Nikos Panaousis

We scroll, we skim, and we stare at the screen, consumed by the fruits of our collective making.

But, amidst this digital oasis, we regularly forget to pause and reflect.

We have become so incredibly entrenched in the presence of external stimuli that we have forgotten that there is an inherent power in personal contemplation, in letting our thoughts flow without the accustomed interruption of the next ping.

Unshackled from the digital realm, our minds can explore depths that are unfathomable to any algorithm—but, more often that not, we fail to embrace that power that lies within us, and, instead, we opt for shallowness and distraction.

I cannot deny it. I am distracted. Distraction rules my life.

It is a force of overwhelming proportions.

But it’s a force that must be controlled, overcome, and mastered.

Why?

It is my belief that the current information environment has transformed us into atomic entities that spit short, seemingly profound, yet astoundingly empty, sentences of disconnected and, often, misinformed ideas, meandering from one topic to the next, believing that we possess a superpower when in fact we become dumber by the day.

The dominant currents want us to express ourselves without articulation. To rely on external tools for meeting internal desires and inquisitions. Today, it is the volume that matters. But we need to resist that. We need to be more intimate with our thoughts, to allow them to mature into firm, elaborated sentences, instead of succumbing to instant gratification.

We need to be thinkers.

But, before we go about doing that, we need to understand why we are not as inquisitive as we aspire to be.

I believe that part of the answer—when you exclude distraction and anxieties—is found in the abundance of search in our lives.

Searching has become a powerful yet dumbing process for it inhibits our predispositions for exploration and experimentation. Imagination and wonder have become the bottlenecks of our existence, preventing us from engaging in explorative phases that lead to rewarding discoveries and intimate understanding.

I am not talking about academic research, but the everyday impulsive scrolling and Googling—or ChatGPTing—that it is often unnecessary and harmful to our free thinking. We are so relied upon our technology that we have chosen to outsource our questions to algorithms, and many of the answers we receive are not irrefutable facts but subjective interpretations of people like you and me.

I strongly believe that with a little bit of self-reflection and inquisition, we can formulate strong, well-grounded opinions about the things that matter to us, rather than adopting others’ ideologies and stances.

Having said that, it still important that we explore existing knowledge and points of view, for this is how we grow intellectually, but parts of the conclusions we eventually adopt must involve our input. We are not going to readily achieve this in the realm of science, for it requires us to be well-versed in empirical research, but in so many other domains (such as politics, social issues and other qualitative areas) we can have a tangible impact as long as we are willing to venture beyond our comfort zone and ruminate deeply and purposefully.

We are constantly bombarded by reams and reams of information whose toll on us is often overbearing, numbing us with opposing facts, twisted narratives, fierce political opinions, contesting ideologies and a myriad of other influences. Just check the news or browse Twitter.

In this world, it is very hard for the individual to find their own words, their compass, yet without them one doesn’t effectively exist outside of the confines of some sort of a shallow collective (a group of people reverberating common ideas that are spread by a select few). To claim independence, to find clarity, one needs to write or externalize the ideas within the mind, to dissect them, place them on a flat surface and heavily scrutinize their origin and standing.

Doing this will reveal that much of our thinking is shaped without our input.

Think in writing

One of the best ways to reclaim ourselves is to write, for I strongly believe that writing is equivalent and even superior to internal thinking. That way, inadequate and faulty judgement will have nowhere to hide.

I understand this, you see, but, more often that not, I prevent myself from acting on this understanding. I discount it. I rationalize it. I find external influences to be too enticing to ignore, too easy to consume.

A prime example is social media. When social media enters the discussion, we are quick to point out that it causes us to fall apart as a society, but perhaps most importantly to me is the fact that it discourages intellectual exploration. How many of us have it as our goal to come up with a body of carefully articulated thought, to answer our burning questions, to craft our own theories, stories and paths for exploration?

There is plenty of time, yet we insist that there is none—and we continue to be consumed as we consume others’ outputs.

So, how do we transform into thinkers, philosophers, and seekers of knowledge, eager for answers?

We can take out a piece of paper and ruminate. No screens. No distractions. Just us and our racing thoughts.

Address everything: Articulate talking points and philosophical musings that tackle pressing issues. Take, for instance, the current climate of division, anger, and polarization. Ponder, what is your stance on this? Reflect deeply. What would your message be to others on a particular issue? How could you influence change? What perspective should you and others adopt regarding this matter? Journaling is key. Document your thoughts as they flow, striving to unravel the pressing questions of our times and of your life, relying solely on your inner resources. Discover the power of introspection.

In my personal life, despite my ongoing struggle with distraction, I have embraced the idea of thinking in writing, which has arisen from the need to enhance my critical thinking skills on a daily basis without waiting for my bi-weekly writing sessions. I simply take out a piece of paper and start thinking.

The topics of the questions that I attempt to answer can range from motivational issues to daily routines to relationships to major themes in the world (e.g., immigrant perception & aspects of immigration; global power plays; historical effects and translating them to the present). I write and re-write. This is a journey of self-exploration based on what already exists in my mind—not my second brain. I then parse everything together and put it in clear articulated sentences that result into a polished output worthy of sharing and representative of my true intellectual abilities.

The next logical step is to finally venture into the inter-webs for fact-checking and context-enrichment, but before we do that, we must think—deeply and purposefully, in our solitude, just us and our minds alone.

I am increasingly worried that our deference to increasingly advanced algorithms, for search and entertainment, will hinder our ability to discover things ourselves, to experiment, get out, sample, communicate, and repeatedly fail.

They have all the answers for us. It’s both a curse and a blessing. Ultimately, it is up to us and our willingness to do some of the thinking ourselves.

The answers are within us.