What's in a name?

 

In the wise city of Christchurch, there is a library named Tūranga. A simple but elegant name, with a connection to local heritage. It means "stopping place". Recently, I encountered a lively debate about the building's name. Some people argued that the word "library" must be included so that everyone would know the building's function. Others argued that the name is fine as it is. In my usual manner, I joined the conversation and offered these words:
----

Tell me, friends: when you enter a building filled with books, with people reading, learning, gathering—do you know it is a library only if the word “library” is printed on the wall?

And if a place calls itself by another name—say, Tūranga—yet offers all the treasures of a library, have you been deceived? Or have you simply encountered a name that carries history, spirit, and meaning unfamiliar to you?

I wonder: should every place declare its purpose in plain English? Must every restaurant be called “restaurant,” every museum “museum”? Is The Smithsonian not a museum because the word is missing?

Perhaps we are asking the wrong question. Not “Does it say ‘library’?” but “Does it act as one?” Not “Is the name familiar to me?” but “Am I willing to learn what it means to others?”

There are many ways to name a place. But there is only one way to close our minds—by refusing to ask.

Calm in doing less

 

image generated by DALL·E

The pressures of life can be overwhelming, and often lead to stress and anxiety. But where do these pressures come from? Could it be that we create them ourselves?

We try to squeeze so much into our days. We work hard, take on new hobbies, and feel compelled to say “yes” whenever someone asks us for help. It’s not surprising that we feel stretched and stressed. We don’t even have time to ask ourselves, “does all this activity truly make me happy?”

So, what is the solution? Could it be that by doing less, we gain more—not in quantity, but in clarity and peace? Perhaps we should focus only on what truly matters, and set the rest aside. This may help reduce pressure while also giving us space to do the important things better.

If doing less leads to happiness, why do we ignore this wisdom?

The Problem with Knowledge

 

The problem with our beliefs is that they’re often false. We assume we know many things, but upon closer examination, we find that our knowledge is riddled with errors and misconceptions. We go about our lives, confidently asserting truths, only to be confronted with evidence that contradicts our most cherished convictions.

Consider, for example, the beliefs we hold about justice, virtue, or the good life. Are these beliefs truly grounded in knowledge, or do they simply reflect the opinions we’ve absorbed from others? We may believe ourselves to be just, virtuous, or wise, but how often do we question the foundation of these beliefs? How often do we scrutinize them to see if they withstand the test of reason?

Let us examine a particular belief, and we shall see how easily it crumbles under the weight of inquiry. Suppose one believes that justice is the interest of the stronger, as some have claimed. But upon reflection, does this belief hold up? Does might truly make right, or is justice something more? The belief, once held with certainty, now wavers as we recognize the complexity of the concept and the inadequacy of our understanding.

This, my friends, is the danger of unexamined beliefs. We live by them, yet they may be false, leading us astray in our pursuit of truth. It is only through constant questioning, through the dialectical method, that we can approach the truth and expose the falsehoods lurking in our beliefs.

And here lies the crux of the matter: because my beliefs are often false, they cannot be counted as knowledge. And because I don’t know which of my beliefs are true, I cannot even consider those as knowledge. In fact, the only belief I know to be true is my belief that I know nothing.

Is it wise to argue with experts?

 

In recent years, I've noticed a growing tendency for people to argue with experts on topics they know little about. Is this wise? Undoubtedly, asking questions is a good thing. A well-constructed question can lead to a clearer explanation. Sometimes, a very well-constructed question may lead an expert to recognize an error in their own reasoning. But, does the asking of such questions make one an expert? I don't think so. Without expertise, one must provisionally accept the answers given by experts. Why? Because, one cannot tell whether or not the expert is correct without holding equivalent expert knowledge. So, I recommend asking questions that clarify assumptions, evidence, and implications. But let's not argue about matters beyond our own expertise.

Misinformation - knowing that we don't know

 

I have always been somewhat suspicious of the written word. Not so much because of the information conveyed by writing, but because of how it can be misused. For one, it can, in some ways, imprison knowledge. The information is there, but cannot be directly questioned. You may have some expertise in the subject and know that the words presented contain false information. But you cannot debate it. You cannot dialogue with it. You cannot help improve it. The words remain there, locked in place, impervious to criticism.

The other reason the written word causes concern is the way it can be misused. People read snippets of information such as misleading headlines, opinion pieces, or conclusions taken out of context, and then think they have knowledge. However, if they have no prior expertise in the subject, they cannot assess whether or not the information they are reading is reliable. Don’t we see this all the time on the internet? People with no specialist knowledge will read an article that concludes something they don’t like, then dismiss it. They will then engage in an extensive search for articles that contain conclusions they do like. And they will share the information contained in those articles, as if they, themselves, have expertise. This can be harmless in cases of personal taste preference. But in the domain of science and medicine, this can be damaging, and perhaps even lead to life-threatening decisions.

So, what is real wisdom? Is it skimming articles and cherry-picking favorable conclusions, and then masquerading as an expert? Or perhaps the wisest of us are the ones who comfortably admit the limitations of their knowledge.

