In education, business, tech, or science, the moment you hear the phrase "Because I said so" or "That's just the way it is," you know something has gone wrong. These aren't explanations. They're escape hatches. They shut down curiosity and create an environment where asking questions becomes a threat instead of a path to understanding.

In the business world, we sometimes inherit policies or procedures that no one can explain. "Why do we do it this way?" "Because that's how we've always done it." It's the organizational version of scripture. The rule exists, and its origin is lost to time, but questioning it is taboo. And when someone does try to ask, the response is often frustration, suspicion, or silence.

In classrooms, the same thing happens. Students ask why something works the way it does, and instead of a real answer, they get an appeal to the textbook, the test, or the teacher's authority. It's not always the teacher's fault, either. Sometimes they genuinely don't know, or they're pressured to stick to the curriculum. But the message is the same: Stop asking. Obey. Memorize. Don't think. (1)

This kind of environment doesn't produce thinkers. It produces followers. It teaches people to value certainty over curiosity, repetition over discovery.

I was once brought in as a consultant to help clean up an Access database that had grown into a bit of a monster. As I was reviewing the code with their in-house IT guy, I asked him, "Why are you doing it this way?" He shrugged and said, "I don't know. The guy before me wrote it this way, and it's always worked, so I've just always done it that way." No one had questioned it, let alone tried to improve it. That was just the way things were done. But once I rewrote the routine properly, it ran faster, cleaner, and was actually maintainable. Funny how much better things work when you're allowed to question the way they've always been.

I once walked into a company that had been using the same old Access form for over a decade. It was clunky, it was ugly, and it didn't even collect half the data they actually needed. When I asked why it hadn't been updated, the answer was, "That's the form we've always used." It turned out no one liked it, no one found it useful, and no one had ever thought to change it. It was tradition by default. And tradition, without reflection, is just inertia dressed up as wisdom. That's how Bob built it, and Bob was a legend. (2)

And of course, this mindset shows up in many philosophies and worldviews. Some belief systems are built on the idea that authority itself is the foundation of truth. If a sacred text or respected figure says something is so, then it must be so - not necessarily because it's been tested or confirmed, but because the source is considered unquestionable. In those environments, asking "why" can be seen not as a search for understanding, but as a lack of trust. Sometimes, the question itself is treated as the problem.

But science doesn't work that way. Science says, "Ask." Science says, "Challenge." It says, "Prove it again. And again. And again." Even when something is widely accepted, it's always subject to review, replication, and revision. Science doesn't fear questions. It feeds on them.

In the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode Symbiosis, the Enterprise crew encounters two civilizations locked in a toxic dependency. The Ornarans believe they're suffering from a plague, and the Brekkians provide the only known cure - a drug called felicium. But the "plague" was cured generations ago. What the Ornarans are really experiencing is drug withdrawal, and the Brekkians are exploiting that addiction for profit. The tragedy is that no one questions it. The system has existed for so long that both societies just accept it as normal. It's a perfect example of what happens when people stop asking "why" and start relying on tradition and authority to justify the status quo. Picard can't interfere directly, but he finds a way to force the Ornarans to confront the truth - because doing things a certain way just because "it's always been done that way" is rarely a path to progress. (5)

If you find yourself in a workplace, classroom, or any other situation where asking questions is treated as disloyalty or defiance, it's worth pausing to reflect. Environments that discourage inquiry aren't usually designed to pursue truth - they're often structured to preserve order, tradition, or authority. And while that might keep things running smoothly on the surface, it can come at the cost of growth, understanding, and genuine progress. (3)

The best leaders, the best teachers, and the best thinkers welcome questions. They know that an answer worth having is an answer that can stand up to scrutiny.

So the next time someone tells you, "Because I said so," maybe it's time to say, "That's not good enough." (4)

Ask. Challenge. Prove.

LLAP
RR

(1) I'll admit, I'm guilty of this myself sometimes. In a few of my videos, I'll say something like "just trust me and do it this way for now" with a promise that we'll dig into the why later. And there's a reason for that. When you're teaching beginners, they don't always have the foundation yet to understand the advanced reasons behind certain best practices. Take something simple, like not using spaces in your table or field names. That might sound like nitpicking to a new user. But once you get into VBA programming, you'll quickly learn what a hassle it becomes having to bracket everything. It's not about being pedantic, it's about setting yourself up for fewer headaches down the road. But if I tried to explain all the ins and outs of VBA quoting rules in an Intro to Tables video, I'd lose half the class. So yes, sometimes a teacher will say "we'll cover that later." But that doesn't mean you're wrong to ask. You should ask. Post a comment, raise your hand, get curious. Just understand that sometimes the answer has to wait until the foundation is built. That's not evasion. That's pacing. Education is about timing as much as content. And we'll get there together. But you'll never hear me say that it's wrong to ask the question. I love when people ask me questions - and I love when I don't know the answer to something because then I'll have to figure it out - which usually leads to another video! :)

(2) I kid you not, when I worked with this company off and on for a couple of years, I kept hearing about this almost-mythical figure named Bob. "It's like Bob built it." "That's how Bob did it." "If it was good enough for Bob, it's good enough for us." Bob had been their in-house IT guy for something like 30 years, and everyone loved him. He had a presence about him - acted like he knew everything about everything. And honestly, he probably did know quite a bit. I think he started out as a COBOL programmer back in the 50s or 60s. He ran their whole network and handled everything tech-related. But man, when I finally looked at the database he left behind... yikes. It was duct tape and prayers. Nothing was normalized, no relational structure, no error handling. I had to gently explain, "Look, I'm sure Bob was a great guy, and he kept things running for a long time, but this isn't good design." Bob had passed away a few years before I came in, and they hired a junior IT guy who was totally in over his head. Meanwhile, I felt like I was walking into a shrine. Everyone was still worshiping at the altar of Bob.

(3) The military is one of the few legitimate exceptions to all this. When you enlist, you're knowingly entering into a system where you agree to follow orders - immediately and without question. That structure is designed for discipline, coordination, and survival, especially in combat situations where hesitation can be deadly. But even there, blind obedience has limits. If you're given an order that is clearly unlawful or unethical - like firing on civilians - you not only have the right to disobey, you have a legal and moral obligation to do so. "Just following orders" isn't a valid excuse when it comes to violating human rights. So even in the most rigidly hierarchical environments, critical thinking and moral responsibility still matter.

(4) Unless it's me. Then obviously I'm right and you should just do it. Kidding... mostly.

(5) This episode also shows just how brilliantly Next Generation was written. Picard realizes the Brekkians know exactly what they're doing - they're fully aware they're exploiting the Ornarans' addiction. And while he can't directly tell the Ornarans the truth without violating the Prime Directive, he finds a loophole. He refuses to supply the Brekkians with the parts they need to fix their freighters, which means they can't continue the drug shipments. That too would be interference. So in a masterful move, Picard honors the letter of the Prime Directive while nudging events in a direction that forces both civilizations to confront the truth. It's subtle, principled, and brilliant writing all around. And yes, the footnotes are numbered out of order. I wrote this last, and I don't feel like renumbering. So bug off.