Genre

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Wise Sayings 6 from Ron Lucius

***

"Comparisons: Better and Worse"

1

A pain in the Neck

     is better than a pain in the A--

2

Chicken S--t is better than Horse S--t

     which is better than Bull S--t

          which is better than going Ape S--t

                     or being Bat-S--t crazy.

Who decides these things?


……………………………………………………………………Ron Lucius

***

Sunday, July 17, 2011

JYA in Paris, Part I (of 2)

***

I was recently given a good collection of recent memories of Paris, where I lived and studied for a year in 1962-63, my junior year in college.  The editors of this book had asked a large number of professional writers to write short pieces relating to how the great French capital had changed their lives, without necessarily analysing the nature of the change.  My own experience in Paris when I was 20 and 21 certainly did change the "me" I have become, so I decided to recall several especially vivid memories from that year in Paris.

1

Part I of this exercise involves some early experiences with learning the French language.  All the two dozen or so of us college students in my JYA group were first involved in a six-week language and orientation program, which began with the five-day trip via ocean liner.

The whole program was eventually littered with rules about speaking the language that may have had some logic behind them but no practicality whatsoever.  Hmmm, "logical but not practical": now that I think of it, maybe these rules were part of our orientation to French culture!

The first rule of this sort was that we were all supposed to converse with each other at our meal tables using French only.  I figured I would imitate a deaf mute, a stratagem I did later adopt for several months, as it turned out.  In a strange quirk of my course selection at college, I had ended my sophomore year having taken only one semester of French Language, followed by just one semester of French Literature.  Everyone else, not only at my college, but - as I discovered - everywhere else, took at least two semesters of Language before starting Literature, which itself took two semesters too.  

So I was significantly disadvantaged compared to everyone else in my program.  The so-called "beginners" had all completed two years of college French, compared to my one, and the "more advanced" students had started their French up to six years earlier, including all four years of high school French!

None of us knew each other until we first got on board in New York, and we were all pretty excited too, so to think we could confine ourselves to speaking French to our new American friends at any time was silly, especially during meals.  What saved the day was that our only supervisor - the wife of our program's director - attempted to enforce the ban on English only at her own one table, which had places for only four.  When all of us came to dine, therefore, three lucky folks got to sit and speak French with Mme S------.  For the most advanced students, this was in fact a good opportunity to polish their skills, and they willingly filled the three empty places at her table at lunch and dinner.

But we happened to pass within 100 miles of a little hurricane after a day or two at sea, which made the ship more unstable than usual... the result of which was that for a while, not a full complement of students actually showed up for meals.  Thank goodness sea-sickness was not one of my own problems.  Coupled with the fact that we all stayed up half the night having fun every night, the ship's pitching meant that the breakfast crowd was especially small.  I myself never missed.

Sooo, one morning I turned out to be the only person besides Mme. S------ who showed up for breakfast.  It was my turn to sit with her and speak (and hear) French.  Being a deaf mute was not an option. 

We managed to exchange a pleasantry or two and ordered our breakfasts (I in English), until there we were, face-to-face.  Somehow, by the grandest good fortune we ended up - Mme. S------ and I - having a rather animated conversation comparing Marilyn Monroe with Brigitte Bardot!  She had to repeat, slow down, and rephrase everything, of course, and I had to think carefully and haltingly grind something out, with coaching from her... So that was enough to get us through breakfast.  (By the way, my pronunciation was always pretty good, so it may actually have seemed I knew what I was doing better than I really did.)

When I told my new friends later than I'd been forced to have breakfast speaking French with our supervisor, everyone was especially sympathetic, sorry for me.  But I was able to tell them sincerely it had actually been sort of like fun.  Fortunately, the same situation never repeated itself!  (Could Mme. S------ herself have stopped getting up early enough for breakfast?)

2

Our first month in Paris, every day we spent three or four hours in class at our little Institute and, as we did all year, had lunch together there.  Mornings were spent doing language exercises; at least some afternoons were spent listening to talks by experts (really) on French culture: politics, existential philosophy, economics, some history, art, and so on.  We were divided into a beginner group and a more advanced group.   I couldn't believe it, but I ended up in the more advanced group.  (I figured it was because of my pretty-good accent and that conversation about Bardot and Monroe.)

