There's a creeping anti-creative mindset infiltrating our culture.

It's championed by folks who wear their disdain for fiction as a badge of honor, dismissing novels as frivolous distractions from "real" learning. This perspective, born from our society's growing data-driven obsession with efficiency, fails to grasp the profound value of storytelling. In their pursuit of cold, hard facts, these wannabe pragmatists are unwittingly cutting themselves off from one of humanity's most powerful tools for understanding the world and ourselves.

And it's complete bullshit.

This mindset gets worn like a badge of honor by self-proclaimed rationalists, productivity obsessives, hustle bros and narrow minded science types.

And it goes something like this:

Fiction relies on made-up characters, plots, and metaphors to explore aspects of reality and human nature. Therefore, it's an inefficient way to learn. Why bother with all that fluff when you could just dive straight into the core ideas?

On the surface, that might sound logical.

After all, we're living in the age of information overload. Time is precious. Why not cut to the chase and absorb knowledge in its purest form?

Well,

Because that's not the way knowledge fucking works.

This view fundamentally misunderstands the human brain, how we process information, and what it means to learn.

Your brain doesn't really distinguish between fiction and reality as much as you'd like to think. When you're engrossed in a good story, your neural circuits light up as if you're actually experiencing the events. It isn't passive entertainment - it's a full-on cognitive workout.

You're not just reading about a character's triumph or heartbreak; you're feeling it. Your palms might sweat, your heart might race, and for a brief moment, you're living a life that isn't yours. This is your brain building new neural pathways, expanding your capacity for empathy, and yes, learning.

Our brains are wired for narrative. We've been telling stories since we first huddled around fires, trying to make sense of the big, scary world around us. It's how we process information, how we connect with others, and how we understand ourselves. Stripping away the story often means stripping away the very thing that makes an idea stick.

When's the last time you remembered a statistic or a dry fact for more than a few minutes? Now, when's the last time you forgot the plot of your favorite movie or book? Yeah, I fucking thought so.

Stories have a way of burrowing into our minds, setting up shop, and influencing our thoughts and behaviors long after we've closed the book or left the theater.

Sure, not all fiction is created equal. For every mind-bending, perspective-shifting novel out there, there's a mountain of pulp that's about as intellectually nutritious as a bag of stale chips. And again, sure, if you're looking to learn about quantum physics or the intricacies of geopolitics, you're probably better off hitting the textbooks or scholarly articles.

But even in non-fiction, we're still dealing with narratives. Every author, no matter how objective they claim to be, is crafting a story. They're selecting which facts to include, which to omit, and how to string them together in a way that makes sense. In a way, we're always reading fiction - it's just a matter of degree.

So when someone says they find it "more efficient" to learn core ideas directly, we've got to ask: what does "directly" even mean when everything is filtered through someone's perspective?

The line between fiction and non-fiction, between story and reality, is a lot blurrier than we'd like to admit. Our entire lives are built on narratives - the stories we tell ourselves about who we are, what we're capable of, and how the world works.

You think you're making rational decisions based on cold, hard facts? Think again. Every choice you make is influenced by the narratives you've internalized, many of which you picked up from - you guessed it - stories.

Look at the big picture of human progress. The most revolutionary ideas, the ones that have truly changed the course of history, often started as "fiction." Science fiction has predicted and inspired countless technological advancements. Philosophical thought experiments have shaped ethical frameworks. Even religious parables, regardless of your beliefs, have profoundly influenced human behavior and our social order.

These aren't just idle tales. They're the breeding ground for the "core ideas" that our STEM-focused friends are so eager to learn directly. They're the petri dishes where we cultivate new ways of thinking, new possibilities for what could be.

Even if you're not a fan of fiction books, you're still consuming and creating fiction every day. Every time you imagine a future scenario, every time you try to understand someone else's perspective, every time you dream - you're engaging in a form of storytelling.

The human mind is a narrative engine. We can't help but string events together into coherent tales, even when there's no inherent connection. It's how we make sense of the chaotic mess of stimuli we're bombarded with every waking moment. And it's not just a passive process - these stories actively shape our reality.

The placebo effect is a perfect example of how powerful our internal narratives can be. Tell someone a sugar pill will cure their headache, and often enough, it does. The story they believe about the pill becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Their brain, convinced by the narrative, actually changes their physical reality.

This is cold, hard neuroscience. The stories we believe literally rewire our brains, changing how we perceive and interact with the world around us.

When we dismiss fiction as mere entertainment or a roundabout way of exploring ideas, we're missing the bigger picture. We're underestimating the profound impact that stories have on our lives, our societies, and our future.

Does this mean we should all abandon non-fiction and dive headfirst into a sea of novels? Of course not. There's immense value in direct learning, in grappling with ideas in their purest form. But to dismiss fiction entirely is to cut ourselves off from a fundamental aspect of human cognition and experience.

We need both. We need the rigorous analysis of non-fiction and the imaginative exploration of fiction. We need direct engagement with ideas and the indirect, often subconscious absorption that comes from losing ourselves in a story.

Those "core ideas" that the anti-fiction crowd wants to learn directly? They didn't spring fully formed from the ether. They evolved through countless iterations of storytelling, both fictional and non-fictional. They're the distilled essence of humanity's collective imagination, honed over millennia of yarn-spinning, tale-telling, and bullshitting around campfires.

When you pick up a book, whether it's a weighty tome of philosophy or a dog-eared paperback thriller, remember: you're not just reading words on a page. You're engaging in an ancient, powerful form of idea transmission. You're plugging into the collective consciousness of humanity, absorbing not just facts and figures, but ways of thinking, feeling, and being.

The next world-changing idea might not come from a textbook or a lecture. It might come from a story that sets your mind on fire, that shows you a possibility you never considered before. It might come from a work of fiction that, paradoxically, reveals a deeper truth about reality than any "direct" presentation of facts ever could.

Nobody is fucking asking you to make a cold, hard, black and white choice between fiction and non-fiction, between direct learning and storytelling. But you can't ignore the power of narrative in all its forms, and how critical leveraging it actually is to expand our understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

Reality is pretty fucking weird.

Sometimes, the only way to really get at the truth is through a lie. And that's not just a metaphor - it's a fundamental aspect of how our brains work, how we learn, and how we grow.