Roots of Division – Part 2: Roe v. Wade

Demonstrators voice opposing views on abortion.

In Part 1 of this series I suggested that the Senate Watergate hearings of 1973—which along with the encompassing investigation, led to President Richard Nixon’s resignation—was such an embarrassment to the Republican Party that ever since it has tried to live it down by beating down and demonizing the Democratic Party.

Aiding and abetting the effort, Rush Limbaugh and many like him, took to the air and Internet, ranting about the evils of Liberalism and everyone connected with it. These constant right-wing drum beats helped rally the faithful to one side of the field and outfit them in the jerseys of TeamRed. The goal? Overthrowing America’s (perceived) enemy of all that is good and true: TeamBlue.

A major affront to the Conservative notion of good came on January 22, 1973, when the Supreme Court decided Roe v. Wade, the ruling that gave women in all states the right to seek abortion. (Before then, it was already legal in five states.)

Roe v. Wade and Watergate were gigavolt jolts to the Conservative psyche, one right after the other. The festering wounds they caused continue to poison the sociopolitical atmosphere of the United States.

One of the many powers of the president is to appoint justices to the Supreme Court in the case of a vacancy. That’s always a consideration during a presidential race. Voters expect Liberal candidates to appoint liberal judges who would vote favorably on cases that came before them. The same expectation holds for Conservative voters.

Ever since Roe v. Wade became law, Republicans have fought to control who sits on the Supreme Court and, therefore, the opportunity to overturn the ruling.

During his January 11, 2017, press conference, President Trump said:

"But on the Supreme Court, I'll be making that decision, and it will be a decision which I very strongly believe in. I think it's one of the reasons I got elected. I think the people of this country did not want to see what was happening with the Supreme Court, so I think it was a very, very big decision as to why I was elected."

Trump did not have to utter the words “Roe v. Wade.” The whole country knew what he meant. The Women’s March on Washington the day after Trump’s inauguration showed his widely perceived intention.

Why is abortion so divisive? For Conservatives, it’s strictly a moral issue. Abortion, at any stage and under any circumstances, is murder. For liberals, it is not so black-and-white. And it’s less of a moral issue than it is a social and personal one.

In his majority opinion, Supreme Court Justice Henry Blackmun wrote:

"The detriment that the State would impose upon the pregnant woman by denying this choice altogether is apparent. Specific and direct harm medically diagnosable even in early pregnancy may be involved. Maternity, or additional offspring, may force upon the woman a distressful life and future. Psychological harm may be imminent. Mental and physical health may be taxed by child care. There is also the distress, for all concerned, associated with the unwanted child, and there is the problem of bringing a child into a family already unable, psychologically and otherwise, to care for it. In other cases, as in this one, the additional difficulties and continuing stigma of unwed motherhood may be involved. All these are factors the woman and her responsible physician necessarily will consider in consultation."

This runs counter to a Conservative worldview built on the absolute conviction of right-wrong morality governed by strictly moral authority. There is no gray area and no sympathy for those who live within it.

Legal or not, like it or not, abortion has always been part of human activity and with social ramifications. Making it illegal will not make it go away:

  • Women with resources and who are intent on abortion will have one.
  • Pregnant women who are intent on birth may be forced into abortion by others—with or without the resources for a safe procedure—to make it happen.
  • Poor women without resources and who seek abortion will put their lives in jeopardy.

With or without adequate resources, women who feel compelled to give birth to an unwanted child, as suggested by Judge Blackmun, are likely to suffer mental and financial problems they may be unable to manage. And an unwanted child is at a great disadvantage from birth and more likely to be a lifelong drain on society.*

The personal and societal effects of illegal abortion lean toward the negative.

A not-so-subtle hypocrisy exists within the pro-life movement.

If abortion is strictly a moral issue, then we must talk also of guns and other weapons of war, war itself (which always entails murder of innocents), extreme Capitalism, systemic racism, political corruption, voter suppression, social and political injustice, etc. Aren’t all these immoral? In particular, we must talk of forcing an unwanted child—especially a poor one—into a world where he or she has little chance of wholesome or real survival. Thanks to a sociopolitical mindset that is dead set against programs designed to help them, for many, it’s a life of poverty, crime, and prison. Isn’t this akin to murder?