The teachers switched around, we supposed in order to expose us to a variety of different voices and accents.  But we all agreed that by far the best teacher was a certain Mme. H---.  Her name was not recognizably French, and she eventually told us that her husband was an American businessman who had lived in Paris since the war.  She told us great stories, including one amusing anecdote showing how idioms were based on different metaphors in different languages.

It had to do with smoking (Mme. H--- being a smoker herself).  To ask for a light or a match  in French, you say, "Avez-vous feu?" [Literally: "Do you have fire?"].  During the war, when she was a young woman, Mme. H--- (Mlle. then, of course) had gone to a USO dance with American soldiers, a small group of whom she had approached with a cigarette between her fingers and said, in her best English: "Do you have fire for me, soldier?"  We thought it was great that she could tell that story on herself.

3

One of Mme. H---'s homework questions was for each of us to come the next morning with an answer to the question (in French, of course),  Why do I get up in the morning?  Yes, it was dumb, but it was a good enough question for the purpose of challenging us to talk.

As luck would have it, Mme. H--- called on three of us that next morning.  The first said something dumb but appropriate, like wanting to not waste valuable time.  Mme. critiqued and then called on someone else, who did the same, saying something dumb but okay.  Then, Mme. H--- turned to me, whom she had thus far left to my own devices.  "M. Derique, Why do you get up in the morning?"   My reply was a question: Comment dit-on en francais...? (i.e. "How do you say in French...?") then, in English, "a full bladder."

Everybody howled raucously, and Mme. H--- openly laughed too.  I had escaped again.


The other regular teacher in the Institute orientation program, by contrast, was just awful.  She was more scared of us than we were of her.  She was ditsy too, and barely prepared every day.  Mme. H--- seemed a professional, while Mme. la Comtesse (yes, a countess) did not.  Still, it was she who had been selected to give us an afternoon talk on the topic of the relation between the American and French Revolutions.  Unfortunately, her thesis was that there would have been no American Revolution if it had not been for the French Revolution.  The Americans had feebly imitated the French's democratic initiative, she maintained.  After 30 minutes of her lecture, no one had the heart to mention that by definition, in any language, to be a cause of an event, your event must come first.

4

Especially for me, one of the most memorable Paris events that year occurred on the first evening.  We had arrived at each of our various residences, mine and three others' at a small boarding house near the Eiffel Tower, in the early afternoon.  We were to gather at our little Institute near the Arch of Triumph for dinner (that day only) a few hours later.

A couple of weeks before I had left home for New York, my Dad had given me a guidebook to Paris that had been recommended by an old friend.  It was filled with detailed maps on the right page, with information about the sites in that area on the left page.  I took it with me.  I must have looked that guidebook over and over again: at home, on the ship, and on that afternoon in my room.   I especially didn't want to get lost on my way to dinner.

After our meal, about six of us decided to walk the couple of blocks up to l'Arc de Triomphe and take a look at the famous Champs-Elysees, which proceeded two and a half miles or so down from the Arch all the way to the Louvre Museum at the other end of downtown Paris.   We were all very excited.  It was obvious why Paris was known as the City of Lights, and everything seemed charmed. 

Pretty soon, it turned out that I was leading the way.  I was having an odd experience: as we came to each corner, I found I already knew what was there and what was near-by.  I didn't remember it; I knew it, just as I would have known each street on the main drag in my home town.

We had not intended to walk all the way to the Jardins des Tuileries outside the big museum, and along the way one or two dropped out of our fast-talking, slow-walking party.  At each street, I would say, "If you wanted to go to X, you would turn down this street to the left" or something like that.  I was giving the others a tour.

I especially remember drawing near Rue Royale at the Place de la Concorde and saying that l'Eglise de la Madeleine was just one block to the left.  When we got to the crossing and looked left, there it was, all lit up.  The thing is, it looked just like I knew it would.  It gave me the strangest thrill.

