“The unexamined life is not worth living.”
— Socrates, Apology
There’s something timeless about a person who asks, “Why do you believe that?”
Not to argue. Not to shame. But to wake you up to your own illusion.
Socrates made a career out of it—so much so that he was nicknamed the gadfly of Athens. A gadfly is a small, annoying insect that bites large animals to keep them alert. Socrates saw himself as exactly that: a buzzing presence, prodding the sleepy minds of his fellow citizens to stop accepting and start examining. He didn’t write anything himself, but through Plato’s dialogues, we meet a man who challenged the status quo, asked impossible questions, and refused to trade truth for popularity.
He died for it, of course. The Athenians didn’t like being bitten. But, in my opinion, we need more biting these days.
Socratic Energy in the Scroll Era
In many ways, gadflies are everywhere now. They tweet. They post TikToks. They monologue in front of bookshelves and whiteboards. The internet is a marketplace of ideas, sure—but also a swarm of voices calling for your attention, your allegiance, your agreement.
The modern gadfly might look like an influencer, a podcast host, a Twitter threader—or even that friend who drops a one-liner that lingers in your brain for days. Some open your mind. Others lead you deeper into their personal echo chambers. Not all gadflies have wings of gold.
So how do you tell the difference?
You learn to know yourself. That’s the root of it. Socrates wasn’t trying to get people to agree with him. He wanted people to think for themselves.
That’s where the discomfort comes in.
The Buzz of Self-Examination
I like to think I’ve inherited a bit of that gadfly DNA—mostly through writing. I’ve got thousands (maybe tens of thousands) of pages scattered in notebooks, Google Docs, napkins, and Post-its. My questions spiral around themselves: Why do I believe this? Where did that idea come from? What if the opposite were true?
Sometimes that energy shows up in conversation too. Like when someone says something they’ve always believed—because it sounds good, or they heard it growing up—and I ask, “But what if that’s not true?” or “Why do you think that is?”
There’s often a pause. A flicker. You can see the mental wheels begin to turn.
It’s not about being right. It’s about making space. That little flash of uncertainty is the sound of something unexamined beginning to breathe.
Why the Gadfly Still Matters
In a world obsessed with productivity, comfort, and curated identities, self-examination feels… inconvenient. It’s so much easier to outsource your beliefs. To scroll your way into a worldview. To follow someone charismatic who speaks in bold certainties.
But the gadfly doesn’t sell certainty. It sells reflection. And it won’t stop buzzing until you start asking questions—about your culture, your opinions, your assumptions, and especially your own mind.
Because until you know yourself deeply and fully, you’re missing so much of the experience.
The Reminder:
Notice the gadflies.
Even the ones trying to lead you into their personal gadfly kingdom of eternal bliss.
And if one stings you a little today, consider it a gift.
It means there’s something worth waking up for.
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