Plato's Footnotes

I must have written about this before since I’ve had this conversation with myself hundreds of times. But it’s unresolved, so it continues to plague me.

I really avoid having an opinion. Hard, immovable opinions are to me like spiders are to Miss Muffet, cliffs are to lemmings, and polio is to those sugar cubes they handed out in the 60s. I just don’t like them. I hate the thought that I could be unswayed by a compelling argument because I was so immovable. Sure, I’ll fight to the death anyone who thinks there’s a root beer out there better than Sprecher’s, but I still have tons of questions about even the policy work I am paid to do every day.

This is part a reflection because of the intractability of those I see around me. When I butt heads with someone that can’t stop and say, “Hmmm, you might have a point,” (especially when the point they might be acknowledging is my own) I go a little crazy. Just as I want desperately to be respected for my thoughts, I respect others. I offer my own opinions sparingly precisely because I want people to think that I care about the opinions that I do share. When the world is full of everyone with their own opinion, I think we all suffer a bit. For instance, we all think we know what the best way to teach a class is and are very quick to judge the techniques of others, especially if our own children are involved. We are not raised to loudly and firmly proclaim, “I don’t know much about this and have an uninformed opinion on the subject!” That’s seen as lazy. “Hurry up! Have an opinion! Be passionate or those that do will beat you to it.”

I remember interning in the Senate and lamenting that each Senator *had* to have an opinion on every policy matter because they had constituents that cared about every issue. As a Senator, you feel the need to be equally outspoken on all issues to leave no voter unsatisfied; postal reform, the department of defense, and water rights should have clearly defined positions and motivations. How exhausting to be so opinionated. I find it difficult enough to pick something to cook any given night, let alone be totally consumed by both postal reform *and* water rights. To loosely riff on Oscar Wilde, Only dull people are care about everything [at breakfast].

Let’s take such well-trodden ground as, I lament to bring up, abortion. Is there any person who can see no logic or coherence to the side they disagree with? No one can understand someone wanting to be in control of their own body, or the desire to protect those that have no advocate? Almost every issue is gray and circumstantial.

I have often joked that what I wanted to be when I grew up (especially with my Philosophy degree) was a man with a long white robe and a long white beard who sat on a rock and thought Deep Thoughts. This is of course a joke because the health benefits are shit, but also because the Wise Man is unproductive. If he were really wise, he would have found a better way to spread that around than by sitting on a rock and giving obscure answers to simple questions. (“Only when the Sparrow flies after the Sun has descended will the Moon truly understand its importance.”) And he’d have found a good way to make bank while doing it, rather than getting paid in chickens.

Part of the reason I’ve longed to be that bearded figure is because I loath having an opinion and discounting others whom I sincerely believe have thoroughly thought through their opinion. Of course, that last sentence crumbles in the face of slavery defenders and Hitler sympathizers. There are, at least as far as I’m concerned, rights and wrongs, truths and falsehoods.

There are protests right now in Wisconsin over a bill that will basically end public employee unions. On the Left, I understand how awful and draconian such a step seems. A group of people should be able to legally come together and say, “I feel like you and I are being treated poorly. Our power is greater when we work together. Let’s work together!” I also understand that on the Right, public employee unions vote and organize around the candidates that will raise their wages and increase their benefits; the State never has a profit wall they’re pushed against in negotiations, they simply have a public opinion that can kick them out of their job.

Of course, elected officials can’t present a face of, “Well, of course we have a disagreement over this issue” because they, well, have an opinion. Said elected official does understand that there’s a disagreement and could probably do very well in articulating the other side’s point. They just don’t feel as much of a compunction about making sure that everyone knows that, like I do.

Writing for Bowdoin’s paper was good for me because I had to advocate for something and come down somewhere. Almost every article sounded like Fiddler on the Roof’s Reb Tevye (“On the one hand…but on the other hand…”), but the last paragraph of every article laid out clearly (or at least I hoped) what the point was of my bringing all this up.

I’m twenty-two now, almost twenty-three, and I’m past the age of endless pondering. I’m suppose to start realizing my desires and my beliefs and helping the rest of the world realize them too (or at least that’s what my liberal arts degree would have me believe). When I was writing in a public forum, that was easy enough to work on. But as an underling with an organization that has its own set of beliefs, I find myself relying very faithfully on the crutch everyone else’s standards.

But that’s not enough. I need to read more, so I get smarter, so I understand more, so I can…be right. My beliefs can’t have conviction if I don’t have them and I can’t go around forever willing to push around the edges of certainty. I need a grand theory, an overarching framework. It doesn’t need to be perfect and I’m sure it will change, but there needs to be something to grasp on to.

I came up with a test today for opinions. I haven’t tried it out in areas that aren’t related to quantity, so it might not work as I’m framing it now for everything. But I think there’s something to it.

Imagine I scoop out some ice cream into a bowl for you. I hand you the bowl of ice cream. You look down at the bowl. Is the ice cream in the bowl:

A) Too much?
B) Not enough?
or C) Fine as is.

If you answered A or B, you’ve got an opinion. If you answered C, in the majority of cases I think you probably don’t have an opinion. Got the idea?

Another example. You’ve been dating someone for 6 months now. Things are going reasonably well. Do you:

A) Want to see more of them?
B) Want to see less of them?
or C) Want to see them about as much as your seeing them now?

If you answered A, it’s because things are going great and if they’re going great and you like it, wouldn’t more be a good thing? Opinion! If you answered B, it’s because it’s not quite what you’re looking for or isn’t working out like you’d like it to after 6 months of investment. Opinion! If you answered C…it’s possible that things are perfect as is. Maybe you asked yourself this question every day and it is perfect as is because you’ve been working on it so hard. But it’s more likely that you’re not terribly invested in the question. The someone your dating is not of huge importance to you. You don’t feel pulled in one direction or the other. Not an opinion.

There are likely variations on this: either/or, action/nonaction, etc. But I think it generally works. The focus is on movement. On most days, we don’t stand still; we go somewhere. And those times when you stop to look around and take everything in are unusual and often absolutely perfect when they happen.

I refuse to be the Man on the Rock with the Beard, but I’m sure I’ll also never forget about the virtues that he has. There’s room to be opinionated without being an asshole. Well, that’s what I’ve heard at least; I don’t really have an opinion on the matter.

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 24th, 2011 at 9:25 pm and is filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.