I think I finally understand why all three sons in my family became independent thinkers.
The realization came while watching a movie about the Italian astronomer Margherita Hack.
Margherita was clearly an outlier from an early age.
What fascinated me, however, was not her scientific achievements. It was the way she was raised.
Her parents were unconventional for their time.
They were not religious in the traditional sense. Their worldview was a mixture of influences from different traditions. They ate vegan food decades before it became fashionable because they did not want animals to be killed on their behalf.
Yet they never forced these beliefs onto their daughter.
Margherita was free to visit a church and learn about Christianity if she wanted.
She was free to try meat elsewhere if she wanted.
She was free to make up her own mind.
One story stood out in particular.
As a young athlete, she was expected to read a political pledge to the fascist regime before competing in a tournament. Refusal meant punishment and exclusion from competition.
Her parents opposed fascism.
Yet they did not make the decision for her.
They trusted her judgment.
That detail stayed with me.
Because it revealed something important.
Parents who give their children enough stability and enough freedom create fertile ground for outliers to emerge.
Not because they force independent thinking.
Because they allow it.
How My Story Aligns
When I look at my own family, I would not describe my parents as outliers.
They are good people.
Responsible people.
But statistically speaking, they are much closer to the norm than I am.
And yet all three of their sons developed strong independent personalities.
We are different from one another.
We chose different paths.
But we all challenge assumptions.
We all think for ourselves.
If it were only me, I could dismiss it as coincidence.
But three out of three?
That suggests a pattern.
And I think I know what the pattern is.
The Day I Destroyed Our Only Computer
Around 1997, when I was about ten years old, I decided to repair our family computer.
Back then, many households didn't own a computer at all.
We had one.
There were no smartphones.
No tablets.
No second laptop waiting in a drawer.
If you broke it, you broke it.
I believe there was some issue with the CD-ROM drive.
My brilliant solution was to start experimenting with switches on the power supply.
One of them changed the voltage from 230V to 110V.
I remember the blue spark.
The smell.
And the realization that I had just destroyed our only PC.
Today I laugh about it.
At the time it was less amusing.
I can easily imagine another parent reacting with:
You're never touching that computer again.
Maybe my mother was not thrilled either.
But she got my back.
The computer was repaired.
Life continued.
And I learned a lesson.
Two years later, I was fixing computers not only for my household but also for family friends and acquaintances.
By the age of twelve, people were bringing me their machines because I knew how to solve problems.
Looking back, the most important part of the story was not the destroyed power supply.
It was what happened afterwards.
I was allowed to continue.
Why Critical Thinking Courses Feel Strange to Me
During the COVID period, I heard the phrase critical thinking almost daily.
There were courses.
Certificates.
Academies.
Even politicians teaching people how to think critically.
The whole thing always felt slightly amusing to me.
Not because critical thinking is unimportant.
Because I do not think it starts where most people think it starts.
A course can teach:
- logical fallacies,
- manipulation techniques,
- cognitive biases,
- analytical frameworks.
All useful.
But curiosity comes first.
The willingness to question.
The willingness to explore.
The willingness to be wrong.
I did not learn those things in a classroom.
I learned them by breaking things.
Testing things.
Questioning things.
Sometimes embarrassing myself.
Sometimes succeeding.
The course can teach techniques.
It cannot manufacture curiosity.
Can People Change As Adults?
At a certain age, our worldview becomes more stable.
That is simply reality.
But there is an interesting twist.
I built my life around change itself.
In a way, I cemented a life of constant change.
I learned to tolerate uncertainty.
Eventually I learned to seek it.
That does not mean I change every opinion every week.
It means I remain willing to revisit my assumptions.
And I believe almost anyone can develop more of that capacity.
Not overnight.
Not effortlessly.
But gradually.
The older we become, the higher the cost.
The process requires more energy.
More honesty.
More courage.
But it remains possible.
The decision is not made on social media.
It is not made in public.
It is made quietly.
Alone.
The Wrong Question
Can you become someone like Margherita Hack?
If that is the question, you may have missed the point.
The goal is not becoming Margherita.
Or me.
Or anyone else.
The goal is becoming more fully yourself.
Can you become more curious?
More open?
More willing to challenge assumptions?
More willing to explore?
I believe you can.
But first you need to understand why you want that change.
Only then can you figure out how.
One warning before you begin:
This process never ends.
Not at thirty.
Not at fifty.
Not at eighty.
It ends when you do.
And honestly?
That is what I love most about my life.
The exploration never stops.
Ad Astra.
