Is Electricity Fire?
In the early fifties I suffered temporarily from a disease of middle age: I used to give philosophical talks about science--how science satisfies
curiosity, how it gives you a new world view, how it gives man the ability to do things, how it gives him power--and the question is, in view of the
recent development of the atomic bomb, is it a good idea to give man that much power? I also thought about the relation of science and religion, and
it was about this time when I was invited to a conference in New York that was going to discuss "the ethics of equality."
There had already been a conference among the older people, somewhere on Long Island, and this year they decided to have some younger
people come in and discuss the position papers they had worked out in the other conference.
Before I got there, they sent around a list of "books you might find interesting to read, and please send us any books you want others to read, and
we will store them in the library so that others may read them."
So here comes this wonderful list of books. I start down the first page: I haven't read a single one of the books, and I feel very uneasy--I hardly
belong. I look at the second page: I haven't read a single one. I found out, after looking through the whole list, that I haven't read
any
of the books. I
must be an idiot, an illiterate! There were wonderful books there, like Thomas Jefferson
On Freedom
, or something like that, and there were a few
authors
I had read. There was a book by Heisenberg, one by Schrodinger, and one by Einstein, but they were something like Einstein,
My Later
Years
and Schrodinger,
What Is Life
--different from what I had read. So I had a feeling that I was out of my depth, and that I shouldn't be
in
this.
Maybe I could just sit quietly and listen.
I go to the first big introductory meeting, and a guy gets up and explains that we have two problems to discuss. The first one is fogged up a little
bit--something about ethics and equality, but I don't understand what the problem
exactly
is. And the second one is, "We are going to demonstrate by
our efforts a way that we can have a dialogue among people of different fields." There was an international lawyer, a historian, a Jesuit priest, a rabbi,
a scientist (me), and so on.
Well, right away my logical mind goes like this: The second problem I don't have to pay any attention to, because if it works, it works; and if it
doesn't work, it doesn't work-- we don't have to prove that we can have a dialogue, and
discuss
that we can have a dialogue, if we haven't got any
dialogue to talk about! So the primary problem is the first one, which I didn't understand.
I was ready to put my hand up and say, "Would you please define the problem better," but then I thought, "No,
I'm
the ignoramus; I'd better
listen. I don't want to start trouble right away."
The subgroup I was in was supposed to discuss the "ethics of equality in education." In the meetings of our subgroup the Jesuit priest was always
talking about "the fragmentation of knowledge." He would say, "The real problem in the ethics of equality in education is the fragmentation of
knowledge." This Jesuit was looking back into the thirteenth century when the Catholic Church was in charge of all education, and the whole world
was simple. There was God, and everything came from God; it was all organized. But today, it's not so easy to understand everything. So knowledge
has become fragmented. I felt that "the fragmentation of knowledge" had nothing to do with "it," but "it" had never been defined, so there was no
way for me to prove that.
Finally I said, "What is the ethical problem associated with the fragmentation of knowledge?" He would only answer me with great clouds of fog,
and I'd say, "I don't understand," and everybody else would say they
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