Small World, Small Mind

Let’s talk about something we all think we’re immune to but probably aren’t: being a little too confident in our own worldview. Being “set in our ways.” Dismissive of other people’s ideas. The kind of mental posture that folds its arms and says, “No thanks, I already know everything worth knowing.” In other words: narrowmindedness.

Now, I know that’s a loaded word. Nobody wants to be labeled narrowminded. It’s right up there with “selfish” and “uses speakerphone in public” in the pantheon of social sins. But the truth is, narrowmindedness isn’t just a character flaw—it’s often a symptom. And the underlying cause? Narrow life experiences.

If you’ve lived in a small pond your whole life, it’s pretty easy to believe it’s the whole ocean.

Let’s dig into why that is.

The Comfort of the Familiar

People love the familiar. It’s warm. It’s safe. It doesn’t make us feel stupid. And we like feeling smart and in control. So, we organize our lives around things that validate what we already believe.

We eat the same foods. We watch the same news channels. We surround ourselves with people who vote like we vote and pray like we pray and laugh at the same memes. We pick neighborhoods, churches, gyms, and even grocery stores that feel “comfortable,” which often means “homogenous.”

We don’t do this because we’re villains. We do it because our brains are lazy. Or more charitably, efficient. Neuroscience tells us our minds rely on shortcuts—heuristics—to avoid the exhausting work of constantly reevaluating everything. And one of the most seductive shortcuts is: “What I’ve always known must be what’s right.”

The problem, of course, is that this kind of mental auto-pilot builds a psychological cul-de-sac. And over time, we mistake our little circle for the entire map.

The Link Between Exposure and Openness

There’s an entire body of psychological research that backs this up. People who’ve had broader, more diverse life experiences tend to score higher on what psychologists call “Openness to Experience”—a trait associated with curiosity, imagination, empathy, and flexibility in thinking.

It’s not just abstract personality theory either. Studies show:

People who travel—especially to culturally dissimilar countries—tend to be more creative and tolerant.

People who regularly engage in conversations with those outside their usual group have less racial and ideological prejudice.

People who read literary fiction (not beach thrillers or dystopian YA trilogies) show increased theory of mind—the ability to understand others’ thoughts and feelings.

That’s not magic. It’s exposure. When you encounter people who live differently, believe differently, struggle differently—you start to realize your way of seeing the world is just a way, not the way.

It doesn’t mean you lose your values or become a moral chameleon. It just means you gain the ability to say, “Huh. That’s not how I was raised. But maybe there’s more to this story.”

That little sentence? That’s the opposite of narrowmindedness. That’s the fertile soil where growth happens.

Narrow Experiences Build Strong Walls

On the flip side, if someone’s never had their worldview challenged in any meaningful way, their beliefs tend to calcify into something more rigid and defensive.

They might cling to black-and-white thinking because nuance feels slippery.
They might get angry when other people speak up because it threatens the comfort of consensus.
They might see difference not as interesting, but as dangerous.

In short, they become allergic to complexity.

And here’s where it gets tricky: narrowmindedness isn’t always loud and proud. It’s not always some guy yelling about “kids these days” or blaming immigrants for everything. Sometimes it’s more subtle.

It’s the person who says, “I just don’t get it,” but never tries to.
It’s the coworker who changes the subject when someone brings up systemic injustice.
It’s the friend who insists, “We don’t talk politics here,” because they’ve only ever felt safe in silence.

They’re not necessarily bad people. But they’ve lived in a narrow hallway so long they think it’s the whole house.

Fear Plays a Big Role

Let’s name something that lives beneath a lot of this: fear.

Not all narrowmindedness is about arrogance. A lot of it is about anxiety. When your world has been small and predictable, anything new feels like a threat.

New ideas require emotional effort.
They force us to admit we might have been wrong—or at least incomplete.
They ask us to listen instead of lecture.

And that can feel dangerous when your identity has been built on certainty.

So instead of growing, people defend. They mock. They minimize. They retreat into familiar talking points or slap on a joke or say “that’s just how I was raised,” which is often code for “don’t make me think too hard about this.”

But here’s the thing: if your values are as solid as you think they are, they should be able to survive a conversation.

Not All Experience is Equal

Let’s pause for a quick disclaimer: not all experiences expand the mind.

You can live in five countries, try ayahuasca in the jungle, and still be a jerk. You can go through hard times and come out more bitter than wise. You can meet people of every race and still be a closet bigot.

Exposure doesn’t guarantee empathy. Reflection does.

It’s not just what you experience. It’s how you metabolize it.

Did you ask questions? Did you listen? Did you let it change your map of the world? Or did you just stamp “invalid” on anything that didn’t feel familiar?

The people I’ve met who are the most open-minded aren’t always the most “worldly” by conventional standards. They’re just the ones who got curious when life surprised them. They traded certainty for wonder. They didn’t assume they were the main character in every story.

And that, more than anything, is what broadens the mind.

How This Shows Up in Everyday Life

So what does this all look like practically? Here are a few examples from the real world:

In the workplace: A manager dismisses a younger employee’s suggestion because “that’s not how we’ve ever done it.” Translation: “I haven’t had enough experience with change to be open to it.”

In families: A teenager comes out as queer and their parent immediately responds with Bible verses instead of curiosity. That reaction often comes from never having known someone who was LGBTQ+ personally—or never allowing themselves to.

In communities: A town votes down a homeless shelter because people say, “We don’t have those kinds of problems here.” They probably do. They just haven’t looked closely enough to see it—or they’ve worked hard not to.

On social media: Someone reads a post about systemic racism and responds with “All Lives Matter.” That’s not always malice. Sometimes it’s someone whose experiences have never required them to see the world through another lens.

So What Do We Do About It?

If narrow experiences can create narrowmindedness, then the remedy is obvious: go get some new experiences.

This doesn’t mean booking a flight to Nepal tomorrow (though if that’s on your bucket list, go for it). It means deliberately choosing discomfort in your daily life.

Here’s what that might look like:

Seek out diverse voices. Read books by authors who don’t look like you, love like you, or vote like you. Watch documentaries that challenge your assumptions. Listen to podcasts hosted by people from different life paths.

Have the hard conversations. The next time someone shares a perspective that feels foreign, don’t shut down or change the subject. Ask questions. Not as a trap, but with real curiosity.

Travel with intention. Don’t just stick to the tourist zones. Talk to locals. Learn a few words in the language. Sit in a place where you’re the minority and observe what that brings up in you.

Reflect often. After a tough conversation or a new experience, ask yourself: What did I assume going in? What surprised me? What might I need to reconsider?

Mentor or be mentored. One of the best ways to stretch your worldview is to spend time with someone from another generation. Young people are full of fresh insight. Older folks are walking history books. Trade stories. Learn from each other.

Interrupt yourself. When you catch yourself dismissing someone’s idea, pause and ask: Is this about the idea—or my discomfort?

Final Thoughts: Humility Over Certainty

At the end of the day, narrowmindedness isn’t just about what we believe. It’s about how tightly we hold those beliefs.

It’s okay to have convictions. In fact, we need them. But when your convictions become a fortress that no new idea can penetrate, you haven’t built strength—you’ve built a prison.

One of the marks of maturity is being able to say, “I used to think differently, but I’ve learned something new.”

That takes courage. And humility. And maybe a little therapy, if we’re honest.

So, if you’ve been living in a small world, no shame. We all start somewhere. Just don’t stay there. The world is bigger, messier, more beautiful than we were told. And the more of it we’re willing to experience, the more room we make—for growth, for empathy, and for each other.