Curiosity Doesn't Kill Cats
…let's not kill our curiosity.
“No man becomes a fool until he has stopped asking questions.” – Charles Proteus Steinmetz
You may have heard the English idiom, ‘Curiosity killed the cat’. It was supposedly born from a 1598 play, written as “care’ll kill a cat”, which sounds a strange sentiment, and certainly not one destined as an RSPCA strapline. Its intended meaning was ‘mind your own business’, but as language shifted over time, the idiom attached itself to a different message, leaving a poor legacy to one of the greatest tools in our mental utility belt - curiosity. (not a cat).
As a child, I remember this being as a stock one-liner my parents would say, likely around my 107th ‘Whyyyy?’. Its implied message was ‘don’t ask questions’, which to a developing mind is like being asked to go and isolate in the dark (just like the dreaded bedtime!)
We understand that curiosity in children is natural and healthy. But it seems that the older we get, the less value we place on its fundamental role in our social and emotional intelligence. Kids ask questions with an insatiable appetite for learning - everything from “Why isn’t Grandma moving?” to “Why don’t dogs get married?”, in order to make sense of the world. At peace with uncertainty, they’re comfortable in their questioning, their vantage point of not being expected to know anything gifting them glorious entitlement to be wrong. They don't need to have all the answers, that’s the job of the adults. But as our childhood shifts into the ever-receding past, we’re encumbered with a sense that by a certain age we should know what’s what.
Ironically, it’s our need to have all the answers which probably results in us having very few. By focussing on the outcome rather than the investigation, we’re more likely to cling to evidence in most easy reach to construct our narrative. Defining ‘knowledge’ sooner. Soothed by the idea that we have it all solved. This lack of excavation when applied externally can lead to prejudice or bigotry, and internally underpins most of our emotional misregulation.
When I first started my training, there was great importance placed on curiosity from day one. Its psychological value being that it creates room for humility, compassion and creative exploration - qualities we naturally engaged with as children. In practise, this might be the simple act of noticing thoughts or emotions without attaching judgement to them. The scientist of our psyche working with its data. It’s helped me better understand certain interpersonal dynamics. Like a previous work colleague who, for reasons I couldn’t quite understand, used to irritate me to the point of distraction. My inner critic chastised me for disliking her, but despite trying to change my attitude, I couldn’t seem to escape the fact that she just really ground my gears! When I reflected on this with renewed curiosity, I was able to channel my inner curious child to ask myself those relentless but necessary ‘why’s…
Well, she just f*cks me off. - Why? - Because she always just does what she wants. - Why does that matter to you? - Because she should be less self-involved! - Why? - Because we can’t just go around doing whatever we want and not care what people think! - Why? - Because there should be social consequences to that! - Why? - Because those are the rules! - Whose rules? - …ohhh I see what’s happening!
By investigating my frustration through an introspective lens rather than projecting out judgement, I quickly realised that the reason this woman got me so riled was that she felt able to fully express herself, which was something I’d been taught to suppress through trial and painful error. What I was feeling for this woman wasn’t dislike - it was envy!
Curiosity helps us identify defences we developed when learning how best to safely navigate our social environment, and this may differ for each individual. I met with a male client who was raised in a family where men had to be hyper-masculine. He would often, without warning, fly into an aggressive and nasty rage to appear as threatening as possible (such a delight to work with). Through therapy, we were able to explore the feelings that were coming up, revealing anger as his shield against a deep loneliness and vulnerability that lay underneath. Acknowledging this became transformative as it allowed him to access those parts in a way that felt safe, thus diffusing much of his flammability just by understanding its intrinsic nature. He wasn’t a psycho ..he was just sad. But attempts to pacify his anger would have been fruitless. It would infer judgement that he shouldn’t be angry, rather than allowing the feelings and simply being curious as to why they might be there. Curiosity provided access to the root cause, which then we could treat through psychotherapy.
Of course, it can be terrifying to look inwards, which is no doubt why many shy away from it. It can feel pointless or even masochistic. I still haven’t quite been able to access the grief for my mum, and notice myself getting immediately irritated even by the thought of it. Why would I want to ‘get in touch with my sadness’ if I know I’ll feel sh*t and she’ll still not be here? But it’s healthy for me to notice that irritation, because having an extreme or irrational reaction to something (disproportionate to the context) signifies an emotional defence that feels under attack. It’s important to understand that feelings we push away become suppressed not eradicated. When we don’t acknowledge emotions, they get banished to the unconscious, where what we think we’ve controlled starts to find different outlets we aren’t aware of. Emotions become distorted and either reappear to us in the guise of a different emotion (as with my male client), get projected out onto others (as with my work colleague), or a formidable hybrid of the two.
It could be argued that curiosity is the greatest gift we can give ourselves with regards to our mental health. A lot of the pain and suffering we experience as humans is because of the disconnect between what we feel and what we think we know about what we feel. Curiosity allows intellectual and creative investigation as a way to truly understand ourselves better. To challenge our existential fear of the unknown so we can revel in our exploration of the unknown.
Curiosity is a power centre unlocking infinite access to the psyche if we follow it. It’s creative and compassionate and smart, as it exists outside of rules, and helps us break down negative mental structures and unnecessary defences. If we can let go of our need for certainty, and embrace our childhood birthright to be inquisitive, we can discover deeper and greater parts to ourselves. And I guarantee, no cats will be harmed in the process.
The Spin
Curiosity is our power centre. It’s our key to greater learner and ever-furthering our intelligence. It can break down walls of judgement either internalised or projected externally.
Often the emotions were present on the surface have been socially curated to mask what’s underneath. Strong mental health relies on getting to those suppressed parts of ourselves and understanding they’re not to be feared or ignored.
We can hinder ourselves by clinging to ideas or theories without question. Keeping an open mind helps us go deeper intellectually and emotionally.
Curiosity not only helps us explore the present but it also eases existential anxiety as it’s a healthy relationship with the unpredictability of the unknown. It reframes our fear of the unknown into exploration of the unknown.
Adding More Weight
The Business Case for Curiosity
Curiosity Has the Power to Change Behaviour for the Better
The Psychology and Neuroscience of Curiosity
Option to Go Deeper
Think about some beliefs or rules you hold about/for yourself
Exhaust the ‘why’ train by investigating why they are there, where they originated, who modelled those for you, and who didn’t/doesn’t.
Obviously any article that features so many cats gets my vote! 😁The added bonus being it's a fascinating and wonderfully written piece... Thanks Hannah!!