Thoughts on the Matrix

So I have seen Matrix one and three about three or four times each, but I only had seen the second movie when it came. I was pretty surprised when I watched it again. The scene with Neo and the architect is really important for understanding the plot and putting together exactly what is going on. One interesting thing that struck me on the second watch was that in some sense, Neo had become a computer program. Indeed, most of the characters in the movies are programs, just think about the agents, the Architect, the Oracle, and Smith. While Neo remains human there is a real sense in which he is part machine program, which is pretty weird to think about.

The other interesting aspect of the second movie was Neo’s decision to save Trinity instead of humanity. In it crazy to think that Neo would have forsaken humanity in some vain attempt to save himself and Trinity. However, the movie obviously couldn’t progress that way. However, from Neo’s point of view and with Neo’s knowledge the choice is incredibly selfish and a bit out of place.

One last thing to think about is the end game to the matrix trilogy. It ends with a peace between the humans and machines such that all those wanting to get unplugged from the matrix could leave. This implies that there will still be humans mined out as energy for the machines. Is this an equilibrium outcome that the humans are willing to live with? It seems not, if we understand the premise of the first movie, in which to goal of the pirates, or freed humans is to bring down the matrix and eventually free all the minds.

An excerpt from my thesis, enjoy:

Epilogue

I began this project not really knowing where I headed. I had always enjoyed reading Nietzsche, and after discovering and reading Kaufmann’s original works I knew that I had the perfect opportunity to incorporate two great philosophers into a single project in writing this thesis. In some ways the progress of the paper follows the same progress in my thinking about these two philosophers. I began with Nietzsche, moved on to Kaufmann, and then was left thinking about the way the two relate to one another. One thing that I remember from reading through Kaufmann the first time was my reaction that Kaufmann is really similar to Nietzsche, and was in some ways expanding on Nietzsche’s philosophic task. In several places within his works Kaufmann seeks to emphasize that there is a real divergence between his own views and Nietzsche’s, and that Kaufmann thought Nietzsche was wrong about certain issues. I never really gave this too much thought until grappling with both philosophers systems of value.

Indeed an ephemeral look at Kaufmann will leave one thinking that he adopts many of Nietzsche’s positions. A more thorough look will highlight the differences between Kaufmann and Nietzsche and perhaps leave one thinking that Kaufmann progresses over Nietzsche’s conception. Finally it is only upon reflection and thoughtful philosophic digestion that one can see that in the end Kaufmann was right when he said that he thought Nietzsche was wrong in certain aspects of his philosophy. Indeed there are points where Kaufmann adopts Nietzsche’s position, and others where Kaufmann progresses beyond Nietzsche’s conception. However, there also seem to be irreconcilable differences between the two philosophers. Through recognizing and understanding these differences we are able to more fully appreciate the significance of both philosophers.

Perhaps one of the most eye-opening experiences of writing this thesis was my discovery of the gap in the secondary literature about Kaufmann. Indeed it seems that Kaufmann has been recognized and lives on in the scholarly community as the translator of Nietzsche, who helped rehabilitate his reputation and generate serious discussion and reflection on his ideas. The extent to which Kaufmann presents a biased or unrepresentative or perhaps too reconciliatory view of Nietzsche may be the subject of ongoing debate, but surely his role and contribution to Nietzsche scholarship is unsurpassed. But even beyond Kaufmann the faithful translator of Nietzsche is Kaufmann the philosopher. It is this Kaufmann who remains in relative obscurity within the scholarly community and even in the philosophic community broadly speaking. This state of things is unfortunate because so much of Kaufmann’s philosophy has great import for modern man.

In philosophy we generally remember those philosophers who represent great paradigm shifts in thought, and who contribute in very unique ways to the philosophical discussion. In some ways this is easier to do at a distance. That is to look back and to analyze the path of thought, and to see where philosophers fit into the evolution of that tradition. Perhaps Kaufmann may be too close to our time to appreciate his own contributions to the philosophical discussion. Or perhaps Kaufmann is up to something more subtle. One thing seems clear between both Kaufmann and Nietzsche, through their philosophy they both seek to have an impact on the lives of others. Indeed, this is exactly the goal of both systems of value, to provide us with a way of viewing life which is affirmative and productive. In the end this must be the goal of all philosophical thought, to inform our actions and the way we choose to live our lives. “Man seems to play a very insignificant part in the universe, and my part is surely negligible. The question confronting me is not, except perhaps in idle moments, what part might be more amusing, but what I wish to make of my part. And what I want to do and would advise others to do is to make the most of it: put into it all you have got, and live and, if possible, die with some measure of nobility.”[1]

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[1] Walter Kaufmann, “The Faith of a Heretic”, Harper’s Magazine.

