Musings #1 - Sam

I recently sat down with Sam Li, a close friend from college who meaningfully grapples with questions of mindfulness and tech in his creative, professional, and personal life. Sam and I were part of the same 34-person major, and the depth of our relationship is informed by our having shared the same space for many many hours – sometimes days – and sometimes not in the United States (if you know, you know). In the time that I’ve known Sam, I’ve watched him create a space himself in the tech field, producing related content (see Mindful Morsels), co-founding the Georgetown chapter of Product Space, and generally making it known that he is informed on the subject (more on that later).

My conversation with Sam touched on a wide range of topics, spanning free will, time management, capitalism, school-related “trauma,” environmentalism, and existentialism. Below, I share what I consider to be some of the highlights – the takes that really made me think.

“Having an informed opinion means being able to teach someone else and educate them.”

I started my conversation with Sam by asking, “Do you trust the average person to have an informed opinion about the hot-button issues in American politics?” He laughed, then promptly responded “No – I don’t have enough faith in humanity.” I followed up by asking whether he thought this was a problem – does he think that the average person should have an informed opinion on these topics?

Not exactly, he responded. “I think people need three to five issues, pertaining to their life, that they should be solid on. They shouldn’t know everything, but they should be able to explain it to other people.” On “everything else,” they should keep an open mind, but not necessarily have an “informed opinion.” As Sam made these distinctions, it dawned on me that we needed to take a step back and first define how exactly he conceptualizes having an “informed opinion.”

“Having an informed opinion means being able to teach someone else, and educate them,” Sam responded. Educating someone is not, he clarified, just “lecturing down” or “inserting dogma.” Rather, it’s communicating with the goal of comprehensibility – “Can someone else explain what you’re trying to?”

I’ve found that people tend to view having informed opinions as an individual responsibility. An unintended consequence of this view is that people tend to attribute individual blame for opinions that they disagree with. Sam’s characterization of “informed opinions,” however, implicitly rejects the individualist framework, explicitly placing the concept into a social context. From our conversation, I gathered that Sam views informed opinions as being constantly (1) Shaped by a dynamic set of sources (e.g., news, experiences, other people) and (2) Validated (deemed “informed” or not) within a social context.

“To be informed, you need to have thick skin. You need to feel challenged.”

Now that we had settled on a working definition for “informed opinion,” I proceeded to ask Sam what exactly goes into having an informed opinion. And, going back to the initial question – Why didn’t he think that most people have an informed opinion?

“To be informed, you need to have thick skin. You need to feel challenged,” he responded. In Sam’s view, informed opinions are shaped by different perspectives, crucially those that are totally opposite your own. Thus, someone who is conservative, for instance, could stay informed by reading The New York Times. Unfortunately, though, Sam doesn’t believe that most people seek that sort of challenge. Rather, they consume news “already hav[ing] a view about their group being right.” They’re not able to see the nuances of what they read and consume, which is “the first step to being able to talk about these issues” (i.e., assert an informed opinion).

It’s hard, he continued, because “A lot of it is free will, free choice.” Earlier, Sam had disclosed that considers himself to have an informed opinion (at least, “on three to five important issues”). When reflecting on this achievement, he concedes that he feels “lucky” that reading the news is part of his job (Sam is a Podcast Producer at FIRE, a free speech organization). “It’s harder when your job is not related to that.”

From Sam’s response, I was able to discern three main obstacles to having an informed opinion: (1) Time – finding time outside of work and other commitments; (2) Ego – having the desire to use your leisure time for discomfort; and (3) Motivation – having the mental energy to use your leisure time for discomfort.

In my view, these are all valid reasons. I’m not sure there’s anything that can be done about time constraints – most people have to work to make a living. But, it’s possible to address the latter two; we just have to think creatively. What interventions cultivate changes in how people spend their free time? (My mind instantly drifts to social media.) What interventions alleviate the cognitive load of critical reflection? (How does the average person integrate critical reflection into their day-to-day existence?)

“AI tools are accessible on the surface but it takes time to get the feel of it. Just like any tool or instrument, tech companies have this incentive to sell up the use of AI. But in reality, the majority of the population barely knows how to use it.”

The second segment of my conversation with Sam centered around AI. A few disclosures to start – Sam described himself as an “AI optimist.” He considers himself a 7/10 in familiarity with AI, 10/10 in propensity to use AI tools, and 8/10 in interest in learning new AI tools. When I asked him to explain his answers, our conversation shifted to AI accessibility.

“AI tools are accessible on the surface but it takes time to get the feel of it. Just like any tool or instrument, tech companies have this incentive to sell up the use of AI. But in reality, the majority of the population barely knows how to use it.”

