A list of questions my three-year-old asked me this week:
How close is the moon? How do the birds get out of the sky? Why do animals lie down? How do airplanes not fall?
Like most toddlers, she holds an inexhaustible supply of questions inside her. They bubble up whenever she’s confronted with a new experience, which—as someone who’s only been on the planet for a few years—is often. The questions my daughter asks also tell me something about her natural interests. For example, this week I can tell that she’s fascinated by animals and the sky.
Beyond pointing to her interests, curiosity helps her make sense of the world and understand how to live within it. This is true for all kids; curiosity is “a fundamental driver of human development,” writes neuroscientist Aditi Subramaniam. Children’s minds are designed for exploration and question-asking. These behaviors help them learn how to be a person, and their brains reward these behaviors with surges of dopamine every time they discover something new.
It’s often assumed that we age out of this relentless hunger for knowledge and novelty. But does a sense of wonder at the world necessarily wear off in adulthood? Professor Jamie Jirout, at the University of Virginia’s School of Education and Human Development, says it’s not a given that we grow out of our drive to discover. “I don’t think we lose the ability to become curious,” Jirout says. “I think [adults] just don’t have space for it in our lives. It’s not a priority, because our function is to use our knowledge and our skills to accomplish tasks.”
Children are in the information-gathering stage of their lives. As Fred Rogers wrote, “For children, play is serious learning. At various times, play is a way to cope with life and to prepare for adulthood. … In fact, play is the real work of childhood.” As we age, we start to put knowledge into practice—and often, applying our existing knowledge pushes aside the urge to gather new information.
Why we value—and squelch—curiosity
Across lifestyles, professions, and ages, humans view curiosity as a virtue—and with good reason. Curiosity is the seed of creativity and innovation. Training the muscle of curiosity leads to critical thinking, empathy, effective communication, and emotional intelligence. In adults, curiosity helps us overcome obstacles and persevere in achieving goals. A curious mind—one that is open to uncertainty and questions—builds our capacity to hold complexity. All of these skills, from critical thinking to creativity to empathy for others, are more important than ever in today’s world.
Dr. Larisa Heiphetz Solomon, principal investigator at Columbia Social and Moral Cognition Lab, believes that cultural values also lead us to assign moral weight to curiosity. In the United States, hard work is seen as a moral good. Satisfying one’s curiosity involves work; it requires asking thoughtful questions, researching, and exploring. The fact that curiosity is effortful causes us to view it as virtuous. Perhaps surprisingly, this perspective holds true across ages and religious backgrounds, as Solomon discovered through a project on religious curiosity. The research team thought they’d find differences based on people’s religious backgrounds, since religions value curiosity differently. Christianity tends to emphasize faith and belief, for example, while Judaism places a high value on asking questions. But the data showed that curiosity’s high value held steady. Across ages and religious traditions, says Solomon, “what we mostly found is that people think that curiosity is morally good.”
Here’s the paradox: We value curiosity as a society. We want to raise lifelong learners who can shape a more empathetic, innovative, imaginative world. But despite the consensus that curiosity is both a virtue and an essential life skill, studies show a significant curiosity gap in classrooms—the very place it should be most welcome.
Just as adults have limited space in their lives to foster curiosity, Jirout says that teachers face a similar problem.
In many cases, discovery and question-asking have been squeezed out of the classroom due to lack of time.
“Expectations have gotten younger and younger in terms of what we think kids should be learning,” says Jirout. Teachers are expected to introduce vast amounts of information and accomplish a huge number of tasks during the school day. Classroom management takes a long time. Transitions take a long time. Preparing students for standardized testing and meeting state standards takes a very long time.
Our education system, by and large, prioritizes performance over discovery. There’s daily homework to turn in for a grade, weekly quizzes to test knowledge absorption, and regular statewide testing. All of these measurements, while not unhelpful, shift the focus from curiosity to learning outcomes. Instead of celebrating exploration, we celebrate good grades. “One way to think about curiosity is that it is an internally-driven desire to know information that you don’t currently know,” says Solomon. The internal motivation is an important part of the definition. If a student gets an “A” for tracking down the correct answer to a question, she’s responding to an external reward, rather than letting an internal desire for knowledge lead her.
Fostering curious classrooms and homes
In school settings, “it’s not about what students want to know—it’s about what they’re supposed to know, what their teacher is downloading to them,” says Jirout. Why would I be curious in the classroom, students wonder, if I’m here to learn what the teacher says I should learn?
This perspective makes it tough for students to understand that not having an answer to a question—or even getting something wrong—is an opportunity to explore. One way that educators can steward children’s natural bent toward curious exploration is by celebrating process over performance. Importantly, modeling their own curiosity goes a long way in teaching students how to tap into their own interests. Even if teachers don’t have time to model the work of finding an answer to a question, they can still show that they don’t know something—and that this gap in knowledge is something to be welcomed and encouraged.
