08 December 2016
Getting Wiser
By Chin Chin
René Descartes, the 17th century mathematician, philosopher and general wise-cracker, put his most memorable sayings in Latin. The words “Cogito, ergo sum” have been etched into the memories of every generation of schoolboys, the classical language adding further weight to an already profound message. “I think, therefore I am”, or its French equivalent, would not have sounded half as good.
Still, Descartes must have used French too, so it is hard to know whether his aphorism on common sense was written in Latin or in the vernacular. I will use this uncertainty as my excuse for giving you an English translation:
“Common sense is the most fairly distributed thing in the world, for each one thinks he is so well-endowed with it that even those who are hardest to satisfy in all other matters are not in the habit of desiring more of it than they already have.”
That may well have been true in France, a country with high respect for academic opinions. After all, at the risk of trying a little 17th century philosophy for ourselves, we could prove the point with the following dialogue:
Interviewer; “How do you rate your own opinions?”
17th century Frenchman: “As a matter of fact I always agree with them.”
Interviewer: “ So you must think they are all correct?”
Frenchman: “Indeed. I was lucky enough to be born rather wise.”
One can see how Cartesian logic has strengthened the assurance and self-confidence of the French race. In England, however, it is different because we focus more on the practical and less on the academic.
Interviewer: “You seem to have made rather a mess of things. ”
Englishman: “Yes, I have made a regular hash of it.”
Interviewer : “Any idea why it went so wrong?”
Englishman: “Yes, I am a complete idiot.”
The emphasis is slightly different, so it is perhaps no surprise that in England, at least, we would all like a little more wisdom if we could have it. The question is how it can be obtained.
Solomon, of course, simply asked the Lord. “A little more wisdom please” he prayed and, within minutes, he was wise as could be, awarding babies to the right mother as though there was no tomorrow. We could try that method (the prayers not the babies) but you can’t help feeling that actually Solomon was fairly well advanced in wisdom before he made his request. After all, he could have gone for money or for power or for all sorts of other exciting things, but he didn’t. He knew better than that. He was already fairly wise. Viewed objectively his request was really to be upgraded from a bachelors in wisdom to a Phd in the subject.
For those of us who start from a more modest base, it is harder. However, help is at hand. I was listening to the radio the other day and practical tips on enhancing wisdom were being dispensed. The theory was that you should make your decisions more dispassionate by always approaching them from the position of a neutral observer. No, that is not a branch of the theory of relativity. It just means looking at things as if you were not yourself involved –treating yourself as a third person, so to speak.
Actually, most of us have some experience of this from our teenage years.
“A friend of mine has contracted an unpleasant infection” you might say to the doctor you meet at a drinks party. “Do you think it sounds serious?” Both you and the doctor know that the use of the third person is just a device to allow an awkward subject to be discussed dispassionately. “A good mate of mine” bears quite a different meaning in that sort of conversation.
Still, habitually thinking of oneself in the third person when making day-to-day decisions carries a clear risk. Before long you could begin to refer to yourself in the third person when talking to others. At the very least this could cause confusion.
“Would you like an ice cream?”
“He would”
“Would what?
“Like an ice cream”
“Who would?”
“Chin Chin”
“That’s you”
“He is”
“Have you gone mad or are you just a pompous idiot?”
It would be worse of course if you were royal. By tradition, kings and queens refer to themselves in the plural. That in itself cannot be easy .
“We will have a steak for dinner” must be confusing for courtiers who are new to the job.
“Indeed, your Majesty, I think we could arrange one steak for each if you will tell me who will eat the other one.”
Now try mixing that with a third person and the language becomes still less penetrable:
“Let them eat cake”
“Who says that?”
“They do”
“Well they would, wouldn’t they?”
It isn’t very likely that I will be offered a throne in the near future but, for all that, I think I will stick to the first person and risk losing the opportunity of becoming wise.
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