The Opposite of Curiosity

I am en route to the gym and send a quick text to the group of people competing at Monster Games. "Heading to work on shuttle runs. Been watching footwork drills."

A few weeks ago, the organizers of the competition, which we'll all be at in late July, let everyone know that every competitor, ages 18 to 70, would be completing the NFL Combine events, including the 5-10-5 shuttle run.

On paper, it's a simple drill. You start in the middle, run 5 yards to one side, touch a line, run 10 yards back across the middle to the other side, touch a line, and then sprint back through the middle. I used to practice the drill all the time in high school, but I hadn't tried it in over 10 years. To get a competitive time, I was going to need to remind my feet how to move laterally with that sort of intensity.

Luke texts back in the group, "Same. Need to figure out the steps."

Then Allen texts, "Cute lol," and I shake my head. I guess he doesn't see the value in practicing.

I arrive first and measure out the 5-10-5 distances. The rest of the crew arrives shortly after. Luke and I start watching a YouTube video laying out tips for the drill. Allen walks up and says, "I'm not sure what the video is going to be able to tell you that I can't. I literally coach this stuff."

I lose my patience and sarcastically retort, "Oh, I'm Allen. I know everything there is to know about shuttle runs, more than the ENTIRE INTERNET, so no video could ever teach me anything."

I'm not proud of how I reacted, but it was effective in ending the conversation. I also stand by the point I was trying to make.

Most people believe the opposite of curiosity is apathy or indifference. I don't think that's true. I think the opposite of curiosity is certainty.

The moment we believe we already have all the information we need is the moment we stop looking for more. We stop asking questions, stop seeking new perspectives, and stop leaving room for the possibility that we might be wrong.

Organizational psychologist Adam Grant encourages us to have "strong opinions, weakly held." In other words, have convictions, but remain willing to learn.

The consequences of certainty are significant. When we assume an attitude of certainty, two things happen.

We stop asking questions.

Without questions, our growth stalls. We become content with what we already know instead of remaining open to what we have yet to learn.

We become less empathetic.

Curiosity asks, "I wonder what's going on."

Certainty says, "I know exactly why they did that."

Without empathy, our ability to care begins to fade.

Maybe the YouTube video had nothing new to teach us. Maybe Allen did have the same answers. But I wasn't willing to risk showing up on competition day without turning over every rock that might have something useful underneath.

The consequences of certainty usually aren't felt until it's too late. We look back and wish we'd asked one more question, listened a little longer, or considered another perspective.

Curiosity doesn't guarantee you'll always find a better answer. It simply keeps you from believing you've already found the best one.

Fact

Research has consistently found that intellectual humility, the willingness to recognize that we might be wrong, is associated with greater openness to learning, stronger relationships, and better decision-making. People who remain curious are more likely to update their beliefs when presented with new evidence.

Action

Before making your next assumption, ask one follow-up question.

Question

Where in your life have you replaced curiosity with certainty?

Quote

"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing."

- Albert Einstein