Today I woke up thinking about being more curious than judgmental, and about all the ways that can apply to how we talk to ourselves, how we talk to others, and how we process world events. I’ve heard variations of this idea a lot over the years, from Buddhist teachings to my favorite show, Ted Lasso. We often talk about curiosity as a philosophy at work to promote connection and understanding, to avoid tunnel vision, and to keep us from doing things a certain way simply because that’s how they’ve always been done.
Day-to-day, leading with curiosity has been a useful tool for handling difficult conversations. When I want to say something like, “What in the world were you thinking?” I try to shift to, “Tell me more about why…” When I catch myself judging how I handled something, I try to question rather than condemn. I’m constantly amazed by how certain we can feel, not just about our own views and motivations, but about those of others.
Why do we hold so tightly to certainty? I think part of it is that we form opinions based on our own experiences, and when we feel close to someone or share common ground, we assume they must feel the same. In that certainty, we unintentionally discount their individuality and unique experiences. I also think we cling to certainty to feel safe, especially when things feel unpredictable or when we want to believe something bad couldn’t happen to us. But that isn’t real safety. It’s often a form of denial, a story we tell ourselves to cope.
Certainty can feel like a shield that protects us from having to confront something uncomfortable or unknown. It can also keep us stuck, doing something one way because that is how it has always been done, without ever considering another approach. Over time, I have noticed that certainty can close me off, not just to other people and experiences, but to myself.
For me, connection is hard when I am focused more on being right than being open. Curiosity creates just enough space for deeper understanding to happen. It is not about giving up our values or beliefs. It is about wondering, what do I not know? What would it feel like to see this through their eyes?
At the same time, when it comes to massive, systemic issues like violence against women, racism, antisemitism, oppression, and injustice, leading with curiosity can feel insufficient or even disrespectful. It can feel like tolerating the intolerable in the name of understanding. And for me, that is not okay. There are times when judgment and certainty are necessary because they provide the moral clarity to say that this is wrong and that it has to stop.
But moving toward something better also requires understanding how we got here, not just condemning where we are.
One of the hardest tensions I have personally navigated was during my work in the intimate partner violence space. To truly eradicate intimate partner violence, we have to understand how it begins and how someone becomes a perpetrator. That requires curiosity. What we uncover is not about excusing harm. It is about staying open enough to foster progress and create meaningful change. To say this is difficult to navigate is an understatement, and I do not think there is a clean answer.
Maybe curiosity does not need to look the same in every situation. Leading with curiosity does not mean softening on injustice or cruelty. It might mean asking different questions. How did we get here? Why does this person see the world this way? What fear, pain, or misinformation is driving this? Not to excuse it, but to understand it well enough to respond in a way that actually moves the needle.
I do not have the answers. Writing about this has not resolved anything neatly. But it has opened my own thinking, and maybe it will connect with yours.
Day to day, when someone is acting in a way I do not understand, or I find myself stuck in a familiar pattern, I try to pause and ask what is beneath this story. What might I be missing? When I feel frustrated in a conversation, I take a breath and ask myself what this person really needs me to hear.
On a global level, I am trying not to get lost in constant outrage, anger, and despair. Instead, I am holding space for the idea that if enough of us can be more curious than certain at the right moments, things might shift. Maybe the place we arrive at next will be more open, more compassionate, and more humane.
It is easier on a personal, day-to-day level. Infinitely harder on a global scale. I have not figured out either. But I am trying.