The Faith of a Heretic - Kaufmann

This is the last section of an article by Walter Kaufmann in Harpers magazine 1959. I think this really helps focus our own attention on thinking about our role in life and the way we should live. To read it in full check out: http://faculty.plts.edu/gpence/html/kaufmann.htm

No one way is the best way of life for all. To me the Apology of Socrates, as immortalized by Plato in less than thirty pages, presents a challenge from which I cannot, and have no wish to, get away. Here is part of Socrates' answer to the charges of impiety and corruption of the Athenian youth, on which he was convicted and put to death:

I am better off than he is--for he knows nothing but thinks he knows, while I neither know nor think I know. . . . If you say to me, . . . you shall be let off, but upon one condition, that you are not to inquire . . . in this way any more, and that if you are caught doing so again you shall die--if this was the condition on which you let me go, I should reply: . . . while I have life and strength I shall never cease from the practice and teaching of philosophy, exhorting anyone whom I meet. . . . Are you not ashamed of heaping up the greatest amount of money and honor and reputation, and caring so little about wisdom and truth? . . . 'The unexamined life is not worth living. . . . If you suppose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep like the sleep of him that is undisturbed even by dreams, death will be an unspeakable gain. Eternity is then only a single night.

It would be folly to wish to foist this outlook on everybody. Professors of philosophy discourage and fail a large percentage even of their graduate students and are assuredly not eager to turn all men into philosophers. In philosophy, as in religion, teaching usually involves a loss of dimension; and the Socratic fusion of philosophy and life, critical acumen and passion, laughter and tragic stature is almost unique.

One need not believe in Pallas Athena, the virgin goddess, to be overwhelmed by the Parthenon. Similarly, a man who rejects all dogmas, all theologies and all religious formulations of beliefs may still find Genesis the sublime book par excellence. Experiences and aspirations of which intimations may be found in Plato, Nietzsche, and Spinoza have found their most evocative expression in some sacred books. Since the Renaissance, Shakespeare, Rembrandt, Mozart, and a host of others have shown that this religious dimension can be experienced and communicated apart from any religious context. But that is no reason for closing my heart to Job's cry, or to Jeremiah's, or to the Second Isaiah. I do not read them as mere literature; rather, I read Sophocles and Shakespeare with all my being, too.

Moreover, I am so far quite unable to justify one of my central convictions: that, even if it were possible to make all men happy by an operation or a drug that would stultify their development, this would somehow be an impious crime. This conviction is ultimately rooted in the Mosaic challenge: "You shall be holy; for I the Lord your God am holy."

To communicate to others some feeling for man's religious quest, to arouse an aspiration in them which nothing but death can quell, and to develop their critical powers--that is infinitely more important to me than persuading anybody that Shakespeare was right when he wrote these lines:

The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples. the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

I do not believe in any afterlife any more than the prophets did, but I don't mind living in a world in which people have different beliefs. Diversity helps to prevent stagnation and smugness; and a teacher should acquaint his students with diversity and prize careful criticism far above agreement. His noblest duty is to lead others to think for themselves.

Oddly, millions believe that lack of belief in God, Christ, and Hell leads to inhumanity and cruelty, while those who have these beliefs have a monopoly on charity--and that people like myself will pay for their lack of belief by suffering in all eternity. I do not believe that anybody will suffer after death nor do I wish it.

