THE PHILOSOPHER. Can you deny what I say?
THE LADY. But--but life isn’t all habit. We must think--in order to
make--decisions.
THE PHILOSOPHER. It is not customary. We let our wishes fight it out,
and the strongest has its way. But I once knew a man who did think
in order to make his decisions. The result was that he always made
them too late. And what was worse, the habit grew upon him. He got to
thinking about everything he wanted to do, with the result that he
couldn’t do anything. I told him that he’d have to stop thinking--that
it wasn’t healthy. Finally he went to a doctor, and sure enough the
doctor told him that it was a well known disease--a neurosis. Its
distinguishing mark was that the patient always saw two courses
open to him everywhere he turned--two alternatives, two different
ways of doing something, two women between whom he must choose, two
different theories of life, and so on to distraction. The reason for
it, the doctor said, was that the patient’s will, that is to say the
functioning of his emotional wish-apparatus, had become deranged, and
the burden of decision was being put upon a part of the mind incapable
of bearing it--the logical faculty. He cured my friend’s neurosis, and
now he thinks no more about the practical affairs of life than you or I
or anybody else. So you see thinking is abnormal--even dangerous. Why
do you want to teach children to think?
THE LADY. Well--it is rather taken for granted that the object of
education is learning to think.
THE PHILOSOPHER. But is that true? If it is, why do you teach your
children the multiplication table, or the rule that the square of the
hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the squares
of the other two sides--unless in order to save them the trouble of
thinking? By the way, what is the capital of Tennessee, and when did
Columbus discover America?
THE LADY. Nashville, 1492. Why?
THE PHILOSOPHER You didn’t have to stop to think, did you? Your memory
has been well trained. But if you will forgive the comparison, so has
my dog’s been well trained; when I say, ‘Towser, show the lady your
tricks,’ he goes through an elaborate performance that would gladden
your heart, for he is an apt pupil; but I don’t for a moment imagine
that I have taught him to think.
THE LADY. Then you don’t want children taught the multiplication table?
THE PHILOSOPHER.. I? Most certainly I do. And so far as I am concerned,
I would gladly see a great many other short cuts in mathematics taught,
so as to save our weary human brains the trouble of thinking about such
things. I am in fact one of the Honorary Vice-Presidents of the Society
for the Elimination of Useless Thinking.
THE LADY. I am afraid you are indulging in a jest.
THE PHILOSOPHER.. I am afraid I am. But if you knew Philosophers better
you would realize that it is a habit of ours to jest about serious
matters. It is one of our short-cuts to wisdom. Read your Plato and
William James again. Delightful humorists, both of them, I assure you.
I fear you went to them too soberly, and in too much of a hurry.
THE LADY. Doubtless your jokes have a historic sanctity, since you say
so, but I do not feel that they have advanced our inquiry very much.
THE PHILOSOPHER. I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes. What do
you want to know?
THE LADY. I want to know what is the use of thinking?
THE PHILOSOPHER. Ah, my jest was not in vain, if it provoked you to
that. I should call that question the evidence of a real thought.
THE LADY. Well, what is the answer?
THE PHILOSOPHER. Oh, please don’t stop, now that you have made such a
good start! Think again, and answer your own question.
THE LADY. Hm....
THE PHILOSOPHER. Yes?
THE LADY. I was thinking of Newton and the apple. If it hadn’t been for
Newton’s ability to think, he would never have formulated the law of
gravitation.
THE PHILOSOPHER. And what a pity that would have been--wouldn’t it?
THE LADY. You mean that it makes very little practical difference to us?
THE PHILOSOPHER. It would if the town were being bombarded. The
Newtonian calculations are considered useful by the artillery schools.
But it is true that it was Newton and not an artillery officer who made
them.
THE LADY. You mean that the artillery captain would have been too
intent on practical matters?
THE PHILOSOPHER. And in too much of a hurry. Then there’s the
steam-engine. Useful invention--the very soul of hurry. Who invented
it--some anxious postilion who thought horses were too slow? Or
somebody whose mind was so empty of practical concerns that it could be
intrigued by a tea-kettle? And by the way, it was Stephenson, wasn’t
it, who applied the steam-principle to locomotion? I’ve a very poor
memory, but I think Watt’s engine was just a toy. No practical use
whatever. Other people found out the practical uses for it. Arkwright.
Fulton. Hoe. Et cetera.
THE LADY. I see. The results of thinking may be put to use afterward,
but the motive for thinking is not the desire to produce such results.
I wonder if that is true?
THE PHILOSOPHER. What is the common reproach against philosophers and
scientists?