Roe v. Wade is law. Whether it is upheld by future courts or struck down, the division it has created will endure.

Part 3: The Vietnam War coming soon. For Part 1: Watergate, go here.

*For an in-depth analysis of the relationship between abortion and crime, read Chapter 4 of Freakonomics, by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner.

Roots of Division – Part 1: Watergate

Richard Nixon and Rush Limbaugh
Richard Nixon and Rush Limbaugh

This is first in a series of essays exploring how we got to this, our Great Divide.

Division, like coming together, is part of human nature. It’s part the history of any people or nation, including “we the people” of the United States. American history is replete with divisive events, but for this series I focus on four because they occurred during my lifetime so are part of my history. Each of them was divisive in its time, yet their repercussions merge today, leading to what could be among the most divisive moment in our history.

Two of those events, the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights Movement, coincided over the two decades of 1955–1975. Two singular and separate events occurred in 1973: the Supreme Court decision on Roe v. Wade and the Senate Watergate hearings. I begin with the latter.

On May 17, 1973, the Senate Watergate Committee began hearing testimony in its investigation of the 1972 GOP break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters.

President Richard Nixon was running for reelection at the time of the break-in at the Watergate Hotel and office complex. Much of the questioning during the hearing focused on what Nixon knew about it and, more important, when he knew about it and if he had participated in a coverup.

On May 9, 1974, impeachment hearings began before he House Judiciary Committee. On August 9, Nixon resigned from office, his impeachment imminent. The Supreme Court had ruled that Nixon must release all his tapes of secretly recorded conversations he’d had with members of his administration. These tapes, especially the last one discovered, showed the world Richard Nixon’s involvement in the cover-up. Nixon became a major embarrassment to Conservatives and the Republican Party, a condition they’ve worked hard to overcome.

Since the Watergate scandal, Republicans have been steadfast in their effort to portray Democrats as evil and in all ways worse than Republicans.

During Jimmy Carter’s third year in office, on November 4, 1979, a group of Iranian students overtook the American embassy in Tehran, Iran, taking 66 Americans hostage. Over time, the militants released 14 hostages, but 52 remained captive 444 days, until minutes after Ronald Reagan’s inauguration on January 20, 1981. Carter had failed to negotiate a release of the hostages. A military rescue attempt ended in disaster—with eight Americans killed—because of mechanical failure. Republicans held Carter personally responsible. Republican scorn handed Carter a humiliating defeat by Ronald Reagan after one term

Compare the Iran hostage situation with the Iran-Contra scandal. Members of Reagan’s administration secretly traded weapons with Iran and used the proceeds to support Nicaraguan “contras” during that country’s civil war. Nothing came of this scandal for reasons that had more to do with concealing evidence and with pardons than with innocence.

Conservatives’ balanced their hatred for Carter (despite his many accomplishments) by their adoration of Ronald Reagan as the exemplar of the Republican ideology and character.

Republicans hounded Bill Clinton with investigations of one manufactured scandal after another—not to say there wasn’t one or two real scandals during his time in office. The Republican House did impeach Clinton for  his affair with Monica Lewinsky, but the Senate acquitted him.

Yet Republicans had nothing to say about George W. Bush’s devastating invasion of Iraq justified by lies about weapons of mass destruction.

Republicans spent eight years obstructing Barack Obama, earning the epithet “the Party of No.” Among other things, they tried to repeal the Affordable Care Act some 60 times, even though it was based on a plan developed by the conservative Heritage Foundation. Upon Obama’s election Republicans insisted he would be a failure. They worked against him to make sure he failed. In the end they insisted he was a failure. They could not bring themselves to acknowledge any of Obama’s accomplishments or his character.

On September 11, 2012, members of Ansar al-Sharia attacked the diplomatic compound in Benghazi, Libya, killing four Americans, including the US Ambassador to Libya. The Republican-led Congress heaped blame on then Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. Seven investigations, including one 11-hour stint of questioning of Clinton produced no evidence of misconduct on her part or President Obama’s. Strong suggestions emerged from Washington that the investigators’ intention was to discredit Clinton and hurt her chances of a possible run for president.

One of the most blatant examples of elevating Republicans by disparaging Democrats is Vice President Dick Cheney’s assertion in 2013 that the attack on Benghazi was “one of the worst incidents, frankly, that I can recall in my career.”

