We live in an age of informational omniscience. With a small glass rectangle in our pocket, we can summon the answer to nearly any factual question in a matter of seconds. Who won the Oscar for Best Picture in 1978? What is the capital of Mongolia? How does photosynthesis work? The answers are always there, waiting for us. But I’d like to propose a counterintuitive, perhaps even heretical, idea: in a world so completely saturated with information, the ability to not know—to simply surrender to a moment of pure, elegant mystery—has become a rare and profound luxury.

This is a philosophical defense of wonder in an age that seems determined to eradicate it.

The Disenchantment of the World

Having instant access to information is, of course, a powerful and wonderful thing. But our constant, reflexive need to explain, categorize, deconstruct, and “Google” everything has a subtle, corrosive side effect. It can strip the world of its natural enchantment.

Imagine you are watching a truly breathtaking sunset, a sky painted with impossible colors. The primary, emotional experience is one of awe. But then, a friend pulls out their phone to look up the exact atmospheric particulate data that is causing the specific wavelengths of light to scatter in that way. The explanation, while scientifically interesting, can have the unfortunate effect of diminishing the original, poetic experience. My work aims to provide a temporary antidote to this modern disenchantment. It is a “nature preserve” for wonder, a space where the “why” is allowed to be more important than the “how.”

The Futility of the “How?”

For a sophisticated adult audience, the question “How did he do that?” is, frankly, a bit of a boring and superficial puzzle. It is an intellectual exercise, a game of trying to reverse-engineer a secret. The far more interesting, and far more human, question is, “How did that make me feel?”

A performance of elegant impossibility should be structured to be so clean, so direct, and so resonant that the “how” becomes a much less interesting path of inquiry than the “why.” The experience is designed to gently guide the audience away from the sterile puzzle and toward the rich, emotional experience. The goal is to create a moment so profound that the audience willingly suspends its need for a rational explanation and simply allows itself to enjoy the luxury of not knowing.

Wonder is a Muscle

The ability to experience wonder is not a passive trait; it is an active skill. It is like a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger and more accessible it becomes. But if you neglect it, it will atrophy.

A performance of psychological illusion can act as a “workout” for your sense of wonder. It reminds you of what it feels like to be confronted with something beautiful, inexplicable, and deeply human. It encourages you to seek out that feeling in other parts of your life, to be more present, and to be more open to the small, everyday mysteries that surround us all. The ultimate goal of the performance is not just to create a fleeting moment of wonder, but to rekindle the audience’s innate capacity for it, leaving them with something of real and lasting value.

In an age of instant answers, mystery is a rare gift. I invite you to embrace it. Find a small moment this week to experience a mystery. Don’t look up the answer. Just enjoy the question.

Internal Links: The Role of the Skeptic in an Age of Belief, The Allure of the Uncanny: When Things Are Almost Normal

External Link: An article from The School of Life on the importance of embracing mystery