
Whatever it is—your thinking, that is—just know this: according to some, it might be the source of most (if not all) of your problems.
That’s the gist of a book I just picked up. I was at Barnes & Noble to grab a copy of Orwell’s 1984 (a story for another post!) when a small stack of books caught my eye at the checkout counter. Sitting on top was a tidy little hardback with an irresistible title: “Don’t Believe Everything You Think.”
Cute. Creative. Clickbait for the analog world.
It piqued my curiosity. Plus, the book had that satisfying heft in the hand and, thanks to some B&N credits, it was basically free.
Why the curiosity? I’ve long wrestled with my own thinking. I think a lot. Too much, I think. Sometimes it serves me well. Other times, it takes me down mental rabbit holes with no cheese at the end.
See? There I go again—thinking about my thinking.
So I figured: maybe this Nguyen fellow might provide some valuable insight.
Setting the Stage
But before diving into the book’s ideas, let me offer three quick caveats—wisdom gleaned from four decades in politics, marketing, communications, and the occasional stint as a high school English teacher. As for the latter, when analyzing a piece of non-fiction, I typically advise my students to do three things.
First, look up the author. Mr. Nguyen has a well-polished online presence: website, blog, Instagram, YouTube. But here’s the catch—no bio. No credentials. No clear academic or professional background. It’s all sizzle, very little steak.
Second, when it comes to nonfiction, follow the sources. In this case, there aren’t many. Vague personal anecdotes, sure. But no studies, no citations, no bibliography. It’s kind of like eating soup with a fork—you’re not sure you’re getting the full nourishment.
Third, consider the style. Nguyen writes in a self-help, motivational speaker kind of tone. Lots of “You can do it!” and “Here’s the secret I discovered!” Think Tony Robbins meets the latest “lose weight now!” commercial.
The Big Claim
Nguyen’s core message is clear: “The root cause of our suffering is our own thinking.” (pg. 21)
OK. I get it. As someone who struggles with overthinking, I can relate.
Yes, anxiety is rampant. A 2024 poll from the American Psychiatric Association found that 43% of U.S. adults feel more anxious than last year. That’s up from 37% in 2023 and 32% in 2022.
Why the uptick? Some blame the economy. Others point to climate change. Or political polarization. Or gun violence. Jonathan Haidt, in The Anxious Generation, puts the blame squarely on technology.
But Nguyen? He says it’s just our thinking. There’s a good case to be made. Most of us experience over-thinking – aka “rumination” – at some point in our life. According to one study “nearly 73% of 25 to 35-year-olds and 52% of 45 to 55-year-olds experienced overthinking in their day-to-day lives.” According to this and other studies, this “rumination” tends to decrease with age. I must be the exception to the rule.
So Nguyen is on to something. But it’s the diagnosis—and more importantly, the prescription—that gets my brow to furrow.
First, Nguyen draws a sharp line between “thoughts” and “thinking.” Thoughts, he says, are neutral. Thinking is what gets us in trouble. Interesting… but also a little like separating “fire” from “burning.”
Further, he claims that thoughts come from “the universe or our higher selves,” while thinking comes from “our egos” (pg. 78) Really?
Consider these “thoughts”:
– White people are the superior race.
– People I disagree with are assholes.
– Let’s get drunk.
– Money is the most important thing in life.
Is that our higher self? I don’t think so (there I go again!) In his book, Nguyen’s thinking (dog gone it! I did it again!) is akin to Rousseau—humans are born pure and corrupted by the world. But Hobbes might have the stronger case: that in our natural state, humans are solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
Me? I think the truth is probably somewhere in between.
Second, Nguyen suggests that thinking prompts us to think in terms of “black and white” – “good and bad.” He suggests that there’s no such thing as “good” or “bad.” He quotes Shakespeare’s Hamlet that: “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Yes, many philosophers (and therapists) urge us to reserve judgment, especially in the moment. What seems “bad” today—a lost job, a breakup—may turn out to be the beginning of something better. But denying good and bad altogether? That’s not just philosophical fastidiousness—it’s potentially dangerous. It risks numbing us to injustice and inaction. As Dr. King reminded us, we must respond to “the fierce urgency of now.”
Third, Nguyen claims it’s not what we think—it’s the mere act of thinking that causes suffering.
(Wait… is Nguyen asking us to think about that?)
I don’t know about you, but some of my biggest regrets came from not thinking. And some of the world’s greatest advances —personally and societally—have come from people daring to think in new and challenging ways.
Sure, overthinking can lead to what psychologists call “ANTs”—automatic negative thoughts. It can be paralyzing. But the antidote to bad thinking isn’t no thinking. It’s better thinking.
So… Think Again?
Philosophers from Aristotle to William James to Viktor Frankl have praised the power of thoughtful reflection. And science agrees—positive thinking improves mental and physical health.
Which brings to mind the words of St. Paul:
“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest,
whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be
any praise, think on these things.” (Philippians 4:8)
Thinking isn’t the enemy. It’s a tool. And like any tool, it can be misused—or wielded with wisdom.
So yeah. Don’t believe everything you think.
But don’t stop thinking either.
Think about that.