Curious Lanterns: Real-World Wisdom Shared Between Strangers

Among the faculty at Zenithex Morpheus, Simen’s approach to teaching critical thinking in journalism is anything but formulaic. He doesn’t just hand out checklists; instead, he nudges students into unfamiliar territory, sometimes by asking a question that seems, at first, almost beside the point. For example, during a session on source evaluation, he once passed around a decades-old press badge—frayed edges and all—before asking, “What stories do you think this badge could and couldn’t get you into?” That kind of thing tends to stick with people, even if they only realize why much later. Simen’s philosophy leans heavily on the idea that adult learners need to uncover their own blind spots, not just be told about them. He orchestrates sequences of activities—sometimes subtle, sometimes jarringly direct—that eventually interlock in ways students only recognize when they look back. The classroom itself feels part newsroom, part debating club, punctuated by odd moments of quiet when everyone’s still mulling over his last question. He draws on a background that’s hard to pin down in one line: stints with both rookie reporters and seasoned editors, teaching in settings ranging from cramped city workshops to sleek corporate boardrooms. Maybe that’s why he’s so comfortable with messiness—of thought, of process, of people’s stories. Simen almost never mentions his published work, but if you read between the lines, you can sense its influence in the way he insists on nuance, even when everyone else wants a simple answer. His questions have a way of following students out the door, showing up again—unexpected and persistent—when they’re back in the field. And sometimes, after a long class, you’ll spot him quietly rearranging the chairs, as if setting the stage for the next round of questions.