Sam’s comment points to the existence of an AI divide, which is effectively the latest iteration of the more established “digital divide” (see Stanford CS, “Digital Divide”). Specifically, though, he suggests that this divide may be more than just an inevitability, but something that is actively reinforced by tech companies. Indeed, the AI revolution has unfolded almost entirely in the private sector, and further, led mostly by big tech companies that have already monopolized many aspects of people’s digital experiences. The identifiably capitalist, profit-maximizing way that AI has proliferated our contemporary society has direct equity implications.

“I think the meaning of [critical thinking] is better than the phrase, which is just to be skeptical and not take things at face value. But sometimes at school, you need to take things at face value and make something for the professor.”

The third and final section of the interview was about the concept of “critical thinking.” To me, the phrase represents a process of questioning reality with the purpose of getting a truer understanding of that reality. While I love the phrase and everything that it represents, my conversations with others on the subject have given me the sense that the phrase may not have widespread appeal. So, I asked Sam, “When you hear the term ‘critical thinking,’ what do you think of?” Sam’s response was not unexpected: “The classroom. I hear it there most because it’s ingrained in professors to say it.”

Sam’s tone – a bit tired and sarcastic – made it clear that he didn’t see the term in an especially positive light. He elaborated, “I think the meaning of it is better than the phrase, which is just to be skeptical and not take things at face value. But sometimes at school, you need to take things at face value and make something for the professor.”

From this comment, I extrapolated that Sam viewed the concept of “critical thinking” as disingenuous. His qualms point to a real and significant issue in American education today: its failure to actually get students to actually think critically. Having recently graduated from school myself, it is obvious what Sam is critiquing – the discussion boards that professors don’t actually read, the assignments you get just for the sake of having “work,” and the participation rubrics that reward quantity, not quality. Professors will tell you to think critically for all of these things. But you know that there are better ways of doing things, ways that will require less work, seem more impressive, and result in a higher grade.

Sam and I agreed that critical thinking, in its most fundamental form, is important far beyond a school context. So when the institution that purports to develop this skill doesn’t actually do a good job, that becomes a social issue.

“Once you leave school, that model of going to professors’ office hours, you ask, they answer [doesn’t work anymore]. In the workplace, you need to come with your ideas, and then workshop. That’s the more advanced and lifelong way of doing it.”

Eventually, we bracketed our divergent views on the connotations of “critical thinking” and continued discussing the concept in terms of what it formally represents – which, to quote Sam, is “be[ing] skeptical and not tak[ing] things at face value.” I asked Sam to describe his process for critical thinking, and he started by emphasizing that the process doesn’t necessarily begin intentionally. “I’m not like, oh, I’m thinking critically.” Rather, for Sam, it’s a natural, intuitive response that begins with a question: “What are the holes?” Explaining his motivations, he said, “Things can always be better. You can always be thinking better.”

I followed up, “What happens when you run into roadblocks?” Sam responded that he needs “to think through it first.” “I don’t jump to someone else. Because I feel like if I haven’t fully thought it through in my head, it won’t be helpful to talk to someone. I’ll only ask someone if I feel I’ve covered my blindspots.”

Sam feels strongly about maintaining independence in the early stages of his critical thinking process. “Once you leave school, that model of going to professors’ office hours, you ask, they answer [doesn’t work anymore]. In the workplace, you need to come with your ideas, and then workshop. That’s the more advanced and lifelong way of doing it.” His later elaborations were more blunt: “You should assume the person you’re asking for help is busier. No one wants to constantly just be on call to answer your questions.”

It’s interesting to note that Sam’s views were informed by what he thought would be best for everyone, and not just what would be best for the person thinking. For example, he is mindful that other people may be busy and unavailable to provide support. I fully understand where Sam’s coming from and I don’t disagree. Certainly, it is harmful to be over-reliant on others, especially when that places an undue burden on that other person. But I can’t help but think of my high school self, up at 4 am the night before an essay deadline, completely paralyzed by the fear that my thoughts would be indecipherable to another person. In those isolating moments, I could’ve really used some external validation.

Beyond those initial stages, though, Sam believes strongly that critical thinking cannot occur within a vacuum. Our conversation ended on a similar note as it started: “Critical thinking truly evolves when you bring your ideas and become totally comfortable with having them blown away.”

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If you’re interested in learning more about Sam…

Sam H Li is here to help young professionals do more. With less. As a podcast producer, creative director, and Notion ambassador, he creates tools for a balanced life. As Notion content creator “samhli”, he reaches 10k+ accounts on Instagram, have 24k+ views on YouTube, and talk with 1.4k+ followers on LinkedIn.