Psychologist Dr. Susan Engel says that the behavior of teachers, parents, and caregivers can spark curiosity in children. “Experiments I’ve done show that children show much more interest in materials when an adult visibly shows how curious he or she is about the materials. …children’s curiosity can be fostered or squelched by the people they spend time with,” Engel writes. A teacher who models enthusiasm when he doesn’t know an answer encourages his students to notice their own budding curiosity when presented with something they don’t understand.
Curiosity contagion works at home, too. Parents and caregivers who want to foster their children’s capacity for exploration and question-asking can start by modeling those things themselves. Rather than resisting uncertainty, parents can show their children that they feel comfortable not knowing the answer. Even better, they can show kids that a gap in knowledge is an opportunity for discovery. Jirout recommends “recognizing when you don’t know something, and then acting excited about that as an opportunity to learn something new.”
Perhaps the simplest way to create a home environment where curiosity thrives is for parents to respond to their children’s questions with, “Let’s figure it out together!”
Allowing kids to get bored helps, too. Unstructured time—ideally, unstructured time outdoors—is the soil where creativity flourishes. These unfettered hours help children tap into their natural tendency to explore, create, and follow their interests without the expectation of a particular outcome. Making room for boredom and allowing kids to play on their own terms can also reveal what a child is naturally interested in. What questions do they tend to ask over and over? What kind of books do they gravitate toward? When they’re playing outside, what do they study, what kind of stories do they invent, and how do they interact with the natural world?
While shooing kids outside to play independently may sound like a parent’s dream, it’s easier said than done. “I think because there’s increased pressure on performance in the academic world, a lot of parents are trying to do things that they think are educational for their kids at home,” says Jirout. Many parents work hard to provide learning opportunities for their kids. The problem? They might nudge them toward specific subjects that diverge from what a child is trying to understand about their world. This well-intentioned guidance can squelch the questions a child might ask on her own, or direct her away from topics she’s naturally interested in. “Just like adults can forget to take the time to think about we want to know, we can put kids in that same position if they don’t have the time and space to think about what they’re curious about.”
Jirout’s research has shaped how she talks to her own children about their learning process. Instead of exclusively asking them about what they’re doing in school—their homework, or whether they have a test coming up—she makes an effort to broaden her questions and ask about their thinking.
What are they wondering about? What subjects are they currently interested in?
When they mention an area of curiosity, she’ll invite more conversation or offer to take them to the library to check out books on the subject.
Play, failure, and pleasure
In the same way that lessons from the classroom can be applied to the home, how kids experience curiosity can be instructive for adults.
This might mean resisting the fear of failure. As adults, we tend to try things only when we’re confident that we will have some success. But what if we were willing to explore activities that we might be very, very bad at? What if we were willing to study a subject we knew absolutely nothing about? It’s risky to show up to a French conversation group when you only know the words “oui” and “bonjour.” And yet, being an amateur is the starting point for learning and discovery.
Fostering curiosity in adulthood also means choosing effortful entertainment, at least some of the time. Scrolling on a smartphone requires almost zero mental engagement. On the other hand, it takes mental work to consider what you are curious about, and then to track down materials to help you explore that subject. Jirout likens building the curiosity muscle to practicing meditation. “It’s effortful to think,” says Jirout. “If you’re not in the habit of recognizing things you don’t know, that you might want to know, it’s going to take a little bit of effort.”
What about the very real hurdle of time? In the grind of daily life, most of us don’t have space for cultivating our curiosities. Or do we? “I think we have gotten so good at filling our time with low-effort tasks, that there might be more time than we realize,” she says.
Little shifts can go a long way in opening the door to curiosity. Maybe it means prioritizing the novels you want to read, rather than the job-related books you think you should read. Maybe it means trying something new and being okay with being genuinely bad at it. Maybe it also means being okay with quitting, if it turns out you don’t actually enjoy sewing clothes or rock climbing or learning French.
Ultimately, making space for pursuing our questions should be a pleasurable endeavor. Lifelong learning is one way to bring more delight into our ordinary lives. Jirout suggests seeking out new experience for the delight it elicits. “It’s hard to find joy in some contexts,” she says. But leaning in to curiosity is a healthy way to build a richer, more joyful life. And the practice has beneficial ripple effects on society at large. “The more people are trying to think in new ways and do things in new ways, the more innovation we’re going to have, and the more things are going to improve.”
Annelise Jolley is a journalist and essayist who writes about place, food, ecology, and faith for outlets such as National Geographic, The Atavist, The Rumpus, and The Millions. Find her at annelisejolley.com.
