The Use of Curiosity--Concept Analysis

Ever notice how the information you cram into your head the night before a big test seeps out after you turn your paper in? That’s because cramming isn’t really learning. Learning is knowing and knowing for years to follow. But how do we actually learn? What psychological attitude do we need? The first step to achieve anything is the desire to do so. The desire for knowledge is curiosity. Evidence of an inquisitive spirit include treating assignments as learning experiences rather than just work to be done, chasing rabbit trails of subtopics, and, the most obvious, incessantly asking questions.

Many children are known to have played the “Why” game. A child asks, “Why is the sky blue?” and the adult answers “Because God made it that way.” Forever after, every reply is followed by an innocent “Why?”

“Because God likes the color blue.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a pretty color.”

“Why?” It’s an endless cycle. This is an example of curiosity (or obnoxiousness, depending on the child).

Another similar example is right in the classroom. The curious students are the ones in the front row with their hand raised the entire hour asking questions and getting on everyone’s nerves, slang term being “geek.” Those disinterested in the class are in the back, throwing pencils into the ceiling and making paper footballs, slang term being “slacker.”

These typical stereotypes don’t distinguish intelligence; the slackers just may not find a particular interest in the class so they don’t put as much effort into their work, because without a hint of curiosity, humans can learn nothing, nor do they want to. There is a very crucial difference between curiosity and intelligence. Rather than those labeled “smart” being curious, they are smart because they are curious. Curiosity is a trait we’re born with. Proof of this can be found in any baby as they persistently grab at the lights on the Christmas tree. As a child grows up, their curiosity is either squelched or encouraged. This will effect them

In terms of creativity rather than education, S.I. Hayakawa described proof of curiosity. “Another trait of a creative person is idle curiosity. Such a person asks questions, reads books, conducts investigations into matter apparently unrelated to job or profession—just for the fun of knowing. It is from these apparently unrelated sources that brilliant ideas often emerge to enrich one’s own field of work.” As a student, our field of work is learning. But how is it that we learn?

When you see a preview for a new action movie out, doesn’t it make you want to go watch the movie? Learning is the same way. You may be presented with a morsel of trivia that perks your interest, so you delve into that subject until you learn all about it you can. Like Hayakawa explained, the inquisitive individual does this willingly without outside encouragement. Just like a trophy won, your newfound information is valuable to you. You cherish it in the depths of your mind and you keep it there until you can draw it out again.

How is it that our interest is perked? In general, subjects that interest us are the ones we find most mysterious or ones we have less experience with. For instance, we know little about the Bermuda Triangle, so many find it intriguing. Or if a family is really into the sciences, a child may find literature more interesting because it’s different than what they have everyday.
But how do we learn things that don’t perk our interest? How do we take a bland topic and force ourselves to learn like with more appealing topics? A trick is to relate the boring topics to ones we are interested in. For instance, I’m not particularly fond of science, so I related my biology terms to characters in my favorite books to help me remember their meanings and traits. It was kind of an abstract way of learning, but it helped.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” People will always find curiosity somewhat dangerous, because it opens the door to what we don’t know. The only thing worth fearing is what we don’t understand, but curiosity can also pose other problems. Besides bothering those around them with too many questions and sometimes nosiness, the inquisitives can often miss the main point because they are far too busy delving into minutiae. Sometimes it’s most important to see information from outside the box to draw conclusions of your own.

The original phrase didn’t even include “curiosity.” The first known usage was by the British playwright, Ben Johnson in 1598. “...Helter skelter, hang sorrow, care will kill a cat, up-tails all, and a pox on the hangman,” “care” being interchangeable with “worry” or “sorrow.” There isn’t a known trend from how “care” became “curiosity,” nor how curiosity is linked to worry. Even so, this still gives insight about how curiosity started with bad connotations.
If I may make a couple guesses of the evolution of our key phrase. I am assuming that in the Middle Ages, when the church ruled all and questions were frowned upon, curiosity became known as a sin, thus creating sorrow. Also, to many in the Medieval era, asking questions posed too much pressure, or worry, on an individual. Fortunately for mankind, the Enlightenment was not long after, where most asked questions and many discovered.

In pop culture, negative curiosity is displayed in the movie “The Prestige.” It’s about a feud between two magicians and Magician One spends his entire life and fortune attempting to replicate Magician Two’s trick. His curiosity leads him to immorality and near insanity from lack of closure. Though this is a drastic example, it illuminates the darker side of curiosity. It can cause you to disregard the big picture.

Even though the cat was killed by curiosity, “satisfaction brought it back.” Curiosity can help you deduce individual ideas and beliefs, but is a thirst that can’t always be quenched. However, when it is fulfilled, you learn something that’ll stick with you. Not for a day, not for a week, not just long enough for you to take a test and be done with it. That kind of learning instills information in your head for years to come.

According to Elizabeth Loftus, “it should be almost automatic to ask about any idea, ‘What's the evidence?’” It’s far more dangerous to take information for face value than to give in to an inquisitive nudge. She not only encourages us to question the evidence, but the exact evidence. The scientific procedures, how many trials were done, who did them, whether or not it was replicated, et cetera.

The secret of learning is the desire to learn, also known as curiosity. The cat may have been killed by it, but least it died satisfied. Nothing is wrong with asking questions; just don’t let it cloud your view of the big picture. No human can accomplish anything without a desire to do so. Curiosity is the initiative of learning, so next time a child asks you why the child its blue, don’t roll your eyes and assume they’re playing. Answer them to the best of your abilities, because today’s questioners will be tomorrow’s brilliance.

Works Cited

Hayakawa, S.I. “What It Means to Be Creative.” The Composition of Everyday Life. 2nd ed. Ed. John Mauk and John Metz. Boston: Wadsworth, 2007. 149-150.

Loftus, Elizabeth. “Who is the cat that curiosity killed? - importance of psychology in life.” Skeptical Inquirer. Nov.-Dec 1998.

"Curiosity killed the cat." Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. 15 Sep 2007, 01:17 UTC. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. 11 Oct 2007 <http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Curiosity_killed_the_cat&oldid=157967756>.

Piccone, Jason. “Curiosity and Exploration.” California State University, Northridge. Spring 1999.

Svoboda, Elizabeth. “Cultivating Curiosity.” Psychology Today. Copyright Sussex Publishers, LLC. 2006