Thomas Hurka is a professor of philosophy working at the University of Toronto, Canada. He is widely published. Professor Hurka deals with what he sees as the futility of competing for goods, and instead urges us to compete in things of real value: discovery and creativity.
Dialogue
RLF: You have said that, ‘in our societies people compete primarily for material goods, which have no intrinsic worth. Without inequality—and without the false values it engenders—they could compete instead in excellence. They could strive to outdo each other in knowledge, discovery, or creative expression. Then their competitiveness, instead of hindering perfection, could spur them on. This is a further argument for distributive equality: By encouraging human competitiveness to aim at true goods, it makes an unattractive trait serve valuable ends.’
Do you really think it is realistic to believe that people will ever compete in excellence, and if they were to, what form would that excellence take? – excellence in what?
TH: To answer that question – your first one, it is surely necessary to look at the way people live their lives now, at this particular point in time. Once we have done that, you may ask your question again, and you may add to it whether you believe in what I do.
RLF: Fair enough, let us make a start; it is true that people compete primarily for material goods, I may say, material wealth. How is that at fault?
TH: Well, before I go on to say how it is at fault, I may first ask you to look where it has led us. Are not the world’s natural resources being used to choke us to death, poison the air we breathe and the water we drink; is not catastrophic climate change a direct consequence of this incessant competition for material well being?
RLF: I must admit that it is, but there are levels of material well being that are vital if a reasonable life is to be lived. Will you agree to that?
TH: I will indeed. We are not able to survive in a wilderness without warmth, security and the basic necessities of life, but we have gone well beyond competing for what is necessary – we compete for goods that we are programmed to desire. In these latter stages of mercantilism, marketing has come to the fore, promoting what is said to be vital but which is nothing of the sort. The best hallmark of a necessity of anything is to look at who benefits the most from it being supplied: produced and sold.
RLF: I am willing to allow that we often do compete for things that are unworthy of our attention and our desire. Now I would like an answer to the second part of my question: if people were to compete in excellence, what form would that excellence take? – excellence in what?
TH: In the physical realm, it is already underway; sportsmen and sportswomen compete against each other in excellence of physique and athletic prowess, do they not? And people like mountaineers compete in the excellence of endurance and technique.
RLF: These are two good examples, but I feel that you mean more than this, more than sports and outdoor pursuits. You spoke of knowledge, discovery, or creative expression, did you not?
What of those qualities, and do we not already compete in some? Are not undergraduates competing against each other when they are sitting their final examinations at university?
TH: You are right, they are. However, if we speak of means and ends, we find that the examinations students sit and pass are means rather than ends – means to a good degree and hopefully to well paid, interesting employment.
RLF: And what is wrong with that?
TH: Nothing at all. Man must live, and to live, he must work, that is obviously true.
RLF: Then you mean, do you, that for any object of study to be worthy of us, and not engender false values, it must be an end in itself.
TH: Yes, I do.
RLF: But how can that be in a world that runs on knowledge – knowledge with some direction, some point?
TH: The gaining of knowledge must have some point, I entirely agree, but the point of knowledge is invariably the acquisition of wealth or power or both, and it is that aspect of gaining knowledge with which I take issue. Why must everything we do have a number put on it – a value in pound notes or dollars or yen – why?
RLF: Most probably for the very good reason that we have no other, at least, few other yardsticks against which to judge anything anyone achieves.
TH: That is certainly true. If it were not so, a book about children indulging in and getting mixed up with wizardry would have much, much less value than a book about the value of knowledge, wouldn’t it? Whereas the reality is that our book about young people learning magic sells like proverbial hot cakes, while the book that would help humanity infinitely further out of the impasse it now finds itself in lies unsold in wharehouses.
RLF: That is rather a simplistic example, if you don’t mind me saying so.
TH: It is and I apologize for it, but have I not made my point, albeit somewhat cheaply? The habit and activity involved in the acquisition of knowledge for its own sake is called a hobby or a pastime – rarely an activity by which a man can live,
RLF: I suppose that we must use a different word; instead of the word, ‘acquisition’, I mean.
TH: Then let us look at something like understanding rather than knowledge.
RLF: How would you differentiate the two?
TH: By saying that we can know something without understanding it – in fact, I would go so far as to say that we usually do not understand much that we know.
RLF: Can you provide examples of what you mean?
TH: Certainly. You know that when things get wet, they cool too, don’t you?
RLF: Of course.
TH: But do you understand why?
RLF: Is it something to do with evaporation – that heat is needed or lost or some such thing? Try me with another.
TH: Very well, why is the sea blue in places and steely grey in others?
RLF: That’s easy. It is that way because it is reflecting what is above it; a bright blue sky will produce a blue sea below it, whereas a grey sky will be reflected in a sea of that same colour.
TH: So you not only know that fact, but you understand it as well. Bravo! Can you see the difference in those two aspects of the same phenomenon – knowing and understanding?
RLF: Yes, I can, but where does that get us?
