Original Thought

In the film Good Will Hunting, a pompous, pony-tailed Harvard student flexes his intellectual muscle in front of some girls as a means to embarrass the character played by Ben Affleck. Matt Damon’s character, Will Hunting, the street tough savant with the photographic memory, eventually steps in, pointing out that all of the Harvard student’s arguments are taken directly from textbooks. Hunting goes on to project that the grad student will continue to quote different established works as the curriculum progresses, but will never have an original thought of his own. The grad student contends that he’ll still be rich, whereas Hunting will be working in fast food. To which Hunting ascertains that at least he won’t be unoriginal, followed by the offer to step outside. The Harvard student declines, and Hunting, with both brains and braun, is deemed victorious, capped off later by asking the the student how he likes them apples.

The audience surely associates with Will Hunting, not only because he is the protagonist—nobody wants to be like the arrogant Michael Bolton look-a-like—but because of what Will Hunting posits: original thought. 

Original thought is sought after by all. It is why we revere those like Steve Jobs or Pablo Picasso and so many other visionaries. And yet, when it comes down to it, so many of us are more like the Harvard student, regurgitating someone else’s arguments and playing them off as our own.

Why?

Because arriving at an original thought takes work.

Of course, original thought does not mean entirely doing away with the ideas of others—remember, Will Hunting still read plenty of books, too. No, original thought involves taking that which already exists, combining it with something else, and creating something new. We have the ingredients, we just have to use the kitchen of our mind to build a new recipe. But that’s the hard part.

One approach is to study something to the utmost, and then, study the opposite with the same rigour, then take what you like from each. This is the method Deep Work author Cal Newport promotes as a means to arrive at one’s own personal opinion on something. Study one school of thought until you understand it, embody it, and then, read the best critiques of it. From there, figure out the parts from each side that you agree or disagree with. And then, continue on to another school of thought, following the same process. Over time, one will undoubtedly find arrive at a place that is utterly unique. (As an aside, Newport even mentioned during one of the early episodes of his podcast that it is the role of college students to be insufferable because they’re in the midst of figuring out their own philosophy. So, Will Hunting’s adversary was doing what he was supposed to do at that age—but if he doesn’t do the additional steps, he will remain insufferable.)

The work lies in going beyond the face value of what already exists and thinking about what it really means, questioning it, and ultimately figuring out where it may apply in our lives or the lives of others. It is not about reading the words on a page, but absorbing the message those words convey.

In a local play entitled The Exquisite Hour, a woman selling encyclopedias in the 1960s includes as part of her sales pitch that the information within the books should not simply be read, but reflected upon. After each entry she encourages the prospective buyer to ask himself, “What do I think about that?”

Alas, after reading a passage, she poses the question to the prospective buyer, a middle-aged bachelor who spends his days in the office or visiting with neighbours, he instinctively answers, “That’s interesting.”

It is, what Viggo Mortensen’s character in Captain Fantastic would call, a non-answer. This is due to the customer having never actually thought for himself before. His entire life is dominated by rules and orders given by others, having never taken the time to think things through. The saleswoman goes on to share what she thinks about an entry. Her exploration is imaginative as she searches for meaning beyond the words. And, after a couple rounds of asking “What do I think about that?” the customer comes around to her line of thinking. The whole experience is invigorating—it also helps that there is a romantic element is at play—but it does not come easy at first. The customer has to mentally strain himself to think in such a way. But it is something we all must do.

We’d all do well to pose the question to ourselves: “What do I think about that?” And actually try to answer it. And then, when we think we’ve figured it out, we should seek out something that upends our original thinking. And then question that. And continue on with such a practice. With enough time and questioning, we will arrive at our own original thoughts about life. And nobody will be able to call us unoriginal.