Richard Feynman, a famous physicist who worked on the Manhattan Project, in an interview, was asked, from a fundamental standpoint, why two magnets either attract or repel one another. Feynman articulated a response that had little to do with magnets, but with the nature of asking “why” anything happens. 

He said that he could have answered the magnet question by referencing the “magnetic force” that is present in all magnets, a surface level explanation which would’ve satisfied the majority of inquirers. However, Feynman recognized that the interviewer wished for a deeper answer, but he couldn’t tell how deep he should delve into the explanation. He argued that regardless of whatever answer he gave, this would open doors for new questions to be asked. For any response to a “why” question to be satisfactory, one must be willing to accept certain propositions as being self-evidently true. These propositions provide a foundation for the explanation to rest on.  

I thought about this. Physicists are tasked with piecing together the puzzle of our universe. However, Richard Feynman, one of the most renowned physicists, has transparently stated that it’s a puzzle that will never be completed. But if that puzzle was complete, physicists would cease to exist. 

As children, we’re taught to ask interrogative questions. I’d enter a perpetual why loop, often annoying my parents. But we aren’t taught that all knowledge is finite – we find that out on our own. 

It’s hard to walk that line between when to be a skeptic or not. On one hand, being a skeptic is sometimes looked up upon as a positive attitude, and some of our most foundational truths were, in part, discovered because of disruptive skepticism. But if we’re always skeptical, it’s hard to validate our current progress as a species. We can’t take every meaningful discovery we’ve made with a grain of salt just because it’s likely limited by our current understanding. 

There are innumerable examples of technological innovations that have brought forth an improved quality of life, such as the cell-phone, the internet, etc. It’s fascinating to me that, in spite of our inherently incomplete knowledge, we can still create useful applications. Applications, to me, are the ultimate validation of any discovery, insulating them from any skeptical judgment. If the theory is so inherently wrong, how was I able to extract something tangible out of it? 

Bolstering this point, Engineering is one of the most important fields in our society. Engineers essentially work within a sandbox of the current laws of physics, figuring out creative ways to apply them. They don’t need to concern themselves with the fundamental nature of these laws, but rather how they can improve our lives. 

The division of labor we’ve created in our society is a prime example of why we should be okay with not knowing everything. Our jobs are specialized. If I’m a software engineer, I don’t need to know how food is processed, or how electricity gets carried to my house. If there’s something I need that I can’t do, I can outsource it to someone else. But that wasn’t a luxury afforded to us thousands of years ago – we had many more responsibilities back then, ranging from foraging food as hunter-gatherers to creating our own tools. Everyone loves a renaissance man, but it’s not feasible for everyone to be one. 

It can be hard to cope with the anxiety of not knowing. If I’m waiting for an imminent test score, I’m likely going to be on edge. It’s easy to fall into a “what-if” rabbit-hole. Just like with science, some knowledge is simply out of reach, and reminding yourself that you shouldn’t concern yourself with things outside your control can be helpful. Who knows how a certain person feels about you? 

Imagine a world where we knew everything. I contrived a thought experiment in which I had the choice to fast-forward in time to see what the future had in stock for me. But in that scenario, I’d definitely decline. Knowledge is empowering, but I find comfort in the unknown. We dedicate our lives to try and understand the world around us. Being able to separate fact from fiction is a fundamental aspect of human curiosity. If everything was known, life would be meaningless. 

We’re bound by rules, both physical and social. Questioning those rules is healthy, but there’s a fine line between truth-seeker and conspiracy theorist. Sometimes, we have to be okay with “not knowing” simply for our own sanity.