This is the same Vice President Cheney who was in office on September 11, 2001, serving under President George W. Bush. The Bush administration disregarded several warnings in the spring of that year of a likely attack by Al Qaeda on American soil.

In 1987 the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) did away with the Fairness Doctrine, which compelled television and radio broadcasters to give equal time to controversial viewpoints. This newfound freedom opened the way for daily broadcasts by Rush Limbaugh to go unchallenged. Over the past 30 years, Limbaugh has directed his diatribes against everything Liberal. Dozens of vitriolic voices have since amplified the message of hatred for the Left and a mistrust of all media other than those which reenforce the Party line.

Today, the larger sociopolitical environment is so toxic the misinformed shout down reasonable rebuttals as lies and “fake news.” The Right considers Liberal thought cancerous, a disease with eradication the only solution. The Right lays claim as the sole possessor of patriotism, morality, and as the true heir of the American Experiment. Their “values” are the only ones that count. Hatred is now one of those “values.” Republicans use outright lying and trafficking in conspiracy theories and false equivalencies as valued tactics.

This unchallengeable rhetoric and impenetrable mindset, built over the past 44 years, have enabled Donald Trump’s ascension to power. His supporters believe he will upset the world as he puts “America First.” But it’s a world created, to a large extent, by the very people who boosted him into power.

For Part 2: Roe v. Wade go here.

Divided, We Are Falling

WW II poster. Courtesy Wikimedia Commons.

We now have three major political parties in the United States: the Democratic Party, the Republican Party, and The Party. The Party has amassed considerable power and control, using the Republican Party as a catapult into the White House. Once in, the Great Leader and his enablers are fulfilling Trump’s campaign promises without regard for the Constitution, the rule of law, or concern about any consequences.

The Republican Party has a crucial decision to make. As the majority, it can hold steady its course of division, thereby increasing the power of The Party. Or it can work with Democrats to make sure the Trumpian oligarchy crumbles in disgrace—even at the cost of some of it’s most cherished policies. Democrats have an obligation to work with their legislative partners. Devolving to dictatorship is to great a price to pay.

Now is the time for both legitimate parties to put aside their decades’ long animosity toward one other and find a common ground of civility and concern for the health and wellbeing of all citizens of this country and the country’s spirit too. We cannot endure much longer the vindictiveness, hatred, and divisiveness that has created alternating cycles of euphoria for one side and despondency for the other. Without congressional compromise and cooperation, the mutual despondency both sides is coming.

Good people everywhere—and there are more good people than not in this country, I’m sure—must make an effort to relearn what it means to respect one another, to compromise, to value the commonweal. We must relearn what truth is and seek it regardless of its consequences to our well-defended egos.

We need to come together to work together. Together we must find solutions to our many social, economical, political, and environmental problems for the good of all, now and into the future. We must realize that the short-term gains of the profiteers are against the best interests of the people.

We, together, must stand up to The Party—now, while we still can. Otherwise, if the The Party succeeds, the other two parties, if they continue to exist, will have no purpose. Then, our division will be complete and irreparable. When that happens, The Party will force the people to unite under the banner of Fascism.

Perception, Deception, and Wandering to the Woods

My mother sewed a lot, until into her 50’s when arthritis in her hands made it difficult for her to cut fabric. She’d tried electric sheers, but they were unsatisfactory.

In my early childhood, before I started school, I remember her sitting at her Kenmore machine, giving the flywheel a start with the palm of her right hand and keeping it humming along with her right knee pressed against the lever protruding below the cabinet.

We had a Crosley portable radio with two big dials: an alarm clock on the left and the radio dial on the right. A knob beneath each dial controlled the volume and the tuner. It was blue. Usually it was in the kitchen, but my mom would place the radio on the floor beneath the drop-leaf surface of the sewing machine while she worked. Sometimes I’d lay on the floor, propped on my elbows, staring with curiosity as the rhythmic chchchch of the machine accompanied whatever was playing on the radio. The only thing I can remember coming from that radio, though, was Arthur Godfrey saying, “How wah ya, how wah ya, how wah ya?”

Once, while I was playing in another part of the house, I heard my mother cry out in pain. I ran to where she sat at her machine and saw the little mound of blood well up from the center of her fingernail. I don’t remember what happened next, nor do I know how far, if not all the way through, the needle went. All I can retrieve from my memory is that little spot of blood.

