Frames of Thought – The unknowability of what you don’t want to know

The tragedy of compliant, rule-following marionettes

Frames of Thought: Fifteen

The Frames of Thought series of essays offers a scene-by-scene glimpse into my thoughts, motivations, hopes, backstories, struggles, and anything else that comes to mind as I create this animation.

Script Extract

Identity, free will, emotions, the meaning and purpose of life—these are no longer just shadows on the wall. We’re finally seeing them for what they really are, without the prehistoric mental filters evolution slapped on us to stop us from walking off a cliff. For the first time, we can approach them with clarity, precision, and intention.

The Scene:

In this scene of the animation, at first, all you see are shadows drifting across the cave wall. Shapes edge towards the centre—blurred, uncertain—the mind straining to discern what they might be, what they signify. There’s no detail, only silhouettes emerging from the cold light into the path of a warmer glow.

Then the camera pulls back, signalling a moment of insight—that electric ‘aha’ when you suddenly grasp something you hadn’t seen before. The shot widens to reveal a gathering of abstract figures casting these shadows. They stand for different states or functions within the mind. From left to right, they are: hope, consciousness, memory, reason, attention, and emotions.

Of course, there are plenty more of these peculiar figures skulking in the cave’s recesses. Still, the overriding impression is unmistakable: we started out clueless, gaping at shadows like idiots, and suddenly they were revealed to have far more richness and substance than we could have imagined.

That, in essence, is how we experience our own minds: shadows flickering on a cave wall, awaiting the moment when we adjust our framework of understanding and allow them to disclose their true nature.

What Inspired This?

This clip from the animation is based on Plato’s allegory of the cave.

Plato’s allegory of the cave goes something like this: Imagine a bunch of people shackled in a dark cave since birth, forced to stare at a wall. All they ever see are shadows cast by puppets and flickering firelight behind them. Naturally, they assume these shadows are reality—because when you’ve never seen anything else, a cheap puppet show is as good as it gets.

Then, one poor sod gets unchained and dragged—kicking, screaming—out into the blinding sunlight. At first, it’s agony. But slowly, painfully, he realises that everything he thought was real was just a second-rate projection. The true world is out here, vivid and alive, and so much more than he could ever have imagined.

When he scurries back into the cave to enlighten the others, they think he’s mad. Worse, they’d rather kill him than have their familiar illusions disturbed.

And that, Plato says, is humanity in a nutshell: we’re chained to our familiar shadows, terrified of the light, and suspicious of anyone who dares to see things as they really are.

Ice Cubes Don’t Know What It’s Like to Be a Puddle

For some time now, I’ve noticed that people appear to struggle with grasping novel ideas that contradict the ones they hold as meaningful truths. They instinctively dismiss the new idea as absurd or dangerous without genuinely considering its merits. Or they reinterpret the unfamiliar concept to fit within the framework of what they already believe, even if this distorts its original meaning. Mostly, they simply don’t want to think about it.

For example, a devout believer convinced that their faith is the sole path to truth can struggle to understand how a person of no religious faith experiences a sense of the sacred, moral clarity, or existential purpose without the same metaphysical assumptions. Or for people who see romantic partnership as the ultimate fulfilment, it’s nearly incomprehensible that some individuals not only thrive in solitude but find solitary pursuits more profound and sustaining. I sometimes struggle with this as well: for someone who feels compelled to ponder life’s ultimate purpose—who wrestles with metaphysics and feels compelled to find answers—I often find it difficult to grasp how another person can live contentedly without ever wondering why we are here.

I’ve been searching for a suitable metaphor to illustrate this concept. One that popped into my head while I was writing an essay on consciousness is this (I’ve adapted it for this essay): imagine an ice cube and a puddle of water, each occupying a room. They can only talk to each other. The puddle has been trying to explain to the ice cube what it’s like to be a puddle—how it can flow around, splash about, and form into droplets. The ice cube has no conception of what the puddle is talking about. It cannot begin to imagine how flowing around could possibly be desirable. Surely, obviously, without question, a solid cube is the ultimate form of existence because of the stability it offers. The sense of freedom, the ability for creative expression, and the sheer joy of movement are beyond the ice cube’s framework of understanding.

The Problem with Ice Cubes

The problem for the ice cube is that it can only know what it’s like to be a puddle by becoming a puddle. And by becoming a puddle, it loses its identity as an ice cube. That, to the ice cube, is a frightening prospect, because what if it doesn’t like being a puddle and it can’t return to being an ice cube? Not only that, once it has transitioned into a puddle, even if it refreezes, it will never be the same. The puddleness would have changed it forever. So, for the ice cube to understand the puddle is a significant risk. It needs to know what it's like to be a puddle before becoming one, but that’s impossible. Therefore, it remains ignorant and continues to vigorously defend its current state.

We are like ice cubes, and the truth about our minds is like a puddle. Or if we return to Plato’s cave, our understanding of ourselves is like the shadows on a cave wall, while the truth is so much more than we could ever imagine. And yet, most people simply don’t want to think about life’s more profound questions. They are content to be the ice cube, to be satisfied with the shadows, to be given a book of shadows and follow its decrees.

It is not difficult to see why. Our education system shows no interest whatsoever in genuinely and effectively nurturing young people’s curiosity about the profound questions that define our humanity and our place in the cosmos. Instead of equipping them with the critical thinking skills to explore metaphysics, meaning, and purpose, it reduces learning to the mechanical transference of facts—what we already know—so pupils can regurgitate it on demand and collect a grade. Everything centres around measurable outcomes, standardised testing, and preparation for employment. It should be about preparation for a life worth living in a universe without boundaries. Instead, it’s a factory model designed to churn out compliant, rule-following marionettes, not vibrant, questioning individuals with the skills to navigate the unknown. And there’s little hope of change anytime soon, because it’s mostly compliant, rule-following marionettes assembling the compliant, rule-following marionettes of the future.

Melting The Ice Cubes

The good news, which is actually bad news, is that the system is falling apart. Mental well-being is spiralling out of control. According to the AXA Mind Health Report, about 32% of people currently experience mental disorders, with 44% of young adults reporting mental health issues. A startling 85% of UK workers report burnout or exhaustion, with nearly half taking time off for mental health-related reasons, most prevalent among those aged 18–34. Stress, anxiety, depression, self-harm, and burnout are all increasing.

This is not particularly surprising, given a healthcare system dominated by compliant, rule-following marionettes suffering from significant conceptual gaps. You cannot fix what you don’t understand, and you can’t understand what you’re not equipped to explore. Because psychology doesn’t fully understand what the mind is—encompassing consciousness, the nature of intelligence, agency, understanding, free will, and more—mental healthcare often relies on pragmatic symptom management rather than comprehensive solutions.

In short, the crisis is worsened by an industry built on incomplete science, unable to address the profound questions of what it means to be human in a disorienting world.

If psychology cannot define the mind, it cannot heal it.

And so …

The positive aspect of this bad news is that severe stress on a system that’s clearly not working prompts people to start asking questions and explore alternatives. The bad news is that bureaucratic marionettes are in charge, and they abhor change because they are the ultimate ice cube. The good news is that our technology has decentralised access to information, so people can start helping themselves. The bad news is it’s often difficult for a compliant, rule-following marionette to change their ice cube mentality to the curious, creative, exploratory framework of the puddle. Mostly, they would rather just cope by getting a dopamine rush from scrolling through social media junk. Anything but think.

The good news is there’s always hope. Humans are good at finding solutions. Those who do explore need to find answers that those who don’t can adopt, so we can all move beyond mere existence.

Thank you.