TH: It gets us further along the road to understanding. We use that understanding to extrapolate and forecast, predict and explain that which we may not in fact actually be aware of fully knowing.
Someone has asked how it is we can learn the grammar of a language with a paucity of information to assist us. I think I have just provided an answer, albeit a partial one. Notice though that in going some of the way to providing an answer, I have illustrated what can be done with even a little understanding.
At university, I was told by one of my professors that his job was not to relinquish facts – answers, if you will, but to facilitate the production of questions in students’ heads – that, he said, was his real function at the university.
Understanding is essentially a creative process, going from what we do know, and moving, by a series of logical steps, a little further across the stream of knowledge until we reach a point on the bank at which we can say, ‘I understand how that works!’ or something like it.
RLF: That is all fine and dandy, but we have few opportunities, most of us, for this. We cannot all be theoretical physicists, you know.
TH: I agree; we cannot. What we can do, however, is take an interest, an active interest in our children’s education, as well as in our own education, for education is something that is a lifelong process, or should be.
RLF: I see that you are being much more practical now; that in fact, most people do stop learning as early as possible. At least they cease to learn as a conscious process, beginning by saying something like this: ‘I would like to find out about X’. – where X is something more fundamental that merely the time of the next bus or the cost of soapflakes.
TH: Precisely put. We are all learning new things every minute of every day. It seems though, that we discard most of what we learn, or at any rate, we discard as much as we can. It is almost as if we do not wish to overload ourselves with too much intellectual baggage.
The human mind is a wonderful thing – it is able to hold information and compute it in convolutions that even the biggest, most powerful computer would baulk at. And yet, we are creatures of habit, only doing what we know, leaving off undone that which is less certain.
RLF: In that there is safety. We must protect ourselves from too much uncertainty.
TH: That may be more important, more relevant to what we are talking about than you think.
There is safety in numbers, is there not? I do not need you to answer, I am merely thinking aloud. There is safety in numbers, and in being conventional. The man who stands out as a scholar is most likely to be one who is scorned for his scholasticism, is he not?
RLF: He is. Such a one is usually marked out as being in want of common sense, and it is only the most enthusiastic who continues in his way of learning in the face of such ridicule.
RLF: Do you mean that humankind has a propensity to value ignorance rather than wisdom?
TH: I think we all pay lip service to praising the wise, while at the same time secretly shunning its products, yes.
We should use the road less traveled, as the poet urges us to, but I fear we invariably favour the road more well trodden to that other, more adventurous one.
I should like to continue this talk at some later date.
Robert L. Fielding
Dialogue
RLF: You have said that, ‘in our societies people compete primarily for material goods, which have no intrinsic worth. Without inequality—and without the false values it engenders—they could compete instead in excellence. They could strive to outdo each other in knowledge, discovery, or creative expression. Then their competitiveness, instead of hindering perfection, could spur them on. This is a further argument for distributive equality: By encouraging human competitiveness to aim at true goods, it makes an unattractive trait serve valuable ends.’
Do you really think it is realistic to believe that people will ever compete in excellence, and if they were to, what form would that excellence take? – excellence in what?
TH: To answer that question – your first one, it is surely necessary to look at the way people live their lives now, at this particular point in time. Once we have done that, you may ask your question again, and you may add to it whether you believe in what I do.
RLF: Fair enough, let us make a start; it is true that people compete primarily for material goods, I may say, material wealth. How is that at fault?
TH: Well, before I go on to say how it is at fault, I may first ask you to look where it has led us. Are not the world’s natural resources being used to choke us to death, poison the air we breathe and the water we drink; is not catastrophic climate change a direct consequence of this incessant competition for material well being?
RLF: I must admit that it is, but there are levels of material well being that are vital if a reasonable life is to be lived. Will you agree to that?
TH: I will indeed. We are not able to survive in a wilderness without warmth, security and the basic necessities of life, but we have gone well beyond competing for what is necessary – we compete for goods that we are programmed to desire. In these latter stages of mercantilism, marketing has come to the fore, promoting what is said to be vital but which is nothing of the sort. The best hallmark of a necessity of anything is to look at who benefits the most from it being supplied: produced and sold.
RLF: I am willing to allow that we often do compete for things that are unworthy of our attention and our desire. Now I would like an answer to the second part of my question: if people were to compete in excellence, what form would that excellence take? – excellence in what?
TH: In the physical realm, it is already underway; sportsmen and sportswomen compete against each other in excellence of physique and athletic prowess, do they not? And people like mountaineers compete in the excellence of endurance and technique.
RLF: These are two good examples, but I feel that you mean more than this, more than sports and outdoor pursuits. You spoke of knowledge, discovery, or creative expression, did you not?
What of those qualities, and do we not already compete in some? Are not undergraduates competing against each other when they are sitting their final examinations at university?
TH: You are right, they are. However, if we speak of means and ends, we find that the examinations students sit and pass are means rather than ends – means to a good degree and hopefully to well paid, interesting employment.
