The Inner Monologue

By definition, a problem is something with a solution—a puzzle to be cracked, an error to be fixed, a task to be completed. This mindset dominates modern thinking: everything is a problem, and therefore everything must have a solution. If only we think hard enough, spend enough money, build enough technology, or legislate enough rules, we’ll crack it.

But what happens when a so-called “problem” has no solution?

That’s not a rhetorical question. Increasingly, we’re confronting challenges not because they’re fixable in the traditional sense, but because they’re not. These are not puzzles waiting for the correct key. They are permanent, shifting realities. And our obsession with solving them may be getting in the way of the wiser—and more difficult—approach: managing them.

The Tyranny of “Solving”

In Western culture, particularly American culture, there’s an almost religious faith in solutions. This isn’t necessarily bad; it’s how we got vaccines, internet, refrigeration, and satellites. But not everything is a broken machine. Not everything can be reverse-engineered, repackaged, or optimized.

Our language reflects our assumptions. Climate change is framed as a problem. So is aging. So are poverty, war, addiction, inequality, loneliness, and grief. The word “problem” signals to policymakers, engineers, and entrepreneurs that these are solvable if we just try harder.

But what if that framing is wrong?

Beyond Problem/Solution Thinking

Once you stop seeing every challenge as a solvable problem, you begin to unlock a broader vocabulary—and with it, a more mature understanding of reality.

Let’s look at a few alternatives:

🔁 Persistent Challenge

Some things don’t go away. They must be worked on endlessly, not because we’re failing, but because that’s the nature of the thing. Parenting is a persistent challenge. So is public health. So is democracy.

Solutions imply an end state. Management implies ongoing stewardship.

🧩 Wicked Problem

Coined by design theorists, a “wicked problem” is one that resists simple or even complete solutions. It is entangled, multi-causal, and socially embedded. Fix one part, and you disturb another. Think homelessness, systemic racism, or educational inequity. You don’t solve wicked problems. You navigate them.

🪨 Constraint

A constraint isn’t a problem—it’s a boundary. It’s gravity. It’s the speed of light. It’s human nature. You don’t solve constraints; you learn to work within them. Constraints force creativity. They define reality. Accepting them is not surrender, but wisdom.

The Myth of Mastery

The belief that we can solve all problems is seductive. It gives us a sense of control, of superiority over nature, over others, over ourselves.

But it’s often a lie.

No startup will “solve” aging. No law will “fix” poverty. No therapy session will “erase” grief. And no amount of innovation will “solve” climate change in a way that resets the world to some ideal baseline.

These aren’t problems. They’re conditions.

Conditions can be shaped, managed, mitigated, but they do not disappear. Our refusal to accept this leads to toxic optimism, wasted effort, and often, catastrophic backlash.

The Cost of Solvability Obsession

There are real consequences to pretending every issue has a solution:

• Overpromising, underdelivering: Politicians sell false hope. Tech companies pitch hype. When reality fails to conform, public trust erodes.
• Burnout and blame: Workers and activists collapse under the weight of trying to “solve” things that are inherently unresolvable. When failure is framed as personal weakness, people walk away.
• Avoidance of nuance: If the only acceptable path is a total solution, then partial measures, ongoing work, and maintenance are seen as failure. We don’t invest in management—we chase silver bullets.

Toward a New Ethos: Management, Not Mastery

So what do we do instead?

We change our frame. We stop asking “How do we solve this?” and start asking:

• How do we manage this complexity?
• How do we balance competing values?
• How do we live with the parts of life that hurt?
• How do we build systems that adapt instead of “win”?

This shift isn’t about giving up. It’s about growing up.

The manager of a chronic condition isn’t lazy—they’re wise. The city that invests in adaptation rather than complete prevention isn’t weak—it’s realistic. The parent who knows some sibling rivalry is inevitable isn’t failing—they’re choosing their battles.

In a world where the greatest challenges are systemic, intertwined, and enduring, we need leaders and citizens who aren’t pretending to be magicians. We need gardeners, not surgeons. Stewards, not heroes.

Conclusion: Redefining Success

The future will be shaped not by those who promise to “solve everything,” but by those willing to live with complexity, hold competing truths, and manage the unmanageable with clarity and care.

Maybe that’s the truest form of problem-solving after all.

Not mastery, but maturity.
Not solution, but stewardship.
Not a finish line, but a way of walking.