It gave me a sense that I was to feel the whole year to come.  I felt I had come home.



***

Friday, July 8, 2011

Making Sound Decisions

***

1

Americans, societies generally, or perhaps all human individuals, experience tension between the following:
    
     Emotion             and      Reason
     Superstition    and      Observation
     Dogma                and      Analysis
     Tradition          and      Knowledge.

About every issue and every choice, a person experiences a unique combination of these profound influences on his or her thinking and behavior.  In every decision about one's personal life - such as, whether to go to college and which one, whether to choose where to settle down by geographic preference or by job possibilities, whether to marry and whom to marry, how to prepare for retirement, and so on - in making each decision, one feels a mixture of emotions and rational concerns, one applies a combination of habitual belief and step-by-step analysis, one considers family and cultural norms and what is known about relevant facts.  When a decision is necessary, all influences come into play, whether the individual is highly intuitive making choices instantly or is more deliberative preferring to ponder each question for a while.

The same is true in making social, moral, and political choices - such as whether to wear sandals to a party, whether to tell a convenient lie or voice an uncomfortable truth, whether to vote for Candidate Y instead of Candidate X, and so on.  The same tensions between what you can see at the moment and what your past experience would tell you, between your customary choices and different choices whose advantages you can see, between your "heart" and your "head"... all such tensions work together and against one another to push you in one direction or another.

2

How important the choice is - to you, not to others near you, and not to institutions to which you may belong - the importance of the choice to you may make the decision more difficult and may change the influences that are the most powerful in the particular instance.  For example, if you hear a report that your best friend has secretly worked against your interest, your anger and sorrow may lead you to confront him or her without delay, despite the fact that your reason tells you that your friend would not do this to you and your analytical powers may help you dream up possible explanations for what you have heard.

By contrast, if someone you have known a long time but who has never been particularly close emotionally is said to have acted against your interest in some way, your surprise and perhaps a passing moment of self-doubt and your lack of first-hand knowledge may make you want to confront her or him, but if you have other, more important things on your mind, you may decide without much deliberation to go on as you customarily do, choosing to deal with this later, if at all.  The choice of how to respond in either case is harder or easier to make because of how important the personal offense is.

If you have long defined yourself in part by membership in a particular group, toward whom your customary trust and preconceived ideas have been shaken by some new revelation, then deciding what to do - forgive and forget, agitate for change designed to prevent recurrences, join a protest movement, or quietly leave the group - choosing your action in such a situation will be harder than deciding how to respond to a sad discovery about a rival group, because your decision in the first instance is so much more important to you than in the second case. 

The contest between competing influences - preconceived ideas vs. new knowledge, reasoned analysis vs. disgust or even fear, your wishes vs. your perceptions - these contrasting elements would be the same, whether the issue is important to you or not, but the important choice among the various influences would be much more difficult to make than the less important one.

3

Also, in such a difficult decision, the influences that most affect you may well be different from what most often guides your choices.  In other words, if you are generally a person who feels most comfortable with life continuing tomorrow as it has always done, you would usually be most likely to be guided by tradition and by what others have taught you rather than by what you yourself perceive or experience and by considering all factors in play at the time, when making a decision that you feel is of profound significance even you may be influenced more by your rational analysis of everything involved and by your new knowledge than by habit or temperament. 

The reverse is also true.  Faced with shocking news, a usually reasonable and fact-based individual may respond without careful consideration, motivated by deep emotion.  If a woman's grown son or daughter, for example, has made a choice that the mother instinctively questioned but whose benefits to the grown child do seem reasonable given the facts of the situation, then if she should learn that the daughter has been harmed as a result of her choice - humiliated, injured for life, or even killed - the mother herself (though normally cautious and deliberate) might actually experience despair, unable to call back to mind the analysis that prompted the son's or daughter's original decision.

In such a crisis situation, one may not only behave uncharacteristically but think and feel differently than before.  In crisis decision-making, the balance point between the influences in tension - emotion and reason, belief and perception, preconceptions and analytical thinking, and customary views and new facts - in times of crisis, the balance point may differ radically from one's usual modes of making decisions.