It was 1955, and I was four years old. Near our house was what I thought of as “the woods.” For all I know, it could have been just a small patch of scrawny trees.

One day as I passed by the sewing room, my mother hunched over her project, I called out, telling her I was going to go to the woods. Over the chunk of the sewing machine she called back, “Okay.” So off I went. Sometime later (whether two minutes or 20), satisfied with my adventure, I strolled back to the house where my frantic mother, both relieved and angry, shouted, “How dare you leave this house without telling me where you’re going! I’ve been calling and calling for you!”

“But you told me I could play in the woods,” I said.

“I most certainly did not.”

“But I heard you. You said it was okay.”

She was unmoved. “Don’t you lie to me, Paul Edward!”

I was crushed and confused. Could I have been wrong? After all, her back was to me. Had she not heard me over the machine? Had she thought I’d said something else? Did I imagine she said it was okay only because I wanted her to? Did I not really call out as loudly as I’d thought, knowing if she were to hear me she certainly would have said no? I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.

I do know this: I have heard my mother’s voice, deep in my mind, dozens of times throughout my life. Each time she calls just my name, just once: “Paul.” It’s not an angry or frantic cry, as it must have been when she discovered me missing. Rather, it’s as though she were calling me into the kitchen for a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Her voice, clear and crisp.

My father would describe this sort of thing as “your mind playing tricks on you.” I heard that phrase a lot growing up. Maybe it was about a sinister shadow in the corner or the creaks of the house settling in for the night sounding as though someone were creeping right outside my bedroom door.

These little tricks keep me busy all day long as I spontaneously navigate through millions of perceptions—what I hear, see, touch, smell, taste, and think—each day, every day. What a challenge. Without perception neither I nor you could function. Most perceptions are correct and accurate enough interpretations of our surroundings to guide along without difficulty. Some perceptions are inaccurate and, I suspect, most misperceptions go unnoticed because they have no immediate impact. Sometimes, though, misperceptions will lead to bad decisions, petty arguments, embarrassing moments, collisions, missed appointments, unhappy marriages, disastrous political consequences, and war.

Errors in perception have great potential for disaster because with every perception comes the potential for deception. Every one of them. My wandering away from home one day in 1955—based on a simple misperception in my oh-so-young mind—could have ended differently.

On the Spectrum of Ignorance and Wisdom

 

“Spectrum” initially referred to the range of colors displayed as a continuum when white light disperses through a prism. Today we use the word to describe any continuum on which a condition, person, or group might fall. Political spectrum is a good example. The phrase “on the spectrum” applies to people with a variety of social disorders, usually lumped together as some form of autism.

Just about anything displaying subtle gradations can be placed on a spectrum line. Some, like your intelligence quotient, is quantified by IQ points based on testing. Others are not so easy to pin down. What I have in mind is the spectrum of ignorance to wisdom.

This is tricky territory for the same reason we don’t, in polite company anyway, make judgements about a person’s IQ—which we aren’t likely to know—and how smart they are. Another reason it’s tricky is that words like ignorance and wisdom will mean different things to different people and under different circumstances.

Merriam-Webster defines wisdom as: “knowledge that is gained by having many experiences in life; the natural ability to understand things that most other people cannot understand; knowledge of what is proper or reasonable; good sense or judgment.”

The same source defines ignorance as: “a lack of knowledge, understanding, or education; the state of being ignorant.”

In other words, ignorance is the lack of wisdom.

People with low IQs or an overall lack of wisdom don’t generally brag about such things (which they may not even be aware of). Some people, though, do like to brag about their high IQs and how smart—and wise—they are.

Braggarts aside, the qualities of stupid and smart, and ignorance and wisdom are more often attributed to us by others—sometimes correctly, sometimes not. Such judgements, right or wrong, depend on those judges’ own placement on the ignorance-wisdom spectrum.

The dictionary definition of wisdom is useful only on a superficial level, because it gives no insights into vague ideas of what’s “proper or reasonable,” or of “good sense or judgment.” Each day, people gain another day’s worth of experience. That incremental gain doesn’t necessarily add to one’s wisdom. As for “the natural ability to understand things that most other people cannot understand,” well, it may sound mystical and shamanistic, but the relatively few people who understand quantum mechanics or string theory aren’t necessarily wise.