Some scientists tell us that in our own galaxy alone there are probably hundreds of thousands of planets with living beings on them, more or less like those On the earth, and that there are about 100 million galaxies within the range of our telescopes. Man seems to play a very insignificant part in the universe, and my part is surely negligible. The question confronting me is not, except perhaps in idle moments, what part might be more amusing, but what I wish to make of my part. And what I want to do and would advise others to do is to make the most of it: put into it all you have got, and live and, if possible, die with some measure of nobility

The role of scale

One reaction that I found myself having to both Aristotle and Plato was “wow this sounds awesome, but it would only work on a small scale.” Both Aristotle and Plato give accounts of what it means to be a good citizen and participate in a community. Politics in their time and society probably had little resemblance to what the term means in our own. Taking an active role in one’s city-state or local political forum was relatively easy since there were a limited number of participants. Indeed, there were probably many people, but not everyone could participate in politics as seen in Plato’s treatment of women in the Symposium. The political landscape was more homogenous than it is today. It seems that it would be vastly easier then to create laws aimed at promoting good habit, and benefiting the people since there was little heterogeneity of interests and aims.

Fast forward to our own day, and the political landscape is very different from ancient times. There are many more people, both who are under a certain government and who can also actively participate in politics. The very nature of politics has also changed, no longer are the best educated, and prominent members of society the ones running the show, but often those who happen to get elected. – granted, many of these people are very affluent – In any case we certainly don’t view politics in the same light as the ancients, and there seems to be a real disconnect that arises primarily from magnitudes of scale. Aristotelian conceptions of good politics get muddled when there are many varying interests and sections of the population. Hence, certain philosophical conceptions seem to be susceptible to changes in the scale of implementation. This is interesting to consider in our own day, when forces like globalization and technological advances bring nations closer together, and integrate the world. Perhaps there will be a time in the future when our own political system and underlying philosophy will become too constrained by the scale of implementation.

Aristotle's view on healthcare

One interesting topic of discussion that arises in Aristotle’s Ethics and that has important implications in our own lives is the scope and role of the state. Book ten highlights this distinction with an interesting discussion about the role and aim of law. Aristotle points out a function of law that still exists today, namely law as a power to compel action. Indeed, this is an obvious way that law operates even today. It provides a certain set of incentives to coerce or compel certain responses in people. Hence, the law can provide negative incentives, or punishments, for certain actions that deter people from committing those actions, or it can provide positive incentives that reward people for certain actions. By using these rewards and punishments the law is able to manipulate people’s behavior.

This function of law is predicated on certain assumptions about the role of the state or government. That is, being able to pass and enforce laws which have the effect of changing people’s behavior carries an immense responsibility. This raises questions about how much power and scope of authority the state should have in passing law. This is born out in our own time by the recent healthcare debates. After the bill was passed, there were several law suits filed that alleged the bill to be unconstitutional, insofar as the government didn’t have the power to make people buy healthcare insurance. Here is one instance in which some have viewed the state overstepping its bounds in the extent to which it can control people’s actions. More broadly these debates and objections highlight a more fundamental issue about what the acceptable realm of government should be and the extent to which it should be able to coerce the actions of its people.

Aristotle’s own opinion may strike some as odd. Indeed, Aristotle views the state as having a very active role in shaping and structuring the actions of its people. Book ten shows that Aristotle viewed law as a way to regulate the upbringing and pursuits of the youth so that they might be habituated into good action. This is also born out by Aristotle’s view that the goal of politics is to make laws that are derived from practical wisdom and intelligence to shape the populace. Hence, government for Aristotle was a way of implementing his ethical view and encouraging and structuring the populace accordingly. Applying this logic to our own time we might conclude that the government has the right to force us to buy healthcare, since it is conducive to maintaining a standard of life which allows us to habituate good conduct and achieve the good.

Selection Bias

Another interesting economic conception that has interesting implications for philosophy is that of a selection bias in philosophy. Selection bias is usually something that is taken into account with experiments and considering whether a group that is used in an experiment is representative of the population more broadly. One way to apply this conception to philosophy is to think about what kinds of students choose to study philosophy. Are the students that take philosophy courses in college those that would most benefit from taking them? Maybe, insofar as philosophy students have an interest in the subject matter and may have read extensively in philosophy and can therefore have more fruitful and interesting reflections.

However, in another way this may not be the case, specifically as regards ethical and moral considerations. Here we can think of Aristotle’s conception of virtue and proper conduct etc. Are philosophy students those who would most benefit from discussing Aristotle? Perhaps not, if we think about the way in which a knowledge and serious thought on Aristotle would be conducive to real-world conduct. In part this depends on what philosophy students end up doing with their life, namely whether they are in a position professionally to make important ethical or moral considerations. If we assume that these students end up becoming professional philosophers there seems to be a more limited scope for making such decisions. There seems to be more room for such decisions in a profession like business where there are lots of interactions and potential for moral or ethical dilemmas. Here I would argue that business majors and perhaps science majors also would benefit more from reading and thinking about Aristotle than would philosophy majors, at least at the margin. Hence it seems like there is a selection bias of sorts in philosophy.

