Did curiosity really kill the cat?

We are children of the world, asking every question why. From arrival to survival, just to make it worth the waiting.

The Bee Gees

Getting to the “who, what, why, when, where and how” of life.

When I first retired, I had the idea that periodically I would select a topic and research it until I knew all I cared to know about it I had my own list, much like Jane’s “bucket list.” Here’s one example on my roster: the recycling industry…why it’s so hard to create a market for recyclable items, what the economics are around recycling, how to initiate neighborhood recycling efforts, and so on.

Was I interested in becoming a recycling advocate? Or was I thinking about getting into the industry in some way? 

Neither. I was just curious. Particularly curious as to why recycling hasn’t become an accepted principle for basic living—after being introduced over three decades ago. I wanted to intelligently engage in a discussion when the topic came up in conversation.

But have I followed through on my project? No. And that’s the problem for all of us…life gets in the way of allowing our curiosity to bud fully and come into full bloom.

My youngest step-daughter, Nikki, was visiting with us last month. I observed her level of curiosity and I got thinking hard about the subject.

Curiosity matters at all ages. It’s that yearn to learn that keeps us vital all our lives. We talk about it in our book and I’ve blogged on the topic before, but read on for a different perspective.

Curiosity is a desire to know. Of course if all you want to know is someone else’s business, it’s called being nosy! But if your interest leads to exploration, inquiry, and learning, then it’s the good kind—intellectual curiosity.

I don’t remember being particularly curious when I was when I a kid. And through college and my early career, I admit I was absorbed in exploring my freedom, my responsibilities, and what it meant to be an adult.

But four to five years into my first job, a memorable performance review shook me. Mind you, I had recently been promoted and was the youngest person (and first woman) to oversee a multi-million dollar contract with the Strategic Air Command in Omaha. Regardless of my recent accomplishment, when Dick Hess came to the “Areas for Improvement” section of my review, he said, “I don’t think you are curious enough. To be successful at this job, and in life, you must be curious.”

I doubt that Dick knows the impact he’s had on my life.

Because of his counsel, I found myself turning away from the beach life I was enjoying in Southern California while I sought ways to be better informed about what was happening around me. I wanted to understand what life could offer me if I just probed a little more.

What happened next? I decided to ask questions and search for answers…in museums, theatres, a wide-ranging group of friends, and formal classes. After all, the mind is very much like a muscle—and as Jane and I wrote in Changing Lanes, the mental exercise caused by curiosity makes your mind stronger.

It also opened up new worlds and possibilities. For me, I started getting curious about other places and peoples. I wanted to travel—and did. And that love of travel is the genesis of my friendship with Jane.

A short aside. Shortly after retiring from my career, I had a chance to visit with my first husband. Our friends from college instigated the assembly and while the four of us drank wine, we shared our life experiences. My ex, always an avid reader, probed at one point, “I don’t understand why you have to travel to all these countries, you can learn about them by reading books.”  Now I love to read, but somehow, the adventure of being in China for three weeks during the Tiananmen Square incident in 1989 could never be matched by the experience of reading a book about it or seeing a documentary.

Being curious means being observant. And conversely, a lack of curiosity heightens the probability that a great idea will pass you by. 

For eight years, each of my nieces and my nephew vacationed with me for two weeks in the summer. Before their departure from home, I sent each of them an age-appropriate question. I might ask my then-7-year-old nephew, “What’s the difference between a fir, spruce, and pine tree?” My oldest niece, at 12, had to pick two Indian tribes from Colorado and explain their similarities and differences.

I want them to be curious about everything. So, when do so many kids lose the sense of curiosity?  We’re tickled pink with their responses to “Curious George” as tots; which can be exasperating as they pepper us with “Why? Why? Why?” as they grow. Then by the time they graduate high school it seems the educational system has squeezed all the inquisitiveness out of them.

I wonder if kids start to see learning as a burden. They’ve got to pass standardized tests, so there’s no time to dig deeper into anything.

A sure way to dig deeper beneath the surface is asking questions: What is that? Why is it made that way? When was it made? Who invented it? Where does it come from? How does it work? What, why, when, who, where and how are the best friends of curious people. And Google.

The other night Rick and I were watching The Red Violin. It’s one of my favorite movies (if only for the joy of hearing Joshua Bell’s violin playing throughout the film) and I wanted Rick to see it too. One part of the story occurs in China during the Cultural Revolution. As the story line unfolded we kept trying to place the era. I was certain this period of frightful Chinese history ended in 1969, but couldn’t remember when it began.

Google to the rescue! We paused the DVD and satisfied our curiosity with a quick search. Interested in knowing the answer? It only started in 1966 (I always thought it ran a decade.) And while Mao declared it over in 1969, Wikipedia tells us that the term is “widely used to also include the power struggles and political instability between 1969 and the arrest of the ‘Gang of Four’ in 1976.”

During Nikki’s visit, I came to realize how important confidence is in setting the stage for one’s willingness to act on curiosity. Nikki was five when Rick and her mother divorced. For 11 years, she’s lived 1500 miles from her father and that partially explains how she’s developed over the last decade.

Nikki is bright, but cautious. She lacks confidence in making decisions and sometimes in trying new things. (So I was extra proud of her when she went horseback riding for the first time.) And when you think about it, a person needs confidence to explore, discover, and learn.

Even more importantly, we all have to be open to learn, unlearn, and relearn. Some things you “know” might actually turn out to be wrong, and you should be prepared to accept this possibility and change your mind. (I say this to my husband, who recently had to concede that the muscles I strained were the intercostals, not what he claimed they were.)

We’ve all heard the phrase “curiosity killed the cat.”  Phooey on that! But did you know that versions of it has variously been attributed to two sixteenth century English playwrights (Ben Jonson and William Shakespeare), the twentieth century writer O. Henry, and—in its current form—The Washington Post in 1916. Nonetheless, the proverb is commonly attributed to Eugene O’Neill (Different, 1920) who warned that being too inquisitive can cause harm. (I share all of this with you because I was curious as to its origins—and maybe you were too!)

Curiosity is an important trait of a genius. I mean, really, can you name an intellectual giant who isn’t consumed by their curiosity?

 If you just accept the world as it is without trying to dig deeper, you will certainly lose part of what it means to be alive. Never take things as granted. Try to dig beneath the surface of what you see around you. You won’t regret it. 

What have you been curious about lately? What have you learned?

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