On the difference between novelty and insight

And why that matters for the world of ideas

This piece was co-authored by Nason Maani, and his version is cross-posted here.

We live in a world that often appears to love the new, from new technologies and products, to new policies, to new publications, carrying an inbuilt assumption that if an idea is new, it is worthy of focus. Our brains are wired to light up at new things. Neuroscience shows that our reward system is stimulated by novelty; encountering an unfamiliar idea or object triggers curiosity and attention. This “novelty bias” can be useful, it pushes us to explore and learn, but it also creates a cognitive fallacy: we often assume something is better simply because it is new. Psychologists call this the novelty fallacy, the informal belief that newer equals better. In modern life, we see it everywhere. We rush to buy the latest smartphone or try the hottest trend. The same bias applies to ideas: the latest theory or discovery grabs our interest more than well-trodden knowledge, regardless of its actual value.

Social media and news amplify this bias. Online, algorithms favor fresh content and surprising or attention-grabbing headlines because they are the posts that engage us most. False news (often novel and sensational) spreads far faster and wider than truthful news on platforms like Twitter. Why? Because we are likelier to share novel information, creating an algorithmic amplification of novelty: outrageous rumors and click-bait ideas get disproportionate attention, while nuanced or familiar truths get drowned out. The result is an information ecosystem where the loudest voices (often pushing novel or extreme claims) eclipse the most thoughtful voices. The design of our digital platforms, optimizing for engagement and rapid reaction, fuels this cycle, making it ever more tempting to equate newness with importance as we will discuss in a future essay on ideas and the attention economy.

But new is not always better, or true. How many novel apps end up being a waste of time and money? How about dietary fads? How many novel ideas ultimately disappoint? It seems to us that this tension between our attraction to novelty and the actual merits of an idea is at the heart of understanding novelty vs. insight.

If the attraction of novelty is about its newness, the value of insight is its relationship to meaning and truth. An insight might be an idea that illuminates a deeper understanding of a problem or offers a new perspective that clarifies prior complexity. Crucially, an insight can be novel in relation to a particular topic, but it does not have to be brand new. Sometimes an old idea becomes insightful when applied in a new context or when it is suddenly appreciated anew. Mark Twain once quipped that there is “no such thing as a new idea,” and ironically, Aristotle said as much centuries earlier. What we think of as novel insight is often a quilt of ideas that have already been around but stitched together in ways in which we can achieve new insight.

There has been much thought and said about the recycling and recombining of ideas throughout history. In the history and philosophy of science, Thomas Kuhn famously described how research progresses through long periods of “normal” puzzle-solving, punctuated by occasional paradigm shifts where there are sudden leaps forward in insight or understanding. A paradigm-shifting idea (like heliocentrism or relativity) is undeniably novel, but scientists do not embrace it just because it’s new. In fact, Kuhn noted, “in science, novelty emerges only with difficulty, manifested by resistance, against a background provided by expectation.” New ideas that really matter tend to fight their way into acceptance, because they have to overcome the weight of existing belief. They succeed not by their novelty alone, but by their explanatory power, they demonstrably solve anomalies or answer questions the old framework could not. In Kuhn’s view, an idea’s importance lies in how it reconstructs our understanding of reality, not in the mere fact that it hasn’t been seen before. A true insight often changes the game (what Kuhn called a “reconstruction of prior theory” needed for a new paradigm), whereas a trivial novelty might just tweak something without deeper impact.

Bruno Latour and other science and technology studies scholars add that whether a new idea becomes an “insight” (an accepted fact or useful theory) depends on social processes and networks of credibility. Latour’s ethnographic study Laboratory Life showed that scientific facts are not simply “discovered” in a vacuum but rather gain legitimacy as researchers debate it, gather evidence, replicate results, and eventually take it for granted as truth. In this process, many novel claims fall away and only some become solid insights. A new idea without that grounding may turn out to be a flash in the pan. This underscores why novelty (just being new) is indeed not enough. Instead, insight requires relevance, validation, context, and often endurance.

