I used to be bothered by the constraints of the physical world. Every opportunity felt like a dozen or more lost ones. Gradually, however, I learnt to appreciate the rules of the game. The fact that I could not be in two places at the same time began to give meaning to my choices.[1]
A side effect of this was that I became, perhaps, overly alert to situations where someone was wasting my time. I started to see these moments as opportunity costs that could have been avoided had I been sharper or more attentive.
This led me to look for red flags in conversations, debates, and relationships. Once I had enough reason to believe something was a waste of time, I would bail out without hesitation or guilt.
Some people would see this as defeat, but I could not care less. It is a personal trait that I often struggle to make others believe. To some, it seems impossible not to care about what others say or think about you. To me, unless I am willing to sacrifice my life to make yours better, how you see me has no real value.
It’s your life. View me however you like. Agree or disagree. I am open to rational debate in good faith, and only when all parties are genuinely open to abandoning their old beliefs. Otherwise, my motto is simple: “you do you.”
This has made me draw fairly clear lines when it comes to how I approach conversations, and who I engage with. These categories help remind me when to abandon a debate in order to avoid further wasted time. The emotional cost is largely irrelevant, because, as mentioned earlier, I am very rarely concerned with what goes on inside someone else’s mind.
The following categories are what I wish someone had made me aware of when I was much younger. I hope this is of use to others who may not yet have developed strong intuitions about what counts as a red flag in a rational debate.
The Religious Thinker
Religion[2] in this context does not refer to theistic belief. It refers instead to rigidity: the unexamined origin and fixed nature of one’s views about the world. In this sense, most atheists are, as far as I am concerned, religious in their thinking, even when they clearly reject religion as worship or as an explicit ideology.
Defeating a religious thinker in a rational debate is usually easy. Their views tend not to have a clear intellectual origin, and they are almost impossible to trace back to a rational moment in which the holder of those views—through logic and free from bias—arrived at them deliberately.
The view itself may have intellectual substance—for example, the rejection of a creator of the universe—but a religious thinker cannot explain how they arrived at that belief.
This, in turn, makes it difficult for them to defend their position. To argue for a view in good faith, one must have arrived at it through rigorous thinking, by examining serious objections and developing counter-arguments strong enough to justify adopting that position.
For someone who has picked up their ideology like a penny off the street, it is impossible to know the ins and outs of their own belief. At best, they can repeat what they have heard from others—who may themselves be religious thinkers.
That being said, religious thinkers rarely debate rationally. To them, what they believe is true simply because they believe it—which often makes me wonder whether this reflects an inability to absorb new information, a lack of interest in learning and improving, or both.
If you confront them with a question that undermines their beliefs, they—at best—pause for a moment and then disagree.
If you insist, you may get a sense of what could be going on in their heads:
“This person says I am wrong. But how could that be? I have thoughts and beliefs in my mind. This person is saying they may not be true. How is that even possible?
If a thought were not true, then why would it be in my mind at all? Could I be wrong? How?
Aren’t only other people wrong—precisely because they are not me? If not, why does it always seem to be others who are wrong and never me? Isn’t that proof enough that I am not wrong, given that I have never been proven wrong before?
I must disagree with this person. They simply cannot understand why I am right, and I cannot even understand why they fail to see all the reasons and evidence that make me right—now, in the past, and in the future.”
Their best attempt at offering a rational argument is often something like this: “No more proof is needed. Can you not see how obviously my point is true? Just listen to me, because I am right.”
Religious thinkers, in this sense, are extremely lazy, in my view. They live in a delusion because it is convenient. Why learn or improve when you can simply disagree with anyone who objects? Someone questions your beliefs? Tell them they are wrong. Easy. No need to think. No need to read. No need to converse or debate.
They have mastered the art of taking shortcuts: just say no. It is a universal, infinite-convenience glitch—the least amount of effort and energy required.
In this regard, this category of non-intellectual thinkers is perhaps the most uninformed of all. Not only do they show no interest in refining their existing beliefs, but it often appears that they lack the capacity to do so, even if they wanted to.