4

So all choices are made under the same basic influences by each of us, whether the choice is personal or moral or social in nature, whether it is particularly important or not, and whether one's final decision is or is not as might have been expected; but just which influences will predominate as the choice is made depends on the particular circumstances.


5

Let us examine a few examples of decision-making.



In 1998, Joanne was a mature, single, professional woman.  She prided herself on her reasonableness, pragmatism, and ability to get full value for her money.  She had been raised in a comfortable but modest middle-class family, and after college had made steady progress in her career without pursuing professional success to the exclusion of other interests.  When she took a week off for vacation, for example, it was characteristic of her that she would consider only activities that she could easily afford; she would seek relatively modest hotels and methods of travel and would plan carefully using comparison-shopping.  She knew she would not enjoy herself on the trip if she had not planned carefully beforehand.

It was her custom to make decisions on rational grounds.  Instead of basing choices on habit, she would make the effort to learn about the key factors in play at the time and make her decision based on prudent analysis of them.  For many, we might think, this would not seem like "fun," but it was for her.

Joanne did not usually drive more than 5,000 - 6,000 miles a year, and in her experience it was necessary to replace her car every ten years or so.  In that amount of time, she found that she did usually develop a sentimental attachment to her car, but she kept uppermost in her mind the fact that after a certain amount of time, it would not be intelligent to hang on to the old favorite when maintenance costs would no doubt soon begin to increase significantly.

In 1998, she began a deliberate search for a new car.  She was replacing a durable, dark-blue, American-made compact sedan with reasonably good gas mileage that she had driven for 12 years.  She felt like it was the best car she'd ever had, but its time had come.  After a lengthy process of researching and looking at the cars at various dealerships, she was tending to focus on three or four choices.  On one Saturday, she test drove them all.  The closest thing to the same model of automobile as her current car turned out to seem tinny and spartan, unlike the modest comfort she had grown accustomed to.  The model of the same make one step up seemed way too expensive, even though it was handsome and she trusted that auto-maker.

That brought her, at least for the moment, down to two choices.  Surprising herself, one of the cars Joanne was actually considering was the new Volkswagen Beetle.  It had a reasonable safety rating, was in her price range, and generally had been well received; so, even though it was smaller than her current car, something about it appealed to her.  The other choice was a Chevy sedan, just the kind of car she would usually have taken: practical, reliable, safe, conservative.

After a day or two, Joanne returned to the dealer for another test drive of the sedan.  Yes, it was just her kind of thing.  But she still hesitated.

When she awoke the next morning, though, Joanne knew just what she was going to do.  She went in to the dealer that evening, worked out what seemed a reasonable deal, and filled out the paperwork.  She bought the Beetle.  The one she ordered would be lavender.

This decision was so hard for Joanne to make because she felt that, this one time at least, she should respond to her personal, emotional impulse: she bought the Beetle mainly because she wanted to (and it wasn't outright stupid, from a practical perspective).  Her emotion in this case was a more important influence than her tried and true, rational, step-by-step approach.  And she just knew "in her heart" that it was the right thing to do.

b.  Case #2, a personnel decision

The firm Bernard worked for emphasized values over and above job skills alone, character traits such as dedication, interaction with other employees, receptiveness to suggestion and/or direction, loyalty, and volunteering for informal in-company responsibilities.  In employee merit evaluations, it was significant if, being candid, a supervisor or his V-P had to note that Employee X was great at his or her "core job" but needed to work harder to absorb the "company culture."   That would not be good.

Bernard found that such character attributes came naturally to him, and he also understood the pragmatic benefits of them to the firm, as they improved teamwork and collaboration, ability to interact positively with the customer or the vendor, job satisfaction, and average length of employment with the firm.  The traits were significant factors in Bernard's department's hiring decisions, and the CEO sometimes used his team as a model for other teams in this regard.

