The Curious Mind

Or, How to Save Yourself From Being a Jerk

A quote from the very popular AppleTV+ series Ted Lasso hangs on the dry-erase board in my office. The line takes place in a British pub, just after one of the villains from the show—Rupert Mannion—challenges Ted to a round of darts. Ted, the hapless American football coach who moves to England to lead a fútbol squad, isn’t one to make grand bets out of pride, but he accepts the wager because he know it will help a friend.

Rupert, confident in his dart-throwing abilities, fully expects to wipe the floor with Ted. And by the end of the game, it certainly seems like he will—Ted’s against the ropes and needs three perfect throws to snatch victory from the fire.

A victory, he sandwiches with a speech:

“You know Rupert, guys have underestimated me my entire life. And for years I never understood why—it used to really bother me. But then one day I was driving my little boy to school, and I saw this quote by Walt Whitman—it was painted on the wall there and it said, ‘Be curious, not judgmental.’ I like that.”

(Ted throws a dart and nails a triple 20.)

“So I get back in my car and I’m driving to work, and all of a sudden it hits me—all them fellas that used to belittle me, not a single one of them was curious. You know, they thought they had everything all figured out, and so they judged everything, and they judged everyone. And I realized that their underestimating me—who I was had nothing to do with it. Because if they were curious, they would’ve asked questions. You know, questions like, ‘Have you played a lot of darts, Ted?’”

(Ted throws a second dart, hitting another triple 20.)

“To which I would have answered, ‘Yes sir. Every Sunday afternoon at a sports bar with my father from age ten until I was 16 when he passed away.’ Barbecue sauce.”

(Ted throws a bullseye, winning the game.)

Most jerks, most gossips, most of the people we complain about on a weekly or daily basis are the opposite of curious. The believe they have “everything figured out.” They may not say this, but they live like it. They only think about themselves, they look down on others, and overestimate their abilities, their discernment, and their own ideas.

Curious people are the opposite. They reserve making conclusions about a person until they know them. Even then, they refrain from judging too harshly, realizing that they themselves have faults as well. They protect themselves from harmful individuals—creating proper boundaries—but do so realizing that most individuals need more grace than condemnation.

Studies have shown that curious people are more likely to accomplish their goals and generally experience higher well-being.¹ Life shouldn’t simply be about succeeding in a Tony Robbins-esque “follow your dreams” way, but being curious can help you be a better friend, parent, and spouse. Those are good goals.

Someone who is not curious won’t be interested in learning from others. In fact, people who are not curious will often turn their noses up at their friends when they do things differently than them. Curious people are the opposite. They are generally interested in how their parents raised a large family on a small budget, how their friends manage to keep their kids off of smartphones, and what their neighbors do at work everyday. They may not agree with the way these activities are done, but they are open to learning. They are also open to changing their mind, knowing that pride—not others—is usually their worst enemy. “I know we allow our pre-teen on Instagram, but instead of brushing off concerns from a friend, I am open to altering my perspective.”

Curious people also enjoy learning about the world God created. They spend less time following the exploits of celebrities and mindlessly scrolling on social media, and put their hands and minds to work exploring history, design, nature, and art.²

They do this in a number of different ways. No strict blueprint exists for curious people. It’s said that C.S. Lewis had once took J.R.R. Tolkien on a walking tour, but that it had been a failure because of how much The Lord of the Rings author slowed him down. Lewis observed nature by seeing as much as possible, often moving quickly through the countryside. Tolkien made painfully slow pace, stopping to study individual twigs and plants. Lewis chose the wide angle lens; Tolkien the close up shot.³

There are many ways to be curious. Some choose one subject at a time and observe every leaf along the way. Others have a pile of books on their shelf that they swear they’re going to finish this next month. Really this time. Some people know the species of every tree they pass on their morning walk or have memorized the migratory habits of the red-faced warblers in their area. And then there are others who point out the grade of the road based on the little black patches of oil spilled by jilted cars.

Personally, I like reading books on subjects as random as the banana trade, the ways trees communicate with each other, man-eating tigers in Russia, and the creation of Disneyland. But I envy people who know the why stars twinkle, can take a radio apart and put it back together, have the ability to explain quantum mechanics in layman’s terms, and can diagnose an electrical problem in mere minutes.

Over the years, I’ve noticed that being curious about the world often spills over to being curious about other people. In my opinion—and this is based purely on limited experience—people who are curious about the world around them are often more welcoming and generous toward others. Curiosity gets us out of our own headspace. We tend to see ourselves as part of a bigger world, and not as little gods at the center of our own existence. The key is not necessarily to know a lot per say, but to keep growing. Don’t let curiosity end.

Are you curious?

Whatever our preference, we must all be curious about others. Not in a “gossipy” sense, but in a “I want to see you” sense. You won’t learn anything new from talking about yourself, but you will learn something new by hearing someone else talk about themselves.⁴ You could relive a funny joke you told someone, or you could hear a new joke for the first time. Talk about yourself, but make it a point to talk about yourself less.

So do this over the next few days. Find something that you’ve always wanted to know (Why does condensation gather around a cold mug? What makes a sunset extra-orange or pink on some days?) and learn about it. Tell your kids to get off of electronics, and read or explore outside. Do something difficult.

Next, make it a point to learn something new about everyone you talk to this week. Recently, I came across this piece of advice: “When you go to a party, think about putting others at ease. Focus entirely on how others might be feeling. Do something nice for someone else. Stop thinking about yourself.”⁵

Then, when you do these things, tell yourself: “That’s a good reminder that I don’t know everything about everything, everyone, or every situation. I have a lot to learn—if I’m humble enough to admit it.”

Oh, and be careful when betting on darts.

1. David Robson, The Intelligence Trap: Why Smart People Make Dumb Mistakes (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2019), 173.

2. I want to be clear, most of the “curiosity” we see these days involves plugging our brains into Wikipedia, YouTube, and social media. I’m not talking about that. I use these platforms, but we must be careful we aren’t addicted to bite size snacking that closes us off to ourselves, the physical world, and others. Don’t use this type of “curiosity” to numb or disconnect yourself from life.

3. You can observe these perspectives in their published works. Lewis threw Father Christmas into Narnia. Tolkien never saw a leaf he couldn’t describe in detail.

4. One exception is that you may realize or learn something about yourself that you failed to notice before. That’s why it’s important to talk about your feelings, hurts, and fears with others. Don’t think I’m telling you not to talk about yourself. Just don’t overwhelm the conversation. When you share your life with other people, and they share their life with you, something magical happens. But both need to happen!

5. Abigail Shrier, Bad Therapy: Why the Kids Aren’t Growing Up (New York: Sentinel, 2024), 153. Here, she quotes Jordan Peterson.