Let us not forget that conscious thinking is an intellectual exercise that requires years of practice and cannot be acquired overnight or accepted in a single moment of supposed truth or realisation.
Unfortunately, I once belonged to this group myself. Although it is in the distant past, it still makes me uncomfortable to remember or to talk about the time when I was also a religious thinker.
The “trust me, bro” Thinker
I associate this group with a constant, almost irresistible tendency to believe anything that sounds plausible. They often adopt ideas picked up from random posts and videos online, or things overheard in public.
Sometimes their beliefs and ideas do not even seem plausible, and it would be easy to conclude that they lack intelligence. I think that judgement is unnecessarily harsh.
In my opinion, the “trust me, bro” thinkers are followers. They rarely engage in conscious, rational thought, often because they were never in an environment that forced them to reason for themselves.
Although it may take time, I believe many in this group have the potential to improve beyond recognition.
I was part of this category myself for a few years when I was younger, and I have debated people like this countless times since. Not everyone in this group is able or willing to learn and seek truth, but many are capable of doing so.
This is also where most extremist groups find their recruits. If you imagine the radicalisation pipeline as an upside-down wedding cake—wide at the top and narrowing as it goes down—recruiters begin with the largest group, which is often this category, and introduce them to ideas that initially seem harmless.
From those who accept the initial, harmless premises, some will eventually move down to a lower layer. That group is smaller by definition, but it represents a shift toward more controversial ideas. This process continues until a few adopt the radical positions of extremist leaders and, on occasion, end up in the evening news.
This is, in my view, the second largest group of non-intellectual thinkers: slightly smaller than the religious thinkers, yet significantly larger than the rest.
The “fight me, bro” Thinker
This category could be summarised in one word: trolls.
Whereas religious thinkers are focused on creating convenience for themselves, the “fight me, bro” thinkers aim to create inconvenience for others.
Unlike religious thinkers, this group does appear to have the capacity to learn. I say this because trolling itself is a learned skill, which implies at least some ability to adapt—even if that capacity is limited.
In my experience, their attention is primarily directed toward attacking others. More often than not, their entire outlook revolves around opposition taken to extremes. Moderation has no place in how they operate.
I believe this is a combination of nature and nurture: some part disposition, some part childhood and upbringing.
I call them “fight me, bro” because they remind me of someone who cannot get past a nightclub bouncer and responds by attacking verbally—ironically, in a fairly harmless way—making threats that are physically impossible to carry out.
I think this stems from a lack of technical or epistemic skill. When you challenge their thinking, question their assumptions, or appear unsatisfied with their conclusions, they rarely respond rationally. Instead, they resort to various ways of labeling you as some kind of “eternally wrong being,” without offering any proof or evidence.
Some occasionally reach for a small set of highly overused technical terms in an attempt to present themselves as sophisticated, gifted, or wise—holders of a wealth of knowledge. What they fail to see is that in a rational or technical debate, one must speak and act rationally consistently. Anything less, and you are treated as a clown, or at best, a time-waster.
One cannot behave like a clown, sprinkle in a few “fancy” words, and expect others to bow to the supposed value being added to the conversation.
Aristotle argued that some people—and even their descendants—were born to remain slaves, which he believed to be a law of nature. Thousands of years later, we still value and study his contributions, even though some of what he argued and practised was morally wrong, including by the standards of some of his contemporaries.
Yet today, someone can advocate for a philosophy centred on reducing harm and suffering and still sound incoherent, unstable, or incapable of articulating their position clearly.
This is easier to understand when looking at other aspects of how they behave. Their apparent goal is simple: to be irritating.
They find purpose in being abrasive.
They do not seem capable of causing much harm, nor of shaping or dismantling any meaningful ideas or movements. Their function appears limited to passing days one after another, arguing pointlessly with others—incoherently, disrespectfully, and solely to ruin someone else’s day or evening.
One of the easiest ways to spot them in the wild is by phrases like “that’s not me, it’s you.”
