We had a small wooden carving of Gandhi's three monkeys on the wall of our living room when I was growing up. See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil.
As a child, I thought I understood it completely. Don't look at bad things. Don't listen to bad things. Don't say bad things. Simple.
Then life happened — and I understood it completely differently.
What I Thought It Meant
The childhood interpretation is almost universal: shut your eyes and ears to the world's darkness, and don't contribute to it.
It's a lovely idea. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work in 2025.
We live in an age where bad news doesn't just arrive at your door — it arrives in your pocket, vibrating, at 3am. Where social media algorithms are specifically engineered to keep your nervous system in a state of mild, sustained outrage. Where the sheer volume of information makes it nearly impossible to simply close your eyes and pretend the noise isn't there.
The old interpretation of the three monkeys — passive avoidance — is not sufficient for modern life.
What It Actually Means (I Think)
The deeper teaching, the one that took me years to understand, is not about avoidance at all. It's about response.
You will see evil. You will hear it. You cannot escape that entirely — not if you're a functioning, connected human being who cares about the world. And sometimes, you will need to speak about difficult things too.
The monkeys aren't saying don't perceive these things. They're saying don't let them take up permanent residence inside you.
See it. Acknowledge it. Then choose — consciously, deliberately — what you do next. Do not let the evil you observe become the lens through which you see everything else.
The Inner World Is the Real Battlefield
Here's what changed for me: I stopped trying to control the outside world and started working on controlling my response to it.
This is Stoic philosophy. It's also Buddhist teaching. It's what Marcus Aurelius was getting at when he wrote: "You have power over your mind — not outside events. Realise this, and you will find strength."
The three monkeys, in this reading, are about protecting your inner world — not by ignoring reality, but by refusing to let reality's darkness dictate the quality of your thoughts.
It sounds simple. It is, in fact, one of the hardest disciplines there is.
A Daily Practice
The way I try to practise this:
Morning — before I look at my phone, I spend five minutes in deliberate thought. What do I want today to feel like? What's one thing I'm genuinely grateful for?
When consuming news — I ask myself: Is this something I can act on, or am I just absorbing anxiety? If it's the latter, I close the tab.
In conversations — before I speak, especially when I'm upset: Is what I'm about to say true, necessary, and kind? If it fails any of those three, I usually stay quiet.
It doesn't always work. Some days the noise wins. But over time — slowly, quietly — it shifts something.
The Contagion Runs Both Ways
Here's the thing nobody tells you about Gandhi's monkeys: the principle runs in both directions.
Yes, you can absorb evil from the world around you. But you can also absorb — and transmit — something entirely different.
Positivity is contagious. Calm is contagious. Genuine listening is contagious. Kindness, when it's real and not performative, spreads.
The three monkeys were always about what you choose to let in and what you choose to send out. In a world drowning in noise, choosing to send out something quieter, kinder, and more considered is not a small act.
It might be the most radical thing you can do.
What does your practice look like? I'd love to know how you manage the noise. Drop a message through the contact page.
