5 Ways Learning "Irrelevant" Knowledge Improves Your Life, Thinking, and Creativity
Why we should study random stuff, outside of our professions and projects; a defense of learning for learning's sake
This is a slight rewrite of an essay I published several months ago that, perhaps due to the title and packaging, didn’t reach as many readers as I had hoped it would, considering the importance of the topic.
Intellectual curiosity is often regarded with suspicion in American culture.
“Why are you studying philosophy if you’re not going to be a Philosophy professor?”
“Because I like learning about it,” the curious autodidact responds.
“But you’re a marketer by trade—why don’t you read up on marketing to make some more money?”
Pursuing authentic interests without financial or career considerations should be celebrated, not chastised as a silly waste of time you could spend padding your coffers with cash.
A society that evaluates every activity through the lens of financial payoff or status is a sick one.
Besides, there is tremendous value in acquiring seemingly irrelevant knowledge.
And not only because it’s fun to stimulate your mind, but also because the knowledge we think is irrelevant often proves useful later on, in some unexpected way.
It’s hard to know how information you encounter will change our philosophy of life, inspire us creatively, or help us connect the dots to solve some problem in our lives.
Gaining wisdom is a mysterious process!
So here’s my approach to defending learning for learning’s sake.
I’m going to share 5 ways that random, broad, “impractical” learning—especially reading books that have no relation to your goals or projects—is far more relevant and impactful to your life than you may think. Winning at trivia is not one of them.
Hopefully, this article will help you guard yourself against arguments, originating inside or outside your own mind, that are trying to convince you to never learn or read anything unless it’ll pay off immediately in the form of money, success, or status.
Here we go.
1. It’s all grist for the mill
The proverb, “it’s all grist for the mill,” is the belief that every piece of information—even seemingly irrelevant or trivial knowledge—will at some point come in handy.
It’s one of my favorite sayings, not just because it gives my pragmatic brain the liberty to mess around in subjects that bear no relation to my projects or challenges, but because it’s proven true so far in my life.
Many times in my life, knowledge gained in the past has helped me accomplish, or better understand, something I’m going through in the present—be it a tough business decision, an article I’m writing, or a conversation with a friend.
I’m not alone in this experience of past learnings that felt random at the time, suddenly surfacing at exactly the right moment.
Take Harry Truman. When he was reading Plutarch’s Parallel Lives as a young man, he had no clue that later in life, when he was president, the wisdom he gained about human nature from that 2nd century collection of biographical essays would help him understand, read, and negotiate with peers and foreign leaders.
Again, wisdom works in mysterious ways.
Some examples of random knowledge serving as grist for the mill:
A writer describes the flowers at a wedding using the terminology of astronomy
A party-goer tells a witty joke that rested on her ability to reference literary figures
A scientist dreams up a new physics experiment inspired by a psychology experiment
A contractor trying to close a sales deal recalls the way a protagonist in a novel persuaded a similar type of person
A marketer remembers from his history reading the cause of a huge social trend and thinks of how he can create a similar catalyst
When we read randomly, we fill ourselves up with all sorts of ideas, tactics, insights, and perspectives that will, often in some way we cannot foresee, help us solve some problem or produce something of value in the future. Random reading is not useless reading!
2. Develop your philosophy of life
Your philosophy of life is your unique perspective on things—your POV.
Almost everyone has a philosophy of life, but very few have a nuanced, wise, personal, and useful one.
Some peoples’ boils down to “Life is pointless, so I might as well dedicate myself to doing absolutely nothing.”
My 18-year-old self’s philosophy of life was probably pretty close to: “Be cool, have fun, and hang out with friends”.
Boring!
Perhaps that’s why most people just conform to what everyone else is doing. Their philosophy of life isn’t compelling enough to keep them from following paths of least resistance.
How do you develop your philosophy of life?
Having experiences and reflecting on them helps, of course.
But, to speed things up, you can also simulate experiences through wide reading. That is exactly what Jack London recommends.
To London, the key to creative originality was a philosophy of life, and the way to get a personal philosophy was broad study.
“The only way of gaining this philosophy is by seeking it, by drawing the materials which go to compose it from the knowledge and culture of the world.”
He continues, discussing the value of acquiring broad knowledge across subjects, writing to the skeptic:
“What do you know of history, biology, evolution, ethics, and the thousand and one branches of knowledge? “But,” you object, “I fail to see how such things can aid me in the writing of a romance or a poem.” Ah, but they will—not so much directly as by subtle reaction. They broaden your thought, lengthen out your vistas, drive back the bounds of the field in which you work. They give you your philosophy, which is like unto no other man’s philosophy, force you to original thought.”
Every bit of information you encounter and consider shapes your philosophy of life. To form an original, useful one, take in quality ideas, stories, and thoughts from a broad spectrum of thinkers across many different fields.
Synthesize what the brightest have to say about how to live, and then tweak it to fit your own predilections, values, goals, and life situation.