If you point out a logical error in their argument, the response is usually: “I didn’t make a logical mistake. You did—insert random personal attack.” You will never hear, “Tell me where exactly. I would like to clarify.”
Thankfully, I have never belonged to this group. I do make sarcastic comments and occasionally push back against trolls, but any prolonged engagement with them is ultimately a waste of time.
The sooner you abandon them, the better.
The Big-deal Thinker
This category is by far the smallest and the most innocent of all. Their inclusion here is not meant as an attack, but as a matter of technical accuracy, in my view.
This group consists of people who believe they have made profound realisations and are eager to share them with others. In doing so, they commit a few fallacies and errors in rational thinking, usually without ill intent.
Their views are not faulty because of arrogance, but because of ignorance. They often have not studied the field they are theorising about and therefore fall prey to the Dunning–Kruger effect.
Their claims are often sweeping and fundamental, yet they fail to provide adequate proof or evidence. They are typically unfamiliar with how theories are presented within the relevant field—whether philosophy, mathematics, logic, or science—and they have not done the necessary groundwork. As a result, they do not know whether the topic has already been explored, what objections have been raised, or where the discussion currently stands.
A defining trait of this group is that they are persuasive and evangelistic about their own ideas. They want others to adopt the same concepts and to benefit from what they see as life-changing consequences.
You can often hear them say things like, “Just listen to me. Do this and that, and it will make sense. Just do it. It’s very simple.”
What they fail to realise is that people are not uninterested because the ideas are difficult to imagine or conceptualise. This assumption prevents them from improving their methods of thinking or from refining and clarifying their underlying assumptions.
To them, it is simply a pity that others cannot see what they themselves see so clearly.
Thankfully, I have never belonged to this group. If anything, I struggle more with impostor syndrome. I am a sceptic, so speaking with certainty is difficult for me. The only time I am comfortable being certain is when describing my own observations, since articulating them clearly is beneficial—at least to myself.
The Humble, Know-it-all Thinker
Although this category can be just as irritating as the trolls—the “fight me, bro” thinkers—I believe they are far more harmful to society.
I generally associate this group with narcissism—the kind of everyday, socially tolerated arrogance that most people encounter regularly.
To them, rational debate is merely a game—one that must end with them appearing victorious. As a result, they rarely participate in discussions where competent participants might challenge them on technical grounds.
What they need is an audience of relatively uninformed participants who can be impressed by performance alone. Their go-to technique is strategic incomprehension. When you challenge their methods, reasoning, or assumptions, they simply respond with, “I don’t understand.”
This, however, is a form of performance. They behave like actors on a stage, relying on theatrics rather than substance. It works because the rest of the participants cannot confidently evaluate the argument themselves. By presenting the counterargument as incoherent, they excuse themselves from having to respond.
This is, nevertheless, purely a show. These are people who see themselves as superior to others. They are not interested in the debate itself; what they care about is being perceived as victorious.
They often laugh at objections. They appear to struggle with understanding even simple arguments, but in a way that suggests the fault lies entirely with the other person—who, in their framing, is simply too incapable to express anything coherently.
Thankfully, I have never been part of this group. I simply do not see the point. I am far more critical of myself than of others. That said, I have spent many years dealing with and working alongside people of this type.
You will often find these people in positions that appear successful on the surface. For example, someone whose recent material or professional milestone—buying a house, becoming a middle manager—has become such a defining achievement that they now see themselves as elevated above most others.
This group arguably causes the greatest harm relative to the others. They are numerous, and their actions are rarely criminal or illegal. Instead, the damage is cumulative—draining time, energy, and goodwill from those around them.
Conclusion
Arguably, the title of this essay should have been Non-Intellectual Speakers, as conscious thinking is seldom present in any of these groups.
Many will find this offensive, particularly if they recognise themselves in one of these five categories. It is unlikely that this will help them in any meaningful way, but the essay was not written with that in mind.
As mentioned at the beginning, these categories exist to help me stay alert and to disengage from conversations sooner rather than later, primarily for my own benefit. Nothing more, nothing less.