Information Technology was a critical field for an up-and-coming young firm with modest means, but there was more turnover in IT - Bernard's largest department - than in any other area, and successful searches were harder.  When he was honest with himself, Bernard recognized that he had to make compromises in the "company culture" expectations in IT hiring than in any other field.

SuLynn's application stood out from the other applicatants'.  She was originally from Bolivia though of Chinese origin.  She listed as her "Native Language" both Spanish and Mandarin Chinese.  She described her English as "Very Good."  Her education and professional background looked right; she was in a similar IT position at a small family firm in the Midwest and had moved up to that level over 14 years, with 5- and 9-year stints at other firms in the East (where Bernard's firm was located).  After reference checks and a good interview, she was hired.


Bernard's custom was to check out whether a new employee was still at work when he knocked off for the evening, for the first couple of days and then every so often after that.  SuLynn was always there, which was remarked by her immediate supervisor as well.  After only a couple of weeks, a staff member chairing a committee planning the annual company picnic emailed to say SuLynn had volunteered to help out.  Bernard mentioned to the CEO that on the "company culture" side, SuLynn had made a good start.

Within the first several weeks, however, he got reports of mistakes in her work.  Her supervisor said she was well-liked and she responded positively to feedback, but he was a little concerned.  This pattern continued for a while.  One morning SuLynn was waiting for Bernard when he got in at 7:45 a.m.  She looked tired, scared, nervous, and sad.

She had to tell him that she'd somehow let her H1B1 visa expire.  Her immigration attorney said that, with her skills and experience, as well as the shortage of qualified IT candidates, she would have no trouble getting it renewed, but it would take spending a month back in her native country where she would apply.

This was an odd enough situation that Bernard interrupted a one-on-one between the CEO and the head finance guy to explain that he was giving SuLynn a 30-day leave of absence to deal with the issue.  It was her problem, not the firm's; the others in IT could work okay shorthanded for that long, especially for someone they liked, but the damn thing was, if she didn't improve her core job performance within three or four more months, he might end up letting her go anyway.

The CEO liked SuLynn for her dedication and positive attitude.  All he said was to thank Bernard for keeping him in the loop.  But the CFO, with a little glint in his eye, said: "Why don't we contact her in two weeks, down in Bolivia, and say we've decided to reorganize the department and no longer need her services?"

The CEO always wanted every employee to be given every chance to succeed; if they responded well to coaching, they should stay until it was hopeless.  But he didn't respond to this suggestion right away.  After a second Bernard himself broke the silence: "We're not going to do that, Tom."

"Why not?"

"We're not going to do it, because it would be wrong."  The conference ended after a couple of minutes.

Even though Bernard spoke unhesitatingly, without taking time to think, all the usual influences shaped his decision.  Company policy (tradition) was to help people to succeed, not to hurry them out the door, and besides SuLynn looked as though she embodied all the character traits they valued so highly.  Bernard admired her having overcome obstacles in the past, although forgetting to renew the visa was really too much (emotion).  He knew his team could get along without her for a few weeks, especially since she volunteered to keep up with some of her regular tasks via computer (analysis).  And besides, all he had learned about the right way to treat others (established values) told him that the sneaky trick Tom had proposed was just reprehensible.  Bernard was angry it had been suggested.  Established beliefs and values, company tradition, practical analysis all led to the same conclusion: they would keep the position open for SuLynn.


c.  Case #3, political engagement

I'm an American, Randy said emphatically to himself as he rode the mower around his lawn on the north side of his South Carolina home.  I'm a free, white, American man, and you've taken advantage of me for the last time!

Randy had never been involved in politics.  Why bother? he'd thought. They'll find a way to screw you over anyway.  Those damn tax-and-spend democrats, he thought now, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.  This time, he vowed, we'll show them who's in charge in a free democracy, with a free market system.  Get the damn government out of our lives.   Let people make their own decisions.  Leave businesses alone so that they can put good Americans back to work.

As Lou had said last night, at least they still had their jobs.  But the Democrats need to leave businesses free to right the ship and get moving again. 