I think this consideration can also apply to many other areas of study and majors. If you assume that there are diminishing returns to studying one area, then it seems that this same consideration might apply across the board. Hence, philosophy majors might gain enormously from taking a business or science class in the same way that they might gain from taking a philosophy class. This gives rise to interesting considerations about what classes we take in college, and achieving an optimal mixture that maximizes the benefit of our college experience.

The Opportunity Cost of Philosophy

I have been thinking recently about economics and the way it relates to philosophy. One interesting conception that has interesting implications in the philosophical realm is that of opportunity costs. In economics an opportunity cost is a cost that arises from the existence of mutually exclusive choices. That is, suppose that you have two choices, either work at a job or think philosophically at home. If you choose to sit at home and think philosophically, there exists a cost to this choice, viz. the wages that you could have earned if you went to work instead. Since you cannot do both, you have to choose between the options and incur the cost of the next best available choice.

This is interesting when you look at philosophy more broadly and its practice or lack thereof in our own day. To practice philosophy requires leisure, or at least time to think, read, reflect, etc. – To some extent I am supposing that you cannot think philosophically while you work or do other things – Having this time to practice philosophy requires you to forgo other activities and opportunities which constitute an opportunity cost to the practice of philosophy. In modern times it seems that the other possible choices that we face when deciding what to do with our time have grown enormously. That is, historically when we were not working we had a more limited choice set. This would imply that there was less of an opportunity cost to practicing philosophy. Today the choices facing us have changed, we can watch tv, go to a movie, shop, and do any number of other things with our leisure time. These various options provide a wider array of costs to practicing philosophy than has existed before. Given the higher opportunity costs it is not surprising that we see fewer individuals practicing philosophy in modernity.

Another application is the opportunity cost of work compared to philosophy. It seems in modern times we have become more productive as workers. That is, we earn higher wages, especially if we are educated – the educated are the ones most likely to practice philosophy. Stated negatively this means that leisure time or the time required to practice philosophy has become more costly. Given the rise in earnings and productivity it is not surprising that we might see the practice of philosophy decline since there seems to be larger costs associated with its practice.

Books are Good

One interesting observation that I have made over the course of my time at Baylor, is the extent to which being well read is becoming less and less valued. What is being well read? It is not necessarily reading extensively, nor being up to date on all the New York Times Best-Sellers. More nearly, it is having read the classics – not only fiction, but classic philosophy, mythology, important scientific works, etc. Why would anyone want to be well read? Well it seems to me that there are all kinds of references that are thrown around everyday that are throwbacks to these classics. Having read these texts allows us to better appreciate conversation and references in everyday reading.

A much more important point and a better reason to be well read is the extent to which these classics tell us something about ourselves and human nature. After all that is really why these books are interesting and why we should want to invest so much time in reading them. In the end they are useful to us, not simply to help us make witticisms that go over most people’s heads, or to make ourselves sound more intelligent than we are, but more nearly as being informative and thought provoking. In reading these texts we see ourselves reflected back, and can identify with them. I am always amazed when I go to the bookstore at the end of the semester to sell back a few books, and see people returning classics. Granted, they may have other copies of their own but I take it most are simply returning the only copy they have ever, or will ever own - and for what? A few bucks to buy a sandwich or beer? What a waste! It’s one thing to sell back an expensive text book that will probably be obsolete in another year, but it is quite another to sell back something that is worth infinitely more than the bookstore is willing to give you for it. I don’t think people realize the true value of what they are often forced into buying by their professors of that elective class they had to take for some reason as part of their graduation requirements. Indeed, as that old adage goes, “you can’t judge a book by its cover”, but perhaps you can judge a person by the books they have in their library, if they have one at all…

