If you pick up the book, then you’ll probably begin at the beginning:

In the Old Town of Edinburgh, many years ago, there was a shop that sold curiosities.

Every day, as people walked by the shop, they looked in the window. They looked at the curious things on display. The alluring oddities, enticing knick-knacks and bizarre novelties captured their attention. However, nobody went into the shop.

Day after day, people looked in the window. They looked, from the same position, at whatever curious things were on display. They preferred some things to others. But nobody went into the shop.

Then, one day, a curious child passed by. She looked at the things on display. She saw them all through the same window. Naturally, she preferred some things to others. However, she was curious. So, after a while, she noticed something else. It was something that nobody else had noticed …

She noticed the window through which she was looking.

That was when she realised that it was displaying a limited number of things. It was presenting them in a particular way. And, being a curious child, she wondered what she was missing. She wanted to see things from different angles.

So, she decided to go into the shop.

I begin this way for a simple reason. The book is only for curious people. If they’re not interested in going into the shop, then it’s not for them.

I wrote this book because I think that, right now, genuine critical thinking is more important than ever. But it needs to be based on curiosity about how we make sense of the real world, not on abstract concepts that are supposed to describe the ways that we get things wrong. If we want to understand what’s going on – fake news, alternative facts, the rise in conspiracy theories, increasing polarisation, etc. – then being told why others get it wrong simply won’t cut it. We need to go back to basics. We need to remind ourselves of the limits of our own view.

If we do that, then perhaps we’ll be more humble about our own beliefs, and more tolerant of those of others. I don’t promise the right answers because I don’t know the Truth. However, after more than twenty years of studying beliefs, I do know this: when someone expresses a belief that seems extraordinary to you, you can make sense of it. You don’t need to agree with them, but you can see how they got there. And that’s a reminder that there’s a bigger picture beyond your own worldview.

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