Also, check out Paul Musso, PhD ‘s work on building a personal micro-philosophy—he understands this concept much better than I do.
3. Discover your authentic interests and callings
In the book “Range: Why Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World”, David Epstein shows that world-class performers often go through a sampling period: a phase of exploring diverse interests before committing to specialization in one.
This rule directly relates to leading a fulfilling intellectual life.
One has to test out many disciplines and subdisciplines, paying special attention to their level of curiosity and abilities, before they can pick a few to master.
Imagine if at 24, I decided not to study US revolutionary history because it was unrelated to my sales quota and writing goals.
I wouldn’t have realized my deep interest in The Founding Fathers, and I may have never written 5+ articles on the self-educations of these historical figures, the seed for my new biographical series “Thinkers”.
Further, I would never have discovered an area of knowledge that is, to this day, a place for intellectual adventure and respite from the more practical learning I’m doing.
We should sample new fields every couple of months or years. For all we know, that subject could very well lead us to our next big profession, project, or obsession.
Reading may even help us discover our calling—or, as Robert Greene calls it, our life’s task.
4. Unlock creative, interdisciplinary thinking
What made Leonardo Da Vinci’s work so compelling was his ability to combine seemingly unrelated concepts from different fields into new and interesting ideas.
His creative process was like bashing two stars from different galaxies together. The result: a supernova of creative originality.
This is the power of the polymath, the promiscuous lifelong learner.
Thanks to your broad knowledge, you can look at a problem and bring unique insights, methods, and perspectives from multiple disciplines. You have more tools in your toolkit.
For example, take the creation of my long-term self-education planning framework. I was desperately trying to balance random reading and practical reading, breadth and depth, and pursue multiple interests while gaining mastery in one.
I needed to create a way to go about my self-education that hit all those marks. The revelation came when I was studying a project management topic: prioritization systems. Immediately, I had the idea of the 4-pronged approach to designing my self-education.
Sometimes the solution to your problems is hiding in that random book you flip through in the library. You never know!
5. Foster social connection and deepen relationships
The most interesting person in the room is usually also the most interested person in the room:
Interested in other people.
Interested in life.
Interested in a wide range of topics.
A person with wide-ranging interests inevitably studies and learns about a wide range of topics. And this breadth of understanding enables them to enter many different conversations:
Discussing Spanish cooking techniques with the host of the dinner party
Talking Russian history with the father
Playing backgammon with the niece
Debating international affairs with the drunk uncle
You don’t need to be an expert to talk engagingly about a subject.
You just need to know enough of the basic terminology and concepts to understand the speaker, add commentary every once in a while, and ask relevant questions.
They don’t even have to be very good questions. If you’re talking to someone about their favorite subject, and letting them riff, they’ll love you for it, and you’ll have fun, provided you have enough contextual knowledge to engage.
(another reason I hate talking sports betting; I can’t for the life of me work up the interest to learn about it, so when someone says “the line” I zone out.
The ability to talk with a wide range of people about their specific interests will open doors for you.
People will say you’re sharp. They’ll think you’re interesting.
They may even hand over the deed to their house if you talk with them about their esoteric interest in the history of whaling—all because you chose to be, in your reading life, broadly interested.
Creating balance in your self-education between reactive, project-based learning and curiosity-driven “random” learning
The battle between practical and impractical learning shouldn’t exist.
First of all, almost all knowledge is practical in one way or another, as I’ve hopefully made clear in this article.
But we should also strive to include both vocational and curiosity-driven learning in our daily lives.
For example, I study classic literature every afternoon. And I study history and other subjects in the evening. That’s my liberal self-education, my “impractical” reading—though I hate that term.
And, then, throughout the week, as I’m working on projects, I learn new skills and concepts that I need to complete them. And I do deliberate practice to improve as a writer. And I read to research topics I’m writing about. These are the more project-driven learning activities.
A fulfilling intellectual life includes both the immediately applicable and the potentially applicable.
So enjoy your forays into random subjects. Know in your heart that these intellectual adventures are more beneficial than others may think. You never know what treasures you’ll bring up.
And never let anyone tell you that reading a book outside your field or unrelated to your current projects is pointless.
If someone does, politely call them a philistine, quote some dead philosopher, and scare them off with a barbaric YAWP!


Any irrelevant knowledge is relevant if it can make you sound smart at parties.
Speaking of Americans apparently believing that learning supposedly "impractical" stuff would be a worthless use of one's time, because, supposedly, such efforts will never benefit one financially, it is funny that so many Americans will watch sports and will watch television shows such as sit-coms in spite of the very fact not only that almost none of them will ever earn money from such passive pastimes but that they would realize they likely never will.
And, yet, such pastimes are considered entirely worthy uses of one's time, while, apparently, many deem learning so-called "impractical" knowledge to be the opposite of worthy and the opposite of worthwhile?