Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don’t Know

As a child, Grant says he hated being asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, both because they never liked his answer and because he felt aimless. On the other hand, his cousin Ryan knew—or at least believed he knew—that he wanted to become a doctor from the time he was young. However, although he had the work ethic for it, by the time he reached college, Ryan was beginning to express doubts, and by the time he finished his residency, he was already burned out. Though he is currently a neurosurgeon, he tells Grant that if he had it to do over again, he would have done something else with his life.

Grant argues that while it’s good to have plans and goals, they can sometimes lead to tunnel vision and prevent us from seeing alternative possibilities. “When we dedicate ourselves to a plan and it isn’t going as we hoped,” he writes, “our first instinct isn’t usually to rethink it” (228). He notes that although grit is a major factor in success, it can also cause people to escalate commitment to a plan when they should pivot instead.

When we ask children what they want to be when they grow up, Grant suggests that we inadvertently push them into limiting mindsets that drive their later goals. Sometimes their original dreams are too small or too lofty, and they don’t pursue alternatives; other times, their dream jobs turn out not to suit them very well. “Kids might be better off,” he writes, “learning about careers as actions to take rather than as identities to claim” (230). For example, research suggests that when children learn about “doing science” as opposed to “being scientists,” they are more likely to maintain their enthusiasm about science later (231).

Grant argues that while many people experience identity crises, many others experience the opposite in identity foreclosure. When we make our plans part of our identities, closing ourselves off from alternative possibilities. He notes that his students who are most certain of their career plans as undergraduates are also the most regretful about those paths once they’re older. Identity foreclosure, in that sense, merely covers up an identity crisis. He suggests that we counter this by scheduling regular “career checkups” where we ask ourselves key questions in order to determine if we should pivot from our current paths.

Counterintuitively, psychologists find that “the more people value happiness, the less happy they often become with their lives” (237). There are several potential explanations offered: first, that we spend too much time evaluating life to experience it; second, that we strive for peak happiness instead of frequent happiness; and third, that we emphasize pleasure over purpose. One further possibility is that “Western conceptions of happiness as an individual state leave us feeling lonely” (238); evidence for this is that in more collectivist Eastern cultures, pursuing happiness has a positive correlation instead.

Grant suggests that “instead of searching for the job where we’ll be happiest, we [pursue] the job where we expect to learn and contribute the most” (240). Psychologists have found that passion grows along with momentum and mastery: i.e., passions are developed rather than discovered. Most of our lives are spent in so-called open systems, in which there are multiple paths to the same end (equifinality), and the same starting point can have multiple ends (multifinality); Grant argues that because of this, we should avoid becoming too attached to a single path (241). Instead, we should be open to rethinking our paths throughout our lives.