Heresy among the ancients

For the majority of the past week I have been working on my senior thesis which deals with Nietzsche and Walter Kaufmann. While doing a bit of research I actually stumbled across a discussion of many of the ancient thinkers that we have covered heretofore in class. Kaufmann’s discussion is interesting insofar is it highlights an aspect of ancient thinking that perhaps has been glossed over, and which offers a unique characterization of what it means to do philosophy. Kaufmann’s contention is that these ancient thinkers were heretics. That is, their thinking “not only opposed the common sense of their time and some of the most revered names of the past but they did not presume to speak in the name of the Lord or to interpret correctly a previously misunderstood tradition. They pitted their own thinking against the religion and the poetry they knew. And by breaking the exegetic mode of thought and every other form of appeal to authority, they initiated philosophy.” The radical departure from the past that each of the ancient thinkers presents is in a sense very refreshing. It is extraordinarily unique and perhaps not the same kind of philosophy that is done today. In the case of the Milesians, how easy would it have been to reinterpret Thales, or Anaximander, in order to make Anaximenes point, rather than saying, “No, the arche is not water, but x substance.”

The point at issue is the extent to which each philosopher saw himself as breaking from tradition and contemporary thinking. It seems too often we revere tradition or authority to the extent that we see our ideas not in their own terms, but in terms of the tradition. We are afraid to break with established claims and hence hedge our ideas on reinterpretation or exegetical philosophizing. True philosophy begins when we can clearly state our ideas, differentiate ourselves from tradition, and not second guess ourselves when we find that we are in opposition to tradition or contemporary authority. To do philosophy, we cannot be unsettled to find that we are heretics.

Courage and Conviction

Another topic that is linked to the disparity between Roochnik and Curd is the broader implications for the selection of any text book for any class. It seems that most any text book, given certain subject matter, presents information from the standpoint of the author. While some take greater care than others to present an unbiased or objective position, to some extent it seems inevitable that the author’s opinion is represented in the material.

This bias seems to depend extensively on the material. In mathematics, it is harder, or perhaps impossible to present a biased or non-objective take on a proof or some concept. It is inherently checkable and objectively right or wrong. This seems to also be the case for many sciences. However, there definitely are subjective judgments within these fields. For example in physics, there is some debate about the viability of string theory or a theory of everything, as has been proposed. It seems possible that an author could promote either position based on their subjective opinion. However, even here there is some standard, be it internal coherence, predictive power, or scientific rigor, etc. This kind of objectivity is not available in much of the humanities, philosophy included. Here there can be several viable interpretations, outlooks, etc. for historical philosophical thought. As is the case with Roochnik, we can view ancient philosophy as a dialectical progression, or perhaps simply as a series of unrelated, or non-progressive thinkers.

Given this variability, it seems absolutely necessary that any student or reader approach every text critically and cautiously, especially when first being exposed to the material. Indeed, it is easy to read Roochnik’s interpretation and then read the fragments and find his interpretation. It is another to read the fragments and original material, collect one’s own opinions and then temper those against Roochnik’s.

This critical approach seems to be necessary in many other fields, not simply philosophy. In Economics for example, there are countless “summarizations” and “formulations” of the thought of Keynes, Adam Smith, or even Marx. In each, there seems to be a bias that skews the original material, whether to fit certain circumstances or the authors own opinion. In either case, the original material is important because it allows us to explore what was actually said, rather than what someone tells us was said.

It is interesting to think about the way we have been exposed to ideas, particularly new ideas with which we are novices. Usually we rely on someone, whether a professor, teacher, or author who has more experience in the given field, to guide our exploration of the material. It is important to realize that these people have their own incentives, opinions, and interpretations vis-à-vis what they are presenting, and that we should have the intellectual courage to branch out on our own, read the original material, and not be afraid to formulate an interpretation at odds with what we have been exposed to.

Roochnik's Dangerous Idea

So it has been about a month, and I suppose it’s time for another post, or two. For some time I have been intrigued by the selection of text books for our ancient philosophy class, that is the two main texts, Curd and Roochnik. These are very different from one another and their disparity brings up two interesting topics.

The first is the extent to which Roochnik is presenting an implicit view of the ancients that is smuggled in by the way he organizes his presentation of the material. So far as we have read, Roochnik is viewing the ancients as a linear progression of thought that builds and progresses based on the thinking of each subsequent philosopher. This is apparent in his transitions between philosophers and the framing that he offers between their thought. Not only does he link between the Milesians, which is perhaps less tenuous, but also between completely disparate thinkers including Hesiod and Thales, Heraclitus and Parmenides, etc. This methodology contains implicit assumptions which Roochnik fails to address and in some ways biases his presentation for those who fail to read cautiously.