Hannah Arendt wrote about the conditions of modernity that drive us into “accelerating cycles of labor and consumption”, where we constantly seek new products and outputs at the expense of reflection and lasting meaning. Arendt distinguished between making something new and making something meaningful. In The Human Condition, she described how true action can “insert something original and unanticipated into the world,” bringing genuine meaning and change, whereas mere routine production can become an endless pursuit of the new-for-the-sake-of-new. She worried that productivity was replacing meaningfulness in modern life, a sentiment we can all likely relate to in some way. We can draw a parallel to ideas themselves: our effort to push new ideas can, if we are not careful, detract from work that genuinely offers insights. Arendt’s concern was that by elevating the vita activa (active life of making and doing) above the vita contemplativa (life of thinking and understanding), modern society might lose the capacity to judge what innovations are truly worthwhile. And perhaps there is something to that indeed.

So how do we tell the difference between insight and novelty? We suggest that we can ask a few key questions when we encounter new ideas: Does it solve a real problem or answer a meaningful question? Does it build on what is already known in a way that clarifies or advances understanding? Will it matter in a year (or ten)? Distinguishing novelty from insight is not just an academic exercise. It has profound implications for knowledge production, academic life, and the legitimacy and lasting impact of ideas in society.

And with that recognition, what is the implication of these observations for the generation of ideas? When we think about it carefully, it becomes clear that chasing novelty for novelty’s sake can lead us astray in the pursuit of meaningful ideas. The allure of the new will always tug at our attention, that flash of something untried or unconventional can inspire curiosity and a creative spark. But true insight requires a bit more than a flash that catches the eye. It requires reflection, context, and often a hard-earned fit with reality. A novel claim might intrigue or gain quick popularity (as we see with viral rumors or academic fads), yet if it does not deepen understanding or stand up to scrutiny, its shine will fade, and it will ultimately prove a distraction from work that matters more. Insight, by contrast, has staying power: it enlightens and endures, changing how we think or behave long after the excitement of “newness” wears off. We might say that insight is novelty that has proven its mettle, not just new, but true in a way that matters.

What does this mean for the generation of ideas? It suggests that we must balance our creative drive with the capacity for critical evaluation. Certainly, we can harness the energy of novelty in brainstorming, but we should then interrogate each idea: does it solve a real problem or just offer a flashy difference? Who does it serve, and in what ways? Is a novel self-proclaimed paradigm shift usually as advertised? It may be often better to build on what is already known to give new concepts depth, recognizing that ignoring past knowledge risks repeating old mistakes. And crucially, we would be well served to give fresh ideas time and testing to prove themselves through evidence or practical impact before anointing them as genuine insights. In academic life and knowledge work, this perspective means valuing rigor, evaluation and lasting significance as much as originality, rather than rewarding novelty alone. And for society at large, it reminds us to resist the hype cycle that equates the trending new thing with true importance. Ultimately, generating truly valuable ideas requires blending curiosity with wisdom, letting novelty spark inspiration, but ensuring that the ideas we embrace and carry forward represent true insights into ourselves and the wider world.

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The Ideas about Ideas project

The Ideas about Ideas project, co-written with Dr Nason Maani, and cross-posted on the Money, Power, Health substack is a series of reflections of how thought lives in the world. It follows ideas as they emerge in institutions and everyday life, as they move across borders, as they harden into orthodoxy or fade into silence. It argues that ideas are not possessions but shared conditions of living, and that to see them clearly is to recognize both their power and the obligations they impose. Fundamentally, this project is built on the notion that without ideas we have nothing, and that the business of creating a healthier, better world rests on ideas.

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Also this week

In The Lancet Psychiatry:

Harnessing the power of constitutional rights and legal frameworks to scale up public mental health implementation – with Michael Ni, Candi Leung, Trevor Wan, Jonathan Campion, Neeraj Gill, and Eric Ip.

In JAMA Network Open:

National Support for Wealth-Building for Children From Low-Income Households – with Catherine Ettman, Andrew Anderson, Megan Smith, David Radcliffe, and Brian Castrucci.

In Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology:

Loneliness, depression, and generalized anxiety across eight countries – with Salma Abdalla, Bernard Banda, Madison Pickerel, Sam Rosenberg, and Swati Sharma.