My grandpa, or “Nonno,” is retired and ushers Cubs games in his free time. A couple hours before every game, he meets up with his co-worker friends at the Starbucks right outside the stadium. They hang out there, and then walk over to Wrigley for the game. It’s a routine.

One muggy July afternoon, seeing that I had nothing to do, I decided to tag along with my Nonno. I ended up finding myself in a giant circle of 70 year olds discussing old-time baseball.

After a while, the conversation halted–my grandfather and his friends were arguing about some old-time player. They couldn’t place his name.

All of them were unbelievably perplexed–mumbling to themselves, impulsively shouting out names. No one could recall it. I sat back and watched the mild chaos.

Seeing that everyone was stumped, I turned to my grandfather and offered to Google the name of the mystery man. With a few clicks, I could easily end the turmoil, and the conversation could resume. I thought it was a no-brainer.

As I reached for my phone, my Nonno stopped me. He looked around the circle, seeing everyone in deep thought, laughed, and simply said, “What’s the fun in that?”

Then I realized: What would be the fun in subduing that playful disorder? Everyone was amped up, with endless random names bouncing off the confines of our little circle. Why would I want to end that with a click?

That night, still dumbfounded by my Nonno’s response, I started doing a bit of research into how our brains process information.

When we are asked a question, we human beings use abductive, deductive, and inductive reasoning to construct explanations. These reasoning processes are skills we develop overtime. I fear that our generation is slowly losing these skills.

With a click of a button unveiling the answer to any question, why would you even need them?

I oftentimes use Google to extinguish even the smallest embers of a question in my head. And yes, sometimes that’s a good thing. The search engine has served me well when I needed to know the score of the Packers game, or when I thought that my cat was dying because she wasn’t meowing (she wasn’t dying).

But as I realized at Starbucks, some questions are better left unanswered, at least for awhile. What can come from those unanswered questions, after all, are burning curiosity, collaboration, or maybe even more questions.

Why would we want to sacrifice those?

So maybe next time don’t instinctively Google the answer of a question your friend poses, or the name of the sports player you are blanking on. Let yourself relish the search. Enjoy the suspense of the inquiry. After all, isn’t it the exploring that matters?

Maybe ask the person next to you for help. More importantly, let that simple ember ignite, catch fire, and blaze into something else entirely, leading you down a mental off-road journey. You’ll probably get your answer along the way.