Doubt Is a Good Thing
On finding your own answers
To the deep thinkers,
Welcome to the Deep Thinkers Newsletter: A collection of essays dedicated to going beyond the surface.
If you’re new here, check out the Deep Thinkers archive.
There is a story I once heard about a young man who was desperate to find a mentor. Not just any mentor either. He was searching for someone who could help him become the very best version of himself. He sought wisdom and desired to understand reality and the forces he couldn’t see.
One day he found the mentor he’d been searching for in a retired football coach he’d met while volunteering at a local church. The former coach was well-respected in the community because he offered wisdom that extended well beyond the football field and was regarded as a man of great character.
Before long the young man had become a disciple, learning about philosophy, relationships, hard work, and the importance of living with integrity. This was the teacher he’d been searching for.
But after a few years, the young man’s mentor told him he would no longer teach him. This troubled the young man deeply. He couldn’t understand why he was being turned away, after so much time at his teacher’s side.
He wondered: What did I do wrong?
The young man demanded an explanation, and his teacher looked at him and said:
“I’ve taught you all that I can. You will never be any more than you are right now if you remain by my side, blindly following my teachings. You must go out into the world and put what I’ve taught you to the test.”
The young man couldn’t see it, but his progress had stagnated. He’d chosen to follow and believe one man, never once doubting his mentor’s words. But the former coach told the young man this wasn’t a good thing. He told him doubt was necessary. It was doubt that kept his own curiosity and hunger for knowledge alive.
And if the young man was not nudged out into the world (armed with plenty of beliefs to put to the test), blind acceptance would undo all the progress he’d made.
The seeds of doubt
I grew up in a strict Christian home. Anything that wasn’t giving praise to God was considered Devil worship. When I finally had the freedom to walk my own path and form my own belief system, I was consumed by bitterness, frustration, and doubt.
I found it difficult to reconcile what I’d been taught with what I was seeing through direct experiences and my own line of questioning. I had to strip away every belief that had been forced on me when I was a child. I had to learn to trust myself—a concept that felt foreign to me.
Interestingly enough, the further I strayed from the dogmas of my childhood, the closer I felt to God.
I’d been taught that doubt would only hinder my spirituality, but it seemed a bit of doubt was exactly what I needed. Doubt nudged me to connect with the world around me. It compelled me to ask more questions (of myself, of my beliefs, of everything).
I wondered: Do my beliefs align with my reality and the way I am living my life?
So many people keep the beliefs they were handed as kids and never take the time to question them.
They will instead hold on, with an iron grip, to whatever their religion, or society, or the culture says. Rather than building their own belief systems, they’ll take the baton of beliefs they were handed and then run a race they were never meant to participate in.
The process of doubting even your own mentors reminds me of this quote by Friedrich Nietzsche:
“I now go alone, my disciples! You too go now, alone! Thus I want it. I advise you: depart from me, and guard yourselves against Zarathustra! And better still: be ashamed of him! Perhaps he has deceived you.”
For as long as I live, I never want to stay stuck in only one way of thinking or seeing the world. I’m always probing, inspecting, inquiring.
The more I inspect the rules of the world, the more I realize that nobody knows anything for certain.
This realization might scare some, but I think it’s extremely liberating. I’ve learned to become comfortable with uncertainty. It’s the uncertainty and the process of discovery that keeps me in motion. It is the reason why I write this newsletter. I want to push back against shallow explanations and blind acceptance. I want to go beyond the surface.
The road to nihilism and despair
Faith typically holds religious connections, but it can be applied to anything. You can have faith in a political system, in a person, or in your dreams. Doubt is usually seen as an enemy of faith, but I see it as the opposite. Doubt is a very normal and very human thing to experience, no matter your level of faith.
Life is imperfect. It’s unfair. We often go through trials that can feel like too much to bear. So many people in the world go through unspeakable horrors. The anger and frustration that stems from these moments of pain and trauma can lead us to doubt our beliefs—to toss the very concept of hope to the side.
The anger and the doubt are not the problem. The problem lies in becoming passive or overly negative. This road leads to nihilism and despair, where nothing matters and everything is awful. In other words, the road leads to victimization and self-pity.
Rather than treating your doubts like something to run and hide from, use them to make you an active participant in your life. Ask the difficult questions and test your ideas and beliefs. Mold your worldview rather than waiting for someone to hand you theirs.
It’s easier to accept what you’ve been told. It’s harder to think for yourself—to challenge what everyone else around you accepts.
Your faith—whatever shape it takes and in whatever you choose to place it in — is a very personal thing. As you grow and learn new information, stay receptive to refining your beliefs.
It’s a beautiful thing—the free will to craft your own belief system. So don’t despair when you feel doubt. Because through your doubts, you can find the answers you’ve been searching for your entire life.
What I’m into this week:
“Nervousness means there’s a fear to be faced ahead, Diago. The man who is never nervous, never does anything hard. The man who is never nervous, never grows.”
—James Islignton, The Will of the Many
Thanks for reading. If this post resonated with you, I’d love to read your thoughts in the comments below.
Much love,
- Jon ♾️
The paradox of doubt is that it does not weaken faith, it tempers it. Like fire to steel, the presence of doubt refines what would otherwise remain brittle belief inherited by default.
This piece captures that crucible well: the shedding of secondhand truths, the heartbreak of outgrowing a mentor, and the sacred loneliness that descends when one finally stands on the edge of their own convictions.
You remind us that belief without testing becomes dogma; doubt without movement becomes despair. But when doubt is paired with courage, it becomes a forge. You walk that edge here, not cynically, not passively, but as someone inviting us to live in the open questions.
And that, perhaps, is the final initiation: not being given an answer, but being entrusted with the question.
"The anger and the doubt are not the problem. The problem lies in becoming passive or overly negative." I'm just now waking up to the reality that our emotions aren't the problem, but indulging in them is. We're human, so we can feel them, but we must realize they're something that spring from us, instead of something that happens to us. We have all the control.