Randy and Lou soon attended their first political conference.  His favorite talk show hosts had been promoting it.  Randy knew there'd be nothing but friends and colleagues there, and all the leading figures who wanted to clean things up and clean them out in government were going to be speaking.  What could be better?

Randy was the kind of person who made decisions quickly.  He knew his own mind, and he didn't hesitate.  He was now so mad he knew he had to do something.  When he did vote, it was always for the most conservative candidate.  When there wasn't anyone willing to take back America for the people, he just didn't vote.  He'd always done it that way because that's who he was.  He couldn't listen to the national news anymore; they always had the so-called experts saying blah-blah-blah.  Why don't they just admit it: we're going to hell in a hand basket and we've had it up to here!

These days when he was on his break at work, he felt uneasy if he had to miss his afternoon 15 minutes with his favorite radio show.  They might be saying something he ought to know, he thought, and it wouldn't be good if he missed it.  Lou could tell him about it later, but she might get it wrong.

Randy's anger, his knowing his own mind, his sense that his conservative habits should always apply in every circumstance, and reliance on media personalities led him to decide to get involved for the first time in his life.

Up in Massachusetts, on the other hand, Wanda was also distressed about the economic mess we were in.  Over and over again, she found her thoughts going back to the poor and the homeless and the unemployed.  How could anyone just accept those widespread conditions?  The rich don't carry their fair share, she felt.  Big businesses look for huge, quick profits, and to hell with everybody else: that was her position.  Who could turn things around?

When Wanda got a letter or an email asking for money to help unfortunates, she couldn't give much, but if she didn't send a small donation, she was afraid one more child or one more parent might be left out.  We have to help those less fortunate than ourselves, she'd always felt; now that was even more necessary than ever.  Democrats "get it," she felt sure.  When the choice at the polls was between a good Democrat and any Republican these days, she didn't hesitate.  She told her family and friends to be sure and vote, thinking they'd vote her way most often.  If she missed an election herself, she was afraid the other candidate would be elected for sure.

Most times in these highly partisan days, Wanda made her political decisions quickly.  She knew from experience, from her heart, and from everything she'd ever believed is right, and she knew what she ought to do as a result.

Although Randy and Wanda ended up with very different political positions, their decision-making was similar.  The key influences in both cases were emotions, traditions, preconceived values, and a tendency toward a kind of magical thinking: if Wanda or Randy does not behave as she or he is inclined to do, rather than rationally analyzing the probable consequences based on observable facts, they each fear that the consequences of their inaction would be very bad for what they want to achieve. 

6

Whether quickly or deliberately made, whether complex or simple, whether predictable or surprising, all decisions grow out of the interaction of rationality and passion, established belief systems and critical analysis, fear or anger and clear recognition of what one sees around oneself, and traditional patterns of behavior and new perceptions about reality. 

The question whether or not one reaches "the right decision" is of lesser importance for those of us interested in the process of making any choice.  But can we speculate about which influences should predominate in the various kinds of decisions we all have to make from time to time?

There are essentially two kinds of decision: those clearly and significantly affecting others and those affecting others only incidentally (if at all).  For example, the decision of a single person living alone whether to have dinner at the usual time or either earlier or later does not affect anyone else.  The example of Joanne's selecting a new car in Case #1 above does affect others (like the car dealers she is working with) but only incidentally and thus may also be considered a personal decision.

Failing to know whether or not one's decision may significantly affect others would be a problem.  Here's why.  Having little or no effect on others, a personal decision allows the individual to let emotions be a greater influence in making his or her choice than in the case of decisions affecting others.  One's customs and one's established values or beliefs shouldn't be ignored even in such personal choices, and what the individual has learned from experience, training, or observation remains relevant and perhaps significant.  But what "feels right," regardless of other factors, can still be the best guide, leading to the personal decision with the most positive (or least negative) long-term consequences.

