Categories
Curiosity

Hunting for the “Why”

I’ve spent a lot of time watching people—myself included—hit what feels like a glass ceiling. We often chalk it up to a lack of “natural talent” or the missing spark of genius. We look at the high-flyers in our industry and assume they were born with a blueprint we never received. But lately, I’ve realized that the most successful people I know aren’t necessarily the ones with the highest IQ; they’re the ones who simply never stopped asking why.

Bill Gurley puts a name to this:

“The thing that will differentiate you more in your career than anything else is being the most hyper-curious person.”

For me, curiosity isn’t a personality trait; it’s an appetite. It’s that itch in the back of your brain when something doesn’t quite make sense. Hyper-curiosity is the willingness to be the “annoying” person who asks for the raw data or the one who stays up an hour late following a rabbit hole that has nothing to do with tomorrow’s to-do list—and everything to do with how the world actually works.

We live in an age where the “ivory tower” has been dismantled. The walls are down.

“I can’t make you the most talented person in your company or your field, but you have no excuse not to be the most knowledgeable person. The information is all out there.”

This hits hard because it removes our favorite excuse: “I just wasn’t born for this.” It shifts the weight from our DNA to our discipline. I’ve found that the moment I stop being a passive consumer and start being a hunter of information, my world gets bigger. Knowledge is the only asset that doesn’t depreciate; in fact, it compounds.

When you commit to being the most curious person in the room, you aren’t just “doing well.” You are building a life in high-definition.

“If you are the most curious person constantly learning in your field, you will do extremely well.”

But beyond the “doing well,” there’s a deeper peace that comes with it. You realize that you don’t need to be the smartest person in the room—you just need to be the one most willing to learn from it.

Categories
Creativity Curiosity Living Work

The Human Router

There is a distinct difference between information and wisdom, and often, that difference is measured in velocity. We are accustomed to thinking that faster is better—fiber optic cables, 5G, real-time Slack notifications. We want knowledge to travel at the speed of light.

But Dan Wang, in his book Breakneck, captures a sociological truth about Silicon Valley that defies this obsession with speed:

“When I worked in Silicon Valley, people liked to say that knowledge travels at the speed of beer. Engineers like to talk to each other to solve technical problems, which is how knowledge diffuses.”

It is a charming, slightly irreverent metric, but it points to something profound about how humans solve difficult problems. There is “codified knowledge”—the explicit instructions found in textbooks, API documentation, and internal wikis. This travels instantly. It is frictionless. It is also, usually, insufficient for true innovation.

Then there is “tacit knowledge.” This is the intuition, the heuristic, the war story about why a specific architecture failed three years ago. This knowledge is heavy. It doesn’t travel through fiber optics; it travels through proximity. It requires the social friction of a shared table and the serendipitous collision of two engineers venting about a seemingly unrelated problem.

Crucially, this mechanism requires a specific type of operator: the Connector. These are the unsung heroes of the “speed of beer” economy. They aren’t always the 10x engineers on the leaderboard. They are the “human routers”—the people who instinctively know that the problem you are facing today is the same one Sarah from the Platform team solved last year. They are the ones who drag the introverted genius out to the pub, not to distract them, but to plug them into the grid. They curate the environment where the spark can jump the gap.

In our modern drive for remote efficiency, we are optimizing for the transfer of data. But we must be careful not to optimize away the people who pour the drinks, literal or metaphorical. That slow, liquid diffusion of ideas is often where the real breakthrough hides—steered by those special few who know exactly who needs to talk to whom.

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Curiosity

The Neutral Ground of Curiosity

We live in a time that demands certainty. We are constantly pressured to have a stance, to pick a team, to decide—right now—whether something is good or bad, right or wrong. It is exhausting. It feels like standing in a courtroom where you are forced to be both the lawyer and the judge.

But there is a quieter, more fertile ground we can stand on. Rick Rubin, writing in The Creative Act, describes it like this:

“The heart of open-mindedness is curiosity. Curiosity doesn’t take sides or insist on a single way of doing things. It explores all perspectives. Always open to new ways, always seeking to arrive at original insights.”

I love the idea that curiosity “doesn’t take sides.” It implies that curiosity is a neutral party. It isn’t there to win an argument; it is there to understand the argument.

When we approach the world with judgment, our vision narrows. We look for evidence that confirms what we already believe. But when we approach the world with curiosity, the lens widens. We stop asking, “Is this right?” and start asking, “What is this?”

Rubin reminds us that the goal isn’t to be correct; the goal is to be original. And you cannot arrive at an original insight if you are walking the same worn path of binary thinking. You have to be willing to wander off the trail, to listen to the opposing view not to defeat it, but to learn the shape of it.

I remind myself to try to drop the gavel. To stop judging the events of my day and simply witness them. To be the explorer, not the jury. Oh, and along the way, embrace serendipity!

I’m reminded of a couple of friends and colleagues. One seems to listen briefly but rapidly reach a black/white conclusion. Another seems to always want to explore further, asking questions to go deeper. One is much more enjoyable to be around. The other a lot less so! Which one can I be? Which one am I?

Categories
Curiosity Living Serendipity

Curiosity

One of my mantras is “seek serendipity but distrust it” – closely related to curiosity. Looking back on my life I realize just how curiosity has been a power force. Mostly for good but not always. Something to ponder a bit more.