There are things I’ve loved for decades — books, shows, music, films — that never seemed to find a wide audience. Not because they were bad, but because they expected something of the viewer. They asked you to think. To notice. To grow. And again and again, I’ve watched them fade into obscurity while the simple things — the easy, the familiar, the fast-food versions of storytelling — take over.

And I don’t think that’s because people are unintelligent.

I think it’s because, somewhere along the way, we were trained to believe that “mental comfort food” is all we need — that entertainment should relax us, not stretch us. That liking what is simple is the same thing as being satisfied.

But here’s the thing: comfort food has its place. A bowl of mac and cheese, a hot dog at a ballgame — those are good things. They’re familiar, predictable, safe. The problem isn’t that comfort exists. The problem is when comfort becomes the only category.

Because just like food, our minds have a palate. And when all we ever feed it is the equivalent of emotional fast food, we start to forget that a richer, deeper meal is even possible.

I see this every day in my classroom.

Students gravitate toward what is familiar, what is easy, what doesn’t require the risk of confusion or effort. And I don’t blame them — most of them have never been invited into complexity. They’ve been entertained, but not challenged. They’ve been given answers, but not questions. They’ve been told what to think, not taught how to think.

And yet — when you do push them, when you hand them a story or a character or a question that requires something of them — something wakes up. You can almost see it. Curiosity stirs. Insight sparks. The mind stretches — and likes it.

That’s why this isn’t a post about “people not getting it” or “I’m smarter than everyone else.” I don’t believe that. What I believe is this:

Every person is capable of more depth than they’ve been encouraged to explore.

We don’t lack intelligence. We lack invitations.

We don’t lack potential. We lack expectation.

We don’t lack hunger. We just haven’t been offered anything beyond the snack aisle.

There’s a whole world of layered stories, complex characters, thoughtful lyrics, challenging ideas — and when we engage with them, they don’t just entertain us. They grow us. They expand our imagination, our empathy, our ability to wrestle with a world that is absolutely not simple, not binary, not two-dimensional.

So here’s my invitation — to myself as much as anyone:

Let’s not easy-chair our minds. Let’s not settle for the mental hot dog just because it’s quick and familiar. Let’s treat our thoughts the way a chef treats ingredients — with care, creativity, curiosity.

There’s comfort in the simple.

But there is joy — and strength — in the layered, the thoughtful, the challenging.

And we are capable of all of it.

Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt.