Imagination Isn’t Optional. It’s Foundational.

Image “The Horse That Waited” by Dee Harris. CC-BY-4.0.

We often ask young people, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It sounds supportive. But baked into that question is the idea that life is a straight line. The goal is to pick a role, stay the course, and advance up the ladder.

What we don’t ask enough is: “What are you curious about?”

That tiny shift in language points to a much bigger change in mindset. When we treat life like a checklist instead of an unfolding, we don’t just limit our own growth; we teach the next generation to optimize instead of reflect or dream. To comply instead of questioning. To execute instead of create.

And that’s a problem.

We’re living in a world full of complexity: climate disruption, AI ethics, polarization, mental health crises (to name a few). These aren’t problems with clean answers or pre-written solutions. They require people who can think across boundaries. Remix old ideas. Sit with uncertainty. And ask: “What might be possible here that we haven’t yet considered?”

That’s what imagination helps us do. It doesn’t hand us the answer. It expands what we can even conceive as possible.

A growing body of research tells us that creativity is not just a gift. It’s a capacity. Teachable. Measurable. Deeply tied to resilience, innovation, and adaptive thinking. Studies show that people trained in imaginative reasoning solve problems more effectively. Leading scientists and inventors often engage deeply in the arts. Even the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development includes perspective-taking and reflective judgment as critical skills for an uncertain world.

And yet.

The systems we’ve built send a different message. We reward speed, certainty, and standardization. We cut arts programs to make room for test prep. We silo disciplines. We label divergent thinkers as difficult, distracted, or disruptive.

And somewhere along the way (from childhood into adulthood), many of us stop wondering aloud. Not because we’ve lost the desire. But because it feels safer, easier, to fit in.

The cost?

We lose our originality. We stop trusting our own ideas. And those are the very ideas we need most, especially when the old answers no longer work, or when AI is churning out infinite versions of the same.

Curiosity, at its core, challenges. It invites us to see differently. To disrupt what’s assumed. To imagine what could be.

And paying attention to your own innate curiosity? That’s not just a personal choice. It’s a daily act of courage.

So how do we shift?

Start small.

Applaud the student who sees a different angle, not just the one with the perfect score. Smile at the colleague who offers a question. Create space where creative thinking isn’t just tolerated, but welcomed.

Let’s stop acting like imagination belongs to “the creatives.” It belongs to all of us. It’s what makes us human. It’s what sparks change. And it’s what brings meaning, purpose, and joy.

Let’s raise more wonderers and wanderers. Let’s reward the zigzag. Let’s trust the explorers.

They may just lead us somewhere we’ve never been, but always needed to go.