I was reminded recently when reading Krista Tippett’s most recent book, Becoming Wise An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living, that the questions we ask and our intention when we ask them determines whether or not an honest, open conversation can take place. I think that she is accurate when she suggests that it is easy to ask questions just so we can tell the other person “the truth.” In other words we really have no intentions of having an open, respectful exchange of ideas or information. Our intention is not to learn from the other person or attempt to appreciate, even if we cannot agree, the opinion or stance of the other person.
We(I) often ask questions and then instead of empathically listening to the answer we (I) silently rehearse our (my) response detailing why their answer is wrong. This is not a conversation, but rather an exchange of fixed truths which may or may not be disguised as opinions open to new information.
If the participants in an exchange are feeling as if they are present to be judged or told how wrong their truth is, they are not going to want to have or continue a conversation. Sadly, much of our education system and even our parenting is one in which the wise elder/teacher is imparting wisdom to the student. This sort of exchange does not facilitate learning critical thinking.
Early this morning I listened to a news report and later an exchange at Panera’s Restaurant about an incident which is the focus of a lot of news coverage. The incident concerned a three-year-old-who, when mother’s head was turned for a second, found a way to get inside the area which was the zoo home of a large gorilla. Zoo officials who needed to make a quick decision when the gorilla was dragging the little boy determined that immediate action was needed. A tranquilizer administered by a gun might not take effect before the animal hurt the little boy. The only option seemed to be to shoot to kill the animal. The zoo officials did kill the animal and saved the little boy from further injury or possible death.
Obviously this incident was frightening for all involved: the zoo officials, the gorilla, the mother and other visitors to the zoo, and the little boy. For many, including thousands of people signing a petition, fault needs to be determined. The possibilities included:
The mother who momentarily took her eyes off the child.
The zoo staff for not insuring that it was impossible for a child to enter the area where the gorilla was living.
The zoo staff for not having a non-lethal option available.
I suppose some might add the three year old child to the possible of possible persons at fault although we know a child that young is not capable of understanding the danger.
No one seems to be blaming the gorilla for acting like a gorilla or the little boy for acting like a three-year old child.
If one listens to conversations or pronouncements about the event someone needs to be at fault. I suppose that the attraction of someone being at fault is that there is the illusion of an action which can be taken to prevent such tragedies in the future.
What if the truth is that there is no way to prevent all accidents? Certainly the zoo can explore ways to prevent any possible entrance to such an area by a child in the future. Actually, for many, many years no child had gotten into the area although I am sure that many parents have momentarily taken their eye off a child and the child had run to watch the gorilla. It is possible that a law could be passed that required all parents to harness their child in such a way that the parent cannot let go of the leash to the harness? Certainly that could be a possible solution until a leash broke or something else happened one time out of 99 million to result in the child getting loose.
Let’s suppose that at great expense a new seemingly very secure wall or fence is installed which will never develop any weakness which might go unnoticed and will not allow entrance to a quick, curious child. (Interestingly there is a similar argument about the improving the security of the fence surrounding the White House.)
Let’s suppose that someone invents or discovers a new tranquilizer which instantly immobilizes a 400-pound animal. That would be great but then let us suppose that the cost for the gun, training, and the chemical is such that the zoo has to decide whether to spend money for that once in a 70 or 80 year occurrence or to install some other safety feature.
We could choose a variety of issues. One of the features of the program On Being which I admire is the commitment to present discussions which may offer widely divergent views. For example, there was one show which featured Francis Kissling, president of Catholics for Choice from 1981 to 2007 and David Gushee, a distinguished professor of Christian Ethics whose books include The Sacredness of Life.
I do not own a gun and I label myself a pacifist. If my son were in immediate danger might I use a gun to save his life? My pacifist position demands that I never take or threaten the life of another. My values as a father demand that I protect my son if it is in my power to do so. Can I say for sure that if my son’s life were in immediate danger and there was a gun available I would not use it?
I like to say that I would not sell my values for any amount of money. Yet, no one has ever offered me an obscene amount to compromise my values. Can I say for sure that I would not take the money with the subsequent justification that I could feed and house 1,000 refugees for three months?
Often individuals such as Krista Tippett remind me that life is messy. There are few and possibly no decisions which are clear cut and always true in all circumstances. Yet, if I allow for the possibility of listening to the opposing view or opinion I may get very uncomfortable.
Empathy may not always be easy or cheap. It comes with a price of confusion, the possibility of lots of cracks in my “eternal truths,” and the realization that I must live with a certain amount of “dis ease.”
When Jesus challenges one to not judge the prostitute we may have to face the prostitute within us. When the Buddha challenges us to “just notice” without judgments, we may be forced to examine own our thoughts and feelings which do not fit nicely into the tapestry of our idealized self.
I understand the allure to pronounce judgment. While I ideally appreciate empathy, I would prefer it be easy and uncomplicated.
I am fond of saying that I often find myself being judgmental of those who I perceive to be judgmental.
Oh dear!