How do you transmit critical thinking without “teaching”? How do you ignite that spark that evolves ideas in others? This is the question that has accompanied me since I began developing awareness of my reticular thinking.
The rhizome, a concept dear to me, doesn’t arise from imposition. It arises from dialogue. From co-creation. And the method that most embodies this philosophy is the Socratic one: not providing answers, but asking questions that guide the other to find their own.
Socrates as the Foundation of Everything
I love philosophy. I study philosophy ranging from Plato and Aristotle to Kant and Wittgenstein, without forgetting Al-Farabi and Ibn Arabi. I’m fascinated by how Poincaré connects mathematics and thought. But the heart, the foundation of everything else, remains Socrates. Why? Because the Socratic method isn’t just theory: it’s daily practice. It’s a tool that grafts itself into real life.
Maieutics, the art of “giving birth” to ideas in the other through questions, is powerful. You don’t say “the solution is this.” You ask “what do you think would happen if…?” or “why do you believe it’s like this?” or even “what if we tried looking at it from this angle?”.
The result? The other arrives at the conclusion themselves. And when you arrive at a conclusion yourself, that idea becomes yours. It takes root. It grows. It expands. It becomes part of your personal rhizome.
Daily Life as Fertile Ground
Where do I apply this method? Everywhere. But the most powerful moments are the apparently mundane ones.
The conversations while taking my children to school. Those few hundred meters walking together. A child tells me “I don’t want to go to school today.” I could respond “You have to go, it’s important.” Instead I ask “Why don’t you want to go today? Did something happen yesterday?”. And from there a dialogue is born. We co-create together the understanding of the problem. Sometimes it emerges that school isn’t the problem, it’s something else. Other times they discover on their own why going makes sense.
Conversations with friends over coffee. Someone tells me about a complex work problem. The temptation is to give the solution: “You should do this.” But if instead I ask “What are the variables at play? What would happen if you changed this element?”, the other begins to see the system. They begin to reason reticulary. And the solution emerges on its own.
Even in the blog, after all, I use this approach. I don’t write “you must do this.” I share my journey, pose implicit questions, invite abstraction. Those who read with the right disposition find their own answers, not mine imposed.
The Difficulty of Context
I need to be honest: this approach isn’t always easy. Especially in the Italian context.
The culture here tends to value the expert who provides quick solutions. The guru. The authority who says “do this and it works.” Complexity is seen as a waste of time. Socratic dialogue, which requires patience and willingness to explore, is sometimes perceived as evasive.
“But what would you do?” they ask me. And when I respond with another question, I see frustration. They want the ready answer, not the path to find it.
This isn’t sterile criticism. It’s observation of a cultural pattern that limits the growth of critical thinking. We prefer quick certainty to deep understanding. “Doing regardless” instead of the systemic approach.
But I resist. Because I know that those who are truly interested in growing, who seek substance instead of easy solutions, recognize the value of this method.
When You See the Spark Ignite
The most beautiful moments are those when you see the spark ignite.
That pause in the dialogue. That moment of silence where you perceive the other is processing. Then the “Ah, wait…” followed by reasoning that takes form on its own. That is the rhizome being born. That is successful transmission.
It’s not that I taught something. I simply created the space for the other to find it themselves. I asked the right questions. I listened in silence. I let the thought develop without interrupting.
And this works everywhere: with children, with friends, in conversations in front of school, in deeper dialogues. The method is the same. Questions instead of answers. Listening instead of imposition. Co-creation instead of unidirectional transmission.
The Rhizome That Expands
The beautiful thing about the Socratic method is that it naturally generates rhizome. Why? Because whoever arrives at a conclusion on their own doesn’t stop there. They carry it forward. They apply it. They share it with others. And the rhizome expands.
Someone with whom I’ve dialogued then applies the same method with others. A network of critical thinking is born. Not because I “taught,” but because I triggered a process.
This is what I hope happens with the blog too. Not that you read and say “Luca is right.” But that you read, abstract, find your own connections, and carry forward your own rhizome. And if you want to dialogue, let’s reason through it together. Because the most powerful rhizome is born in direct relationship, in real conversation, in face-to-face dialogue.
The Invitation to Co-Creation
If you recognize this approach in yourselves, if you use questions instead of answers, if you see complexity as opportunity instead of obstacle, then we’re on the same wavelength.
I don’t build the rhizome alone. It’s built together. Through dialogue. Through willingness to explore instead of assert. Through the courage to say “I don’t know, let’s reason through it together” instead of “the solution is this.”
Socrates said “I know that I know nothing.” It wasn’t false modesty. It was awareness that true knowledge is born from dialogue, not from imposition.
And in daily life, between a walk to school and a coffee with a friend, this method makes the difference. Small questions. Great evolutions.