First, this assumes that indeed there is some progress to the history of ancient philosophical thought. This claim is addressed briefly by Roochnik in his introduction. He claims that he is presenting the material in a chronological and dialectical fashion. Here the dialectical refers to a conversation which describes the evolution of ancient thought. It is this dialectical process which suggests progress though history. Roochnik’s claim seems to rely on the assumption that there was indeed contact between thinkers in antiquity and that they were able to understand their predecessors. While this assumption seems probable in certain cases, i.e. the Milesians, it seems untenable in others, viz. between Heraclitus and Parmenides. Since Roochnik does not offer any real evidence for the transmission of thought among these philosophers, and given the relative timetable of some thinkers, it seems very probable that the dialectical process or conversation between philosophers described by Roochnik breaks down.

Another point of contention is the notion of progress though history. It seems only fitting to refer to Nietzsche and this point. “That the great moments in the struggle of individuals form a chain, that in them the high points of humanity are linked throughout millennia, that which is highest in such a moment of the distant past be for me still alive, bright and great – this is the fundamental thought of the faith of humanity which is expressed in the demand for monumental history.” While it is possible to view history as progressive, indeed there are certain elements of this illustrated in the Milesians, a more compelling overarching view seems to me, to be that presented by Nietzsche. “No, the goal of humanity cannot lie at the end but only in its highest specimens.”

Second, viewing the history of ancient philosophical thought as a progression, corners one’s interpretations within a dogmatic framework. That is, in order to tell a compelling story of the progression of ancient thought, Roochnik must commit himself to certain interpretations of each philosophers thought. In this case, Roochnik is making his reading of a philosopher fit his system or overarching goal of the progress in ancient thought. This seems dishonest since Roochnik is not necessarily presenting the most compelling, reasoned, or accurate reading, but merely one which “fits the story”.

It is very interesting the extent to which MLK’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail still resonates with us today. Indeed, the subject matter of the letter is very timely, since its main thrust is concerned with segregation within Birmingham and the South in general which, arguably doesn’t exist today, or at least not in the same form as in the 1960’s. Given the timely nature of the letter and the discussion it would seem easy for us to pass over it or forget its contents like so many other historical events. Yet, there is a reason why we are attracted to reading it, not just as an annual gesture on MLK day, but more broadly in a serious and interested manner. The fact that we can return to the letter and read it seriously points to the timeless nature of the letter and its contents. This is most poignantly illustrated by the content of the letter. While on face it seems as though MLK’s goal is narrowly tailored to address the reservations and objections of several local pastors and reverends, this cannot possibly the real goal of the letter. Indeed, MLK certainly is not naïve enough to believe that he will erase the entrenched prejudice of an entire region by writing a simple letter. Rather what lies at the heart of MLK’s Letter from Birmingham Jail is a challenge, both to those specifically named in the letter and to a much broader audience. The best way to flush this point out is by examining MLK’s point about Socrates and instigating tension. We may ask ourselves, why is Socrates so famous? After all, what did he really do? Indeed, Socrates is known not for giving man some kind of absolute truth, or ready knowledge or something of the sort. Socrates did not go around Athens merely informing people of something that he had discovered. Rather, Socrates is famous simply for challenging people and their thinking. In this manner he was the gadfly on the neck of Athens. Asking people about their views and conceptions of all kinds of things like justice, love, etc. At the end of the elenchus, there wasn’t a realization of a correct view, or even a consensus about what was the correct answer to the original question. There was instead no one answer, and in its place perplexity and intellectual curiosity. Herein lies the real genius of Socrates, for his real feat was to stimulate the intellect and challenge the thinking of all those he came across. Herein also lays the heart of MLK’s Letter from Birmingham Jail. Like Socrates before him, MLK is issuing a challenge to contemporary and entrenched view about segregation and racial inequality. MLK asks us to think about justice, law, and its application with regard to race. Ultimately, presenting one view allows one to object to and then forget the point, but challenging our intellectual curiosity and views about the world is the real key for bringing about change in the world.