On the other hand, if observation, knowledge, reason, or analysis is disregarded or ignored in making decisions that do have the potential for affecting others, one's decisions are much more likely to have unfortunate consequences in the long run and may be downright irresponsible.  How the person feels about something, and how preconceived ideas and traditions would incline her or him to decide cannot and probably should not be overlooked altogether in making any type of choice.  But decisions impacting more than incidentally anyone besides oneself should not be made solely on the basis of emotions, tradition, and pre-existing beliefs.  If they are made on only these bases, decisions may be unfair, unjust, wrong, or at least insensitive.

Wanda and Randy in Case #3 above, for example, respond to political choices on the basis of emotion and on the basis of those influences most likely to stimulate and control one's emotions, namely tradition and preconceived beliefs or values.  The elements required for independent thinking - so critical in a democracy - are observation, knowledge, analysis, and reason.  In political decisions, without exercising the opposing force to one's passions (reason), one's superstitions (observation), one's fixed beliefs including biases (analysis), and one's inheritance from tradition (knowledge), one cannot hope to make the right choice - except by accident.

7

Decisions about whether an action is right or wrong - like the decision about SuLynn in case # 2 - are easily taken out of the individual's hands by inherited beliefs, values, or biases, by superstitions ("I will be punished if I make the wrong choice"), and by what others tell you, drawing on established traditions.  And what a shame it is to avoid responsibility for one's morality by depending solely on these external influences.  Unless their guidance is measured against their opposing influences' implications - observation and knowledge together with reasoned and independent analysis - they are unreliable guides just as likely to lead toward the opposite of what you wish to support in the long run as they are to lead toward it.

8

The United States of America is the product of what's often called "the Age of Enlightenment," the period in European cultures in the 17th and 18th centuries.  Thoughtful people in this period - out of which not only our best social institutions but also our sciences were born - were serious about how one gains knowledge of the truth.  In their time they were usually seeking certain knowledge, which is not a preoccupation of our time; in general, we understand that humans have to get along despite not being absolutely certain, about pretty much everything.

But what is useful for us still today is what Enlightenment writers identified as sources, not of knowledge, but of illusion and falsehood.  Sound decisions, of course, must be based on the truth.  For example, the 18th-century writers noted that one ordinarily understands that the source of most of what we know about the world is our sense observations: what we see, hear, feel, and touch (and so on).  But sometimes we think we see this or that, when in fact we later come to learn we did not see it.  Sense impressions, in other words, sometimes have to be corrected by something, perhaps simply by later observations, perhaps by reasoning, or by something else. 

It was self-evident to Enlightenment philosophers, by the way, that emotion was unrelated to the gain of knowledge, perhaps an obstacle to learning, while reason was an essential tool in increasing our knowledge.  Likewise, beliefs not founded on ordinary reality - superstitious beliefs (magic), for instance - could not be true or useful.

Many of these writers also came to believe that much of what they'd been taught by others did not hold up in light of their own experience and the combined experiences of those from other times and places.  Their traditions had taught them much, but in some - perhaps many - cases, what they had been taught turned out to be untrue.  One's own observations alone and tradition by itself are very possibly the source not of true understanding, they found, but more likely of falsehood or fantasy.

Much of what we are taught by others, of course, consists of the dogma of our time, our family, or our subculture.  And like the other claims for truth that our forefathers contemplated, they found that such established beliefs were as likely to be untrue as they were to be valid.

These writers found that knowledge - on which good decisions rest - did not come from one's fantasies or passions, from one's traditions or the accepted beliefs of one's culture, or even from one's own perceptions (although as independently gathered, unfiltered by others, one's own observations are more likely to be true than what one inherits from others).  The knowledge we can achieve and on which we must base all our actions comes from our independent observations, our analysis of how things influence each other, and our reason.

Sound decisions affecting others - whether apparently moral or political in nature - must be based on the knowledge gained from a combination of independent observation, analysis, and reason perhaps shaped to some degree by our traditions, established beliefs, and feelings.  We may honorably and responsibly allow the latter three forces to influence implementation of our moral/social and political choices and decisions, but if we are to make progress over the long run, the decisions themselves must be grounded firmly in knowledge from observation of the facts, independent analysis of relevant factors, and careful reasoning about them.


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