At first a person is like a child in the womb, “living from hand to mouth”. They are warm and safe; they are blind grubs. It is easy to remain in the womb. It is soft. There is no need to think about what might be outside the womb. The children in the womb (it is a very large womb) squabble amongst themselves occasionally about who is what, and who gets what. But they do not ask, “What else?”
You will be pleased to learn that some of them do grow dissatisfied with the dull comfort the womb offers. They wriggle and kick and are painfully pushed out into the cold. They scream as their world expands infinitely. Most of them curl up in denial of the knowledge they have gained, frightened by the vastness and complexity of puzzles they cannot solve.
Others will attempt to walk around; they are content to ponder and perhaps admire what they cannot understand. These are the philosophers. They will try to talk to the children in the womb, but it is difficult because the children are so warm and sleepy that they do not pay much attention. So the philosophers wander lonely by themselves, rarely meeting each other.
Often a philosopher will think that they has met another of their kind, and will talk to them. But almost as often, the other will take offence or take fright and curl up, making his own little womb around themselves, and the philosopher will walk on in disappointment, and sometimes disgust.
From time to time the philosophers pay a visit to the mother of the children. Her name is Habit. The philosophers ask her why she keeps rearing her children in this way. She cannot explain; she merely repeats words like “order”, “truth”, “good”, “love” and “nature” until she is blue in the face and the babies are fast asleep. This frustrates the philosophers no end.
–None of you know what you are talking about! they say.
They tell Habit that it is not natural for her to keep the babies cooped up inside her like this. It is not healthy. The babies can’t grow.
–On the contrary, Habit replies, it is very healthy, and very natural. As for their size, this a good size for babies to be. They won’t be pushed out because their heads are small and that keeps their dreams small. You people have itchy feet; I am still sore from where you kicked me.
–Even so, say the philosophers, we believe that you are doing the children an injustice.
–They are my children, says Habit, and I know what is best for them. You may be “philosophers” but to me you are just troublesome children, and you are giving all the good children bad dreams with your talk. Do you want them to beunhappy?
–No, they say, but we want them to realise that there is more than you.
–What’s wrong with me? Habit scowls. Amn’t I good enough for you?
–You are very good, they say, but you are only the beginning. Beginnings can’t last forever.
The children sleep on; they think Mother knows best.
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Written in autumn 2008 for Theory of Knowledge class.
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