Why Curiosity is Dangerous

Nitrogen is a necessary element for plant growth. Nitrogen forms amino acids, which forms plant protein, which forms plant tissues such as chlorophyll, which is imperative for photosynthesis.

Nitrogen can kill plants, too. Excess quantities fuel the proliferation of larger foliage and leaves, which redirects energy originally purposed for flower growth. Without adequate flowering, plants will not reproduce.

Curiosity is no different.

Curiosity is necessary for learning. Consider the scientific method: Question; Hypothesize; Test; Analyze. The very first step demands the curiosity to ask why.

But curiosity can prevent learning, too. It's oft easier to ask a question than answer one, so before long, questions pile up. Like profuse foliage prevents flowering, asking too many questions betrays finding answers.

I owe everything I know to curiosity. It's the fuel for my engine, it's what turns my wheels everyday to face what I don't understand. It's very hard for me to approach the unknown, to acknowledge my ignorance. Curiosity pulls me through that.

Curiosity has also broken me down; put me on the side of the road with conniptions about how I don't know anything and I should have pursued botany instead. Plants are easy, plants are simple. They don't have problems like I do.

The internet brings a wealth of information to our fingertips. That, and the realization of just how little we know. Programming exists on the internet; It is where it operates, where it is taught, and where it is learned.

And while programming can be so tremendously difficult to learn, it can be so extraordinarily easy to become overwhelmed. Sought answers to seemingly simple questions are quickly obfuscated by torrents of suggested methods, ideologies, best practices, patterns and anti-patterns...

These people aren't wrong, either. They have reputation, renowned jobs, years of experience. There are lessons in what they recommend. And so, our backlog of things we don't know but should grows. And grows.. And grows...

I find solace in the strange idea that none of us really know anything, or can ever know anything. That is, I mean, anything in the scope of everything. Even by the time our peepholes close, we will still be left with questions.

All we can do is be satisfied with wondering, satisfied by asking questions and only finding some answers, and satisfied looking at the clouds, wondering which looks most like a dog, or butterfly, or dinosaur, but not about whether it will rain.

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TL;DR: Ask questions, but not too many. Be satisfied wondering, because you will never know everything. Learn to get smarter, but be happy being dumb.