If something lasts a long while — a long time — that doesn’t necessarily make it bad or good.
If a relationship lasts a long while and stays fresh, that’s heartwarming.
If a torment of any kind lasts a long while, that’s inhumane and soul-crushing.
But let’s jump back — from the future into the year 2025.
Another year of constant bombardment: headlines, claims, divisions, and the big, gnawing fear for our very existence. This ongoing shelling of bold assertions and horror scenarios from the media — often accompanied by video clips — turns the brain to mush and dulls the senses. This flood of information makes us sink into chaos and grope through the fog.
And that’s dreadful — but also replaceable.
Sometimes I feel unfairly calm compared to my friends and family, who are often anxious and depressed. Since my personal breakdown, I’ve mostly been serenity itself. Who’s surprised?
I am — mainly because that wasn’t me before.
I used to live in a constant state of stress, with a pinch of panic tucked into my briefcase. My body and mind could handle it back then — or so I thought. What I realized much later:
I could no longer think critically. My emotions and spontaneous decisions didn’t allow me to sit quietly, lay things out, and ask myself: What’s this really about? That’s something I’ve learned to do only in the last two decades.
Critical thinking is an excellent exercise — a way to see more clearly, and without taking sides.
At least, I think so. It’s a disciplined habit that keeps us from running scared. And that, in itself, feels like progress — especially in later years. I’ve finally reminded myself how science and journalism truly work: At their heart lies critical questioning, reasoning, and follow-up. It’s hard work — but far more efficient than constantly walking into traps. Whether you’re a businessman eager to decide or a politician playing the long game:
Think first, then act.My first attempts at critical thinking began in puberty. I was searching for love and knowledge. Yes — in that order.
I could have sat back comfortably, basking in the certainty of growing up in a Christian home. I was clearly one of the “good ones” — a proper churchgoer of the Reformed Church. But eventually, I started to question those so-called “reforms” — and the meaning of the whole enterprise.
As a teenager, you want fun, risk, adventure. While reading the Bible, I kept stumbling on passages that condemned exactly that.
Damned? Then I discovered the fierce parts — these authors of the “book of all books” were ethically deranged and bloodthirsty.
A pity that soft drugs weren’t available back then — the Bible could’ve been a joyful book about human coexistence. Paradisiacal, I’d say. Anyway, my doubts about the religion I’d been raised in were my first signs of real thinking — and honest critique. I must have grown up in the wrong faith, or at least the wrong philosophy.
That was my critical conclusion. So I visited every possible and impossible group that smelled even faintly of God or spirituality.Holy shit. Holy smokes. Holy bullshit. I stumbled from one
altar into the next puddle. These preachers and sect leaders were armed with every trick in the sales manual. The more I listened, the closer I got to becoming a car or insurance salesman myself. The fine art of deception — in public. My conclusion after years of crusading? I had to start from scratch. Without the sediment of my upbringing. Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Dad. I didn’t want my mind to be fooled — not by myself, and not by others. The mind is flexible, adaptable — and, most importantly, critical. I also remembered my childhood, when — like every child — I was made of endless questions. At some point, I decided to remain that way for life.
To stay a questioning child — forever. And I think I’ve succeeded.
Anyone who feels at home in a group and enjoys being surrounded by like-minded people will find that critical thinking can cause headaches. Not from thinking itself — but from the bitter realization that asking questions can threaten relationships. Ouch. That’s where a guy like Immanuel Kant comes in: “Have the courage to use your own understanding.”
This bitterness can be softened a bit. As in all communication, tone makes the music — and humility makes the thinker. Know-it-alls are rarely good at critical thinking without ending up isolated. During the years of COVID-19 and the virus of conspiracy theories, I learned how to talk with friends about such topics — or how not to. A bit of sensitivity, and a good story to wrap the question in — that often did the trick. I don’t want to lose friends because they express their views. Quite the opposite: I’m grateful when I face some headwind and my mind asks,
“Are you sure?”
It twists a bit and then goes off in search of proof, facts, or at least clues. Good boy. Yes, critical thinking is a vital human discipline — one I must keep training. Because this new fear of artificial intelligence is justified. It’s making us mentally lazy.
It all started with: “I’ll just Google it.” I’ve thought about it — and coined my own term:
Googliosis. We all care about our physical health — before we waste entirely away. I do the same, as healthily as possible. Because our common sense deserves some training, too.
After the sit-ups come the think-ups.
