THE FEYNMAN GAME:
A FUNNY INSTRUCTION MANUAL FOR KEEPING YOUR BRAIN HONEST
Welcome to The Game.
The goal is simple:
Find something you believe, and try to prove yourself wrong.
Not because you hate yourself.
Because you like thinking.
This is not about doubting everything all the time. That way lies madness and yelling at houseplants. The trick is to play smart and sparingly.
STEP 1: Pick a Target
Start small.
“Marshmallows are disgusting.”
“I don’t like poker.”
“People who say ‘irregardless’ should be gently relocated to another planet.”
Choose a belief that feels obvious and comfortable. The more comfortable it feels, the more fun it is to poke.
STEP 2: Write Your Case
Explain why you believe it.
Example:
“I hate marshmallows because the texture is like chewing on a cloud that owes me money.”
Be honest. No fancy philosophy. Just your real reasons.
STEP 3: Attack Yourself
Now flip sides and argue against you.
Ask:
What hidden assumptions am I making?
Have I only tried bad marshmallows?
Is poker really about randomness, or is it about social manipulation?
Am I confusing ‘I dislike it’ with ‘it is objectively terrible’?
Try to dismantle your own position like a very polite lawyer cross-examining your ego.
STEP 4: Design a Test
Not everything needs a lab coat.
For marshmallows:
Try three radically different kinds — toasted, homemade, fancy hazelnut-chocolate ones roasted over cedar and maple while hypothetically falling into a black hole.
For poker:
Play once with no money, no bluffing, open hands. See what part you actually hate.
You’re not trying to win.
You’re trying to learn.
STEP 5: Score Yourself
Give your belief a confidence rating:
60% = “meh, probably”
80% = “pretty sure”
95% = “I would bet snacks on this”
Then ask:
“What evidence would drop this by 10 points?”
If the answer is “nothing,” congratulations — you’ve discovered a religion, not an opinion.
STEP 6: Schedule a Rematch
This is the secret sauce.
You don’t do this constantly.
You do it occasionally.
Once a month, once a year — revisit a belief and try again. Brains change. Evidence changes. You change.
Even Einstein expected relativity to break someday.
Maybe you’ll someday find the one marshmallow that bends spacetime.
IMPORTANT SAFETY RULES
Don’t play this game with every thought.
Don’t interrogate your breakfast cereal.
Save the heavy rounds for meaningful stuff.
Most of the time, test the little things.
Every once in a while, test a big one:
“Do I really believe in cosmic karma?”
“Is my political view actually justified?”
“Am I the villain in anyone’s story?”
WHY PLAY?
Because certainty is boring.
Solved games like tic-tac-toe are dull.
Uncertainty is where curiosity lives.
The point isn’t to be right.
The point is to stay interesting.
If you can’t prove yourself wrong today, shrug and say:
“Challenge accepted — I’ll try again later.”
Congratulations. You now know The Feynman Game.
Go forth, question gently, and remember:
Even if you’re 99.999% sure you hate marshmallows,
leave room for the maple-scented black-hole exception.
[Some clarifying comments because I don't want to edit this more. I really hate marshmallows and I mostly know why. I really don't like playing poker and I feel like I know 40% why. The part about black holes was my brain saying there has to be some fringe case where I like marshmallows (unlikely). The maple thing was I am a Vermonter who moved to some other mountains where nature is not trying to murder me with ice (most of the time). So half Canadian¯\_(ツ)_/¯ The cedar thing, TikTok will not give me enough space to explain that. So if you want to know, come find me on my mountain. Anyways, please enjoy the game and go read anything by Mr. Richard Feynman.]
The Feynman Game is truly an eye-opener when it comes to self-reflection and critical thinking. I started playing it by picking a trivial belief I held, like my dislike for certain foods, which really helped me realize how much of our judgments are based on subjective experiences or limited samples. For example, when I applied the game to my dislike of marshmallows, I followed the steps and tried different varieties — including toasted and gourmet ones — which surprisingly softened my stance a bit. It’s fascinating how simple tests can provide valuable insights and even make us question what we thought was absolute. One thing I found particularly useful is the step where you attack your own belief by identifying hidden assumptions. This felt like a polite but rigorous internal debate, where I uncovered biases and questioned if my feelings were truly objective. It reminds me of how Richard Feynman, the physicist, valued curiosity and willingness to be wrong as essential traits for growth. Scheduling a rematch with the same belief after some time passed was an unexpected benefit. It gave me a way to track how my confidence in that belief changed based on new experiences or evidence, making personal growth measurable in a practical sense. Also, the references to the maple and cedar fire and even the whimsical mention of a black hole add a creative and personal touch that invites engagement. Personally, I see this as a reminder that even deeply held beliefs should leave room for exceptions or new possibilities — a mindset that keeps the brain honest and open. If you want to start small, try applying the game to everyday opinions or preferences, like whether you enjoy a hobby or a food item. Reflect on why you hold these beliefs, challenge yourself compassionately, and try out simple experiments or new experiences. You’ll likely find that it’s less about proving yourself wrong and more about enriching your understanding and keeping your curiosity alive. This game isn’t just mental exercise; it’s a joyful exploration of how we think, believe, and sometimes surprise ourselves.