RLF: And what is wrong with that?
TH: Nothing at all. Man must live, and to live, he must work, that is obviously true.
RLF: Then you mean, do you, that for any object of study to be worthy of us, and not engender false values, it must be an end in itself.
TH: Yes, I do.
RLF: But how can that be in a world that runs on knowledge – knowledge with some direction, some point?
TH: The gaining of knowledge must have some point, I entirely agree, but the point of knowledge is invariably the acquisition of wealth or power or both, and it is that aspect of gaining knowledge with which I take issue. Why must everything we do have a number put on it – a value in pound notes or dollars or yen – why?
RLF: Most probably for the very good reason that we have no other, at least, few other yardsticks against which to judge anything anyone achieves.
TH: That is certainly true. If it were not so, a book about children indulging in and getting mixed up with wizardry would have much, much less value than a book about the value of knowledge, wouldn’t it? Whereas the reality is that our book about young people learning magic sells like proverbial hot cakes, while the book that would help humanity infinitely further out of the impasse it now finds itself in lies unsold in wharehouses.
RLF: That is rather a simplistic example, if you don’t mind me saying so.
TH: It is and I apologize for it, but have I not made my point, albeit somewhat cheaply? The habit and activity involved in the acquisition of knowledge for its own sake is called a hobby or a pastime – rarely an activity by which a man can live,
RLF: I suppose that we must use a different word; instead of the word, ‘acquisition’, I mean.
TH: Then let us look at something like understanding rather than knowledge.
RLF: How would you differentiate the two?
TH: By saying that we can know something without understanding it – in fact, I would go so far as to say that we usually do not understand much that we know.
RLF: Can you provide examples of what you mean?
TH: Certainly. You know that when things get wet, they cool too, don’t you?
RLF: Of course.
TH: But do you understand why?
RLF: Is it something to do with evaporation – that heat is needed or lost or some such thing? Try me with another.
TH: Very well, why is the sea blue in places and steely grey in others?
RLF: That’s easy. It is that way because it is reflecting what is above it; a bright blue sky will produce a blue sea below it, whereas a grey sky will be reflected in a sea of that same colour.
TH: So you not only know that fact, but you understand it as well. Bravo! Can you see the difference in those two aspects of the same phenomenon – knowing and understanding?
RLF: Yes, I can, but where does that get us?
TH: It gets us further along the road to understanding. We use that understanding to extrapolate and forecast, predict and explain that which we may not in fact actually be aware of fully knowing.
Someone has asked how it is we can learn the grammar of a language with a paucity of information to assist us. I think I have just provided an answer, albeit a partial one. Notice though that in going some of the way to providing an answer, I have illustrated what can be done with even a little understanding.
At university, I was told by one of my professors that his job was not to relinquish facts – answers, if you will, but to facilitate the production of questions in students’ heads – that, he said, was his real function at the university.
Understanding is essentially a creative process, going from what we do know, and moving, by a series of logical steps, a little further across the stream of knowledge until we reach a point on the bank at which we can say, ‘I understand how that works!’ or something like it.
RLF: That is all fine and dandy, but we have few opportunities, most of us, for this. We cannot all be theoretical physicists, you know.
TH: I agree; we cannot. What we can do, however, is take an interest, an active interest in our children’s education, as well as in our own education, for education is something that is a lifelong process, or should be.
RLF: I see that you are being much more practical now; that in fact, most people do stop learning as early as possible. At least they cease to learn as a conscious process, beginning by saying something like this: ‘I would like to find out about X’. – where X is something more fundamental that merely the time of the next bus or the cost of soapflakes.
TH: Precisely put. We are all learning new things every minute of every day. It seems though, that we discard most of what we learn, or at any rate, we discard as much as we can. It is almost as if we do not wish to overload ourselves with too much intellectual baggage.
The human mind is a wonderful thing – it is able to hold information and compute it in convolutions that even the biggest, most powerful computer would baulk at. And yet, we are creatures of habit, only doing what we know, leaving off undone that which is less certain.
RLF: In that there is safety. We must protect ourselves from too much uncertainty.
TH: That may be more important, more relevant to what we are talking about than you think.
There is safety in numbers, is there not? I do not need you to answer, I am merely thinking aloud. There is safety in numbers, and in being conventional. The man who stands out as a scholar is most likely to be one who is scorned for his scholasticism, is he not?
RLF: He is. Such a one is usually marked out as being in want of common sense, and it is only the most enthusiastic who continues in his way of learning in the face of such ridicule.
RLF: Do you mean that humankind has a propensity to value ignorance rather than wisdom?
TH: I think we all pay lip service to praising the wise, while at the same time secretly shunning its products, yes.
We should use the road less traveled, as the poet urges us to, but I fear we invariably favour the road more well trodden to that other, more adventurous one.
I should like to continue this talk at some later date.
Robert L. Fielding
Posted 22nd May in:
