How to Think More Critically
Because good stuff is pretty rare, actually.
Humans, incredible machines that we may be, are not built to consume the hordes of content we’re fed every day. It comes at such a breakneck pace that there’s little time to react or consider things. A double tap and it’s onto the next thing. It’s perfunctory and ultimately leads to a lot of okay content being branded as good.
But, there is a lot of crap out there. We both know it. I’ve seen intensely mediocre things be heralded as the future of this or that by people who should know better. It’s left me genuinely dumbfounded more than once. Excellence is exceedingly rare. It takes expertise, work, human investment, capital and genuine creativity. When true brilliance is encountered you know it, you can feel it. It deserves to be celebrated.
But when we crown everything as good — then nothing is. And a person’s good opinion is more valuable than that. Removing yourself from that endless cycle of “likes” and “love this” (the worst) is easier said than done. I admit I’ve often found myself in the routine of doling out meaningless praise but I want to think more sharply in the future. So I consulted some experts: Amy Odell of Back Row, Rachel Seville Tashjian of Opulent Tips fame, and Max Berlinger from Add 2 Cart.
I started by simply asking how these three look at things in a more thoughtful way. How can we look at something and know if it’s more (or less) than meets the eye? “As a critic, part of your job is to identify the consensus opinion and interrogate it,” Tashjian says. She is quick to clarify that this doesn’t mean disagree, but to “understand why that’s the broadly accepted reaction and explain it, or in some cases, challenge it.”
When we encounter something, it’s on us to evaluate it and its context. Tashjian, who specializes in fashion criticism, rattled off a list of questions she thinks about: “Who made this? Does it look sloppy? Does it look perfect? Too perfect? Have they said anything about it that might inform my understanding? What other things is this associated with, or what does it remind me of?” She goes on to say that thoughts we’re “usually taught to stuff down — well I must not get it or, this just feels boring to me — are actually the beginning (the beginning, mind you!) of a process that leads to greater understanding.”
Tashjian’s advice implies that we look at things in a multidimensional way. That bigger kind of thinking and faceted consideration is something we’ve all lost in the deluge. With endless amounts to consume there’s also so little time to actually sit with something. And it becomes all too easy to sing praises just because we hear a chorus. Over email, Odell acknowledged this struggle and said that it’s “hard to form objective opinions these days, I think, when we are constantly drowning in reactions and opinions online (which may, of course, be influenced by corporate money).”
Berlinger suggests considering things amid the broader landscape, “Knowing what is happening in art, film, literature, helps orient you to what an object may be saying more broadly.” Wider context and consumption allow us to consider things more carefully and more points of reference. Seeing the bigger picture to make sense of the smaller one, you might say.
Now, most of us aren’t professional critics, so you may wonder why even bother with the rigmarole? Well, as mentioned, your good opinion is valuable and needs to be earned. I’m not advocating that people should just start saying things are bad, just that we reserve our praise for when it’s warranted. The truly exceptional is easily recognized on its own and among other work. That’s what we should put on a pedestal.
We should all keep the advice from these three top of mind as we burn our eyes on screens. My gut tells me these practices will make us love great work even more. And in turn, push ourselves harder in our own creative practices.
Hard as it may be, good criticism makes for better work.



