I’m Tired of Hot-Button Think Pieces
We sacrifice connection when we outsource our decisions and opinions to strangers.
I came across a Note on Substack the other day that essentially said, “Where are the personal essays on here? I’m tired of reading pieces trying to convince me of what I should think…” I’m paraphrasing, drastically—I can no longer find the quote, but that was what I took away from it.
Yes, me too, I thought as I read it: Can we please stop with the onslaught of opinion pieces telling people what to think and believe?
Of course, no one is literally asking us to think or believe anything: it’s the nature of the news and people on the internet to try and sell something to viewers, whether that is a product or an idea or the “right way” of doing things. We see this in all sorts of industries: selling the idea that you “need” this or that, or that you “should” be thinking this or that way is how companies stay in business. Believing them means you’ll buy their product, sign up for their newsletters, or think like they do.
It’s possible that my aversion to being told what to think is a result of simply outgrowing the kind of content I’ve previously been subscribed to. Most self-help books now make me gag; podcasts about how to maximize your body or life’s potential make my eyes roll; any video trying to “educate me” about what is correct makes me shut off the computer.
Perhaps this means I’m destined for a life far off the internet—and lo and behold, I’m mostly off of it.
Beyond being tired of the internet—and I do apologize, to all of the people who have faithfully read my words for the last year, because I have beaten this topic into the ground—I am also tired of the cultural idea that we need somebody else to tell us what to think, do, buy, or decide. There are far too many professionals, legitimate ones or not, handing out advice everywhere we turn; Other People’s Opinions constantly barrage us, insisting we take them seriously.
Think: how often do we automatically search Google, or consult AI, instead of calling a friend to help us work through something? It’s incredible that so much information is at our fingertips at any given moment: and, what do we lose by relying upon that, instead of consulting our own minds and the wisdom we already hold?
Our minds are malleable to input: what we mentally consume will shape our decisions and ideas, whether we intend for it to or not. Rushing to acquire answers on the internet or from someone who barely knows us—or simply being fed answers, before we even knew we needed one—can erode our intuitive judgment, weaken our critical thinking muscles. Compulsively basing our decisions or opinions off of this kind of immediate advice—even if we don’t realize we’re doing it—short-circuits the lengthier, self-reflective process of figuring out what’s right for us, of determining for ourselves what we need or think.
The belief that we already have everything we need within us to make good decisions doesn’t sell as many books. It’s not as flashy. This is not to say that we are all-powerful beings who know everything; sometimes, the decision that will be most right for us is to seek a professional opinion, or to follow what someone else tried. However, it is to say that we ought to trust ourselves; that we ought to do the deeper work of thinking about our values instead of letting other people tell them to us. Let us let introspection lead before outsourcing to Other People’s Opinions.
The quote that inspired this reflection came from someone expressing a desire to read personal essays instead of hot-button think pieces. Ultimately, this read to me as a desire for more thoughtful connection, rather than thoughtless consumption. While think pieces generally exist to prove something to its readers, narratives emphasize relationship, which prompts more self-reflection and potential growth.
I think one of the reasons we outsource our decisions and become swept up in Other People’s Opinions stems from a deeper desire for authentic connection, with ourselves and with others. The choice to prioritize authentic connection over consumption lies at our fingertips: not in our phones, but from our ability to put the phones down.
The answers we seek likely lie not in the advice of a stranger, but in connection and in introspection. Let us remember that.
Maggie