Daily Insight:

The first step to critical thinking

Youtube street interviews teach us a lot about intellectual integrity.

When I waste time on Youtube, but I want it to be somewhat-kinda-semi-thoughtful rather than complete slop, I opt for street debates and interviews. That also means I decide against inner peace for the day, but that's besides the point.

In these videos, the youtuber heads into public - often to an event surrounding some political or social discourse - and asks people questions:

Why are you out here today?

What does your sign say?

What's your take?

That sort of thing.

The interviewer might then rip off their veil of neutrality—they might interrogate the protestors further, counter their claim, or spit out their own viewpoint.

Some channels do it for honest boots-on-the-ground journalism. Others fight for their side in the culture war. A handful do it for the love of rage-baiting, where they are happy to escalate the outrage for a juicy view count.

But I noticed a disturbing trend across all of them.

Many of the "gotcha" moments used by the interviewers are not witty uses of logic or clever retorts, but basic questions met with a speechless daze:

It happens on all sides of the political spectrum.

Activists are involved enough to show up to the protest and make a fanfare, but apparently not enough to do any basic research.

It's not just the loud ones outside; we're all guilty.

We're all vulnerable to intellectual pride, where the mouth talks faster than the mind can think, and where ideology snuffs out critical thinking. We are hasty to take sides, jump to conclusions, and trim away nuance like it's an invasion of garden weeds.

In How to Read and Why, Harold Bloom indirectly argued against this premature activism, where people make sweeping declarations on mankind's great issues before they have confronted their own lack of knowledge:

It's hard to swallow, but most of us simply aren't ready to stand up for what we believe in.

Wisdom takes ages.

It's not flashy or exciting. You don't find it in podcast clips, tweets, or Instagram carousels.

Wisdom is earned through a lifetime of humble study—it trickles in through books, conversations, contemplation, travel, experiences, coming in slow and steady. It demands the patience of a monk and the effort of a scribe, with no shortcuts or summaries.

Why, then, are we so quick to swear loyalty to some faceless ideology? Some "-ism" we fell into a situationship with?

I'm not here to suggest we lock ourselves up until we have read through the Western Canon and finished a Master's degree in history. We'll get nowhere like that—not even most politicians would qualify . . .

Instead, we need intellectual humility.

To not hastily "take sides."

To not make points without an inch of research beyond the Instagram feed.

To not pretend to know the truth.

You can still hold opinions, get stuck into conversations, and have the odd pub rant, but it must be from an earnest mind, one not concerned with "winning," but with stepping closer to the truth.

It takes practice - the ego is stubborn - and I like to constantly check myself by asking am I ready to argue this point? Is what I'm about to say from a place of reflection and research, or impulse?

The answer tames the tongue.

And when you feel ready to debate, you have to be twice as willing to listen, to weigh up and truly consider other people's arguments. Like with great literature, you literally add their knowledge and experience to your own.

This isn't castration, but liberation—by accepting your limits, you break the chains of old prejudices and create fertile space for new insight to sprout. It's why debates between intelligent people often don't even look like debates; it's a genuine effort of cooperation towards a higher goal, not a cheap scrap for a winner to emerge.

Critical thinking is a whole skillset of its own, but without intellectual humility, you haven't even opened the door to it.

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Links

Channel

​Farya Faraji - An extraordinarily talented composer-historian. He researches musical traditions from all over the world, then performs them like you were really there, hundreds, even thousands of years ago—in his own words, it's a musical world museum.

It's stunning how authentic each song comes across - the language, the accent, the instruments - you can feel how much effort is put into capturing the substance behind each culture, and I really respect that. Plus, there's a lot of historical content if you want the meat and bones behind the end products.

My personal favourites:

​Aπό ξένο τόπο (Greek/Ottoman)

​Psalm 135 (Byzantine)

​Cumberland Gap (Appalachian) (and how often does that get the love it deserves, right?)

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Article

​A Man's Guide to Boots and Shoes by The Art of Manliness - This piece let me see shoes as something more than cheap ugly trainers to be thrown on for all occasions. It revealed craftsmanship, style, and variety—a much wider world than I was familiar with at the time.

It's not just a commodity, but a philosophy of dress.

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Painter

​Rinat Voligamsi - A Russian surrealist who creates familiar scenes with an absurd and curious twist in each. His art has a clear Soviet flavour, inspired by his life in the USSR, his military service, and the photos or newspaper clipping he stumbles across.

They're moody, melancholy, cosy, and sometimes a little creepy, each with an ambiguous meaning for you to uncover.

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Update

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this format—without your input, I wander in the dark and hope that it won't be a complete flop when I click send, so even just a word or emoji really helps a lot. You can even tell me it sucks ass. I won't get offended.

The aim with these is to cover a wider variety of topics that are still cool and interesting, but maybe a little more distant from the usual topics you find in the videos or the Fountain issues (which will carry on as usual, of course).

And as always, I really appreciate you reading.

Much love,

Odysseas

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