Winning at life

 My friends, have you noticed how often we hear people talking of ‘winners’ and ‘losers’ in life? It seems that many people consider life to be a game that can be won or lost. And when someone ‘wins’, we often deem that win to be well deserved. For example, people may say that the rich deserve their wealth. And I suppose people may also claim that the poor deserve their place in life.

But is this true? Can you win and lose at life? Is life akin to a game? In ancient Greece, people didn’t speak that way. If someone was poor, people wouldn’t think of them as losing at life. Instead they would suggest that the will of Tyche, the god of fortune, had not been working in their favor. The Romans also had a god of fortune. Her name was Fortuna. She was depicted as holding a tiller by which she could shift one’s fortune. Because her actions were totally out of our control, people would suggest that the poor were ‘unfortunate’ rather than losers at life.

Perhaps people who consider life a game will find this a strange way of talking. But it does depend upon what sort of game they consider life to be. Is it a game with well defined rules in which a person can win or lose by using their skill and intellect? Is life, for example, like a game of chess? If so, it may make sense to speak of winners and losers. After all, we wouldn’t hesitate to say that the winner of a chess game deserves their win. To win they must have played better than their opponent. And, of course, we presume that they started the game with an equal number of pieces, and that they both played by the same rules.

Would we use the same language to describe someone winning at a game of chance — for example, a slot machine or lottery? Would we suggest that someone who wins the lottery deserves the win? I don’t even think the word ‘win’ in games of chance means quite the same thing as it does in a game of chess. There is no skill involved in a game of chance. The outcome is totally in the hands of fortuna. I wonder if life is more like this than we care to believe.

Of course, we do need certain skills in life. But much of what happens in life is well beyond our control — including our position at birth. Is it not true that fortuna decides who is wealthy and who is poor at birth? And is it not true that this starting position can have a massive impact on a person’s life? If so, it would seem incorrect to suggest that a poor person is losing at life and deserve their position (if by ‘losing’ we mean in the sense of a game of chess rather than a game of chance).

I am interested in what would happen in society if we shifted our language. Rather than speaking of winners and losers in life, shall we instead speak of those who are fortunate and those who are less fortunate. Seeing things in this way may prompt those who are fortunate to help the unfortunate more so than if they truly think they deserve to be ‘winning’ at life.

- Socrates (21c)

Measure one's worth

 

We crave the approval of others. This seems to be part of the human condition. Everyone wants to be liked, and what better signs of approval are there than applause, trophies, and certificates? We finish our performance and glow as the crowd claps their hands. We adorn our shelves with our hard-won trophies and decorate our walls with certificates that prove our worthiness. All symbols of approval.

But after the crowd leaves the auditorium, their applause is nothing but a memory—an echo lost in time. Our certificates fade in the sun, slowly degrading to nothing. And our trophies tarnish as the years pass.

What does this tell us? Should we conclude that the approval of others is not worth seeking? Not at all. We need social relationships, and approval is better than disapproval or mere indifference. But we should put things in perspective. Aim to be the best person you can be, regardless of awards or applause. External validation does not last, and a life pursuing them for their own sake will never bring contentment. After all, there's always another certificate to be hung on the wall, and we may ask how many are required for fulfillment. Do they really matter?

Perhaps we should remind ourselves that happiness can be found in our actions rather than pieces of paper.

Care for the soul

 

My friend, have you noticed how much care we take when walking? Rightly so! After all, a foot, though small, carries us through the world. So, we avoid stepping on nails, and we walk around mud puddles. We protect this valuable possession. Yet, when it comes to the soul (or character), are we not just as vulnerable to missteps?

Is it not true, my friend, that as we walk through life, we risk stepping into superstitions, or tripping on fears that lie hidden in our path? Biases can cling to us like mud. Xenophobia, prejudice, and greed lurk around every corner, ready to damage our character, turning us into the very monsters we despise.

Insofar as it makes sense to watch our steps to avoid damaging our feet, should we not also tread carefully with our souls? Let us examine the paths we walk in life, the beliefs we hold, and the words we speak. For the unexamined life is not worth living. But the examined life can improve the worthiness of our character, and this can lead to a more just world.

- S

Your Call to Adventure

Living is rough, like traveling across the sea. One minute all is calm, but then the storm sets in, and we get thrown about as the waves force us dangerously close to the jagged rocks of the shoreline.

How can we cope with the ups and downs of life? Should we hide? Should we avoid challenges? Some of the best stories involve heroes who accept the call to adventure. They don't hide. They assess the risks and take on the challenges of life. We can do this too. If we keep a steady mind, develop a strong sense of self, and build inner peace, we can become the adventurers in our own story.

Accept the call to adventure. Be your own hero.

Live as if your life is a gift

Imagine that you died this morning. All has come to an end. No more music; no more friendship or love; no more thought. It is gone. 

But, now imagine that by some miracle you are granted bonus time. You have your life back. How will you live it now? By arguing with strangers online? By spending countless hours at a job you don’t like? By obsessing over the accumulation of wealth? 

Perhaps a second chance would shift your focus to other priorities. Think about what they might be and live your life well.