Principle 6: Questions can exist without answers, but answers can’t exist without questions.
To say I was a curious kid is an understatement. I know, I know - every kid's baseline is curiosity. After all, you know nothing (do we ever?). Everything is new, novel, interesting and an adventure in understanding. But, when you pull-apart every single present your parents gave you (sorry Buzz Lightyear and firetruck), and immediately ask: how does this work? Then, you know you’re pretty curious. Otherwise, you just have to take my word for it.
Humans are weird. We start, like little Kirun, impressionable but ever curious. The question stem of “why” is the start of a nightmare song on repeat for your parents. But there’s beauty in this. Of a child’s face lighting up, or the proverbial penny dropping when novelty strikes them. For there is a gap - a gap between what they don’t know, what they do know and what, eventually, they’d like to know. What follows is a cascade of synaptic leaps, of new neurons wiring and firing together that catalyses learning. Children in their purest form hold no assumptions of the world, because there are none. It’s the epitome of a beginner’s mindset.
But then, we grow up.
The things around us don’t change as much as what we pay attention to. We form our subjective worldview - a repository of beliefs, attitudes, understandings, behaviours, biases and heuristics - that help us navigate the world. We go through school, where the modus operandi is to seek answers to questions. Getting things “right” dominates any sense of intellectual curiosity. A curiosity that’s paramount in self-discovery.
We then become more risk-averse, careful to conform and “fit in”. And by the time we enter the workforce, have kids, tick off society’s checklist of things a human should do, we have all but lost our child-like wonder. The questions, it seems, have been replaced with answers. Answers that seldom change and become universal truths, to us.
It’s in my experience that life doesn’t stale if you continue to ask questions. And the answers to those questions create more unintended, and downstream questions. It’s not about creating a false dichotomy of right or wrong, true or untrue and it’s not about etching certainties. I believe it is about continuing to find and explore possibilities, so we can imagine the future and make it happen.
I’ve compiled a list of deliberate practices I do that work for me. Try them out for yourself.
Deliberate Practice 1
I’m constantly on the lookout for questions. Whether it’s reading a book, listening to a podcast interview, being a board observer [1], conversations with friends. Pretty much any interaction where an exchange of information is taking place, is a legitimate goldmine for questions. It’s why I have a question bank that houses all of these questions. It’s currently 100+ pages with close to 800 questions. I add to it daily, group questions and come back to them when I do structured reflection, prepare for podcast interviews and have conversations with my friends.
Deliberate Practice 2
I have a wacky annotation system when I read. Most people underline key points, and write down the thoughts that inspire them. What is the most common annotation I make? Q. Hint: Q stands for question. I seldom write out statements or summaries. I try my best to summarise a thought I have in an open question. A question that I’ll likely remember and put in my question bank. When I see that question again, the answer always falls out.
Deliberate Practice 3
My journal is a kaleidoscope of thoughts. It’s my avenue to have a dialogue with myself and you guessed it, ask myself questions.
All my journal entries have the same structure:
What am I thinking about?
What emotions am I feeling?
What am I curious about?
Even when a new idea or thought or emotion pops up, I’ll note down the question that spurs me towards that state.
It’s my ritual of asking myself questions, of introspection, which primes me to do the same when I interact with other people and the world around me.
The question I’d ask you (yes, this is pseudo-inception) is: what questions are you asking yourself right now?
Keep asking questions until you find the right question [2]. Then find the right problem. Find the right problem, and you’ll continue to find the right questions. A question…flywheel in full effect. Hello relentless, enduring and effective curiosity.
Notes
[1] In my experience, the “smartest” people have a tendency to ask the most penetrating questions. They do this by being still. And then search, probe and collect information until the root question reveals itself. They then deliver the punch question, and BOOM. Insights galore.
[2] The sequence of questions you ask is just as, if not more important, than the initial question you ask. If questions are your shovel, then asking them - in sequence - is when you’re digging. You need to dig a lot to find gold.
