect other attendees would have asked if they didn’t feel awkward doing so. I ask questions because it is an easy and effective way to learn new things.

A Thinker’s mind, as we have seen, will be open to new ideas, and in conjunction with their mind-expansion regimen, they will make a point of encountering them. If a Thinker is innately curious, this will come naturally; indeed, it will take conscious effort to suppress their curiosity. Suppose, however, that although you want to become a Thinker, you aren’t particularly curious. All is not lost! With effort, you can probably rekindle the curiosity you used to have. In much the same way, with effort you can probably regain the physical fitness that you used to have—not all of it, to be sure, but enough to make a difference in your life.

Sixty years ago—when I was a child—rekindling your curiosity would have taken time and effort. You would have had to obtain books and magazines to read. If you had instead watched television, you would have been sorely disappointed, since at that time television was—in the words of Newton N. Minow, chairman of the U.S. Federal Communications Commission—“a vast wasteland.”

Thanks to the advent of the internet, a number of curiosity-stimulating resources are readily available—and for free!

• On YouTube, you can find lots of junk and misinformation, but probe carefully and you will discover wonderful documentaries and interviews. You can also find programs that cover national and world news from diverse perspectives. Some of the most educational and rewarding YouTube programs are the result of a YouTuber scratching the itch of curiosity.

• In the podcast ecosystem you can find—again with a bit of careful probing—shows that, besides filling you in about a topic, leave you hungry for more information. Among them are the Thinker podcasts that I have praised in another post. Realize that these podcasts can be listened to while you are engaged in an activity that would otherwise be mindless. You can, in particular, listen while driving, shopping, or waiting in the doctor’s office.

• AI platforms are another valuable resource. I have lately found them to be wonderful intellectual companions. Yes, they make mistakes, but far fewer than they used to. Furthermore, when they make an error, they readily acknowledge as much—something most people are reluctant to do. An extended AI chat is like taking a walk with an egoless polymath who not only tolerates questions but invites them.

• And not to be forgotten, there is Substack. I’ve heard that with a bit of effort, you can find posts that encourage more and better thinking. Seriously!