So how to know wisdom? To get a better gasp of what wisdom means let’s take a look into some qualities showing in wise people.

  • Wise people carry intentions of harmlessness. They consider their future actions in terms of the benefit they will have for others, avoiding harmful actions. They reflect on past actions, also in terms of benefit and harm to others, then adjust accordingly.
  • Wise people carry intentions of good will. They speak well of others, avoiding gossip and derogatory speech. They are truthful. Their tone is pleasant and harmonious instead of harsh and divisive. They say things that are meaningful instead of chattering on without purpose.
  •  Wise people have an understanding of the connectedness of things and instinctively see how changes in one area or circumstance may have profound effects on seemingly unrelated areas or circumstances. They understand the nature of cause and effect on levels deeper than the mundane.
  • Wise people are generous, because they understand the grip of need. They are virtuous, because they understand the heavy boot of dishonest and dishonorable people. They don’t take what doesn’t belong to them, because they understand the pain of loss.

I doubt this covers everything, but it’s a start at painting a picture of wisdom. Wisdom has more to do with understanding the nature of the human condition and responding in a positive way. Those who understand the nature of the human condition and respond in a negative way—taking unfair advantage of others, for example—are, at best, sociopaths. At worst, they are psychopaths.

Wisdom has little or nothing to do with general knowledge and IQ. Knowledgeable and intelligent people can be short on wisdom. Uneducated and low-IQ people can be wise.

Giving attention to your inner world as well as the outer world, with the intentions of harmlessness and good will, is the means for cultivating wisdom. Like a well-tended garden, wisdom can grow. The more wisdom grows, the further away from ignorance you travel along the spectrum. And that’s good for you and good for the world. The world is sorely in need of wise people. All people are sorely in need of wise leaders.

A Peculiar Kind of Thanksgiving

During one of the 2016 Republican primary debates, Sen. Marco Rubio said, “I thank God that George W. Bush was president on 9/11.” He was implying, of course, that a President Al Gore would not have handled things so well as Bush did during the aftermath.

In a sense, though, Rubio was thanking God for two protracted wars and the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people; thanking God for the billions of dollars wasted on those wars; thanking God for destabilizing the Middle East and opening the way for ISIS; thanking God for yet another generation of broken soldiers and broken families, some of whom live in broken cars and under broken bridges. There is more, of course, but that’s the picture.

Knowing now the consequences of the 2000 election—an election predicated and fueled by intense hatred of Bill Clinton and, by extension, Al Gore—would your vote then have been different? Could anyone who voted for Gorge W. Bush honestly say, “Well, so what? It would have been much, much worse with Gore as president.” Worse how? I ask.

Surely there was a lot of God-thanking when the Electoral College tipped in favor of Donald Trump, giving him the presidency despite Hillary Clinton winning the popular vote. Never mind that we have set ourselves up for potential consequences more terrible than those brought on by George Bush.

Some of us Americans are comfortable with the prospect of living under an authoritarian, white-nationalist regime. I can imagine how grateful they are for the opportunity. Others of us are not so enamored of the idea.

But who knows? There could be reason for optimism. Take one example: Maybe under Trump the middle class will rise to its former glory days. Maybe all those shuttered factories in the rust belt will spontaneously rev to life. Workers (non-union, of course) will enjoy a wage high enough that families can once again be single-earner households. Dad will truck off to the plant while mom cooks a nice hot breakfast for the kids before she drives them to their excellent charter school. Wouldn’t that be great?

Today, we can only predict how a Trump presidency will play out. But the anomaly that was the past campaign and election doesn’t bode well for the country and the world, let alone for those who championed him.

Yet someday, no matter how bad things get over the next four years, someone undoubtedly will “thank God” that Donald Trump was president. Because under Hillary Clinton, just like under Al Gore, things would have been so much, much, much worse. For the believers, it could not be otherwise.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

(For the record, I supported Bernie Sanders in the primaries, but voted for Clinton in opposition to Trump. I would have preferred another Democratic candidate. Clinton’s sense of entitlement to the presidency and her close association with Wall Street were off-putting for me. However, she has suffered years of assault by the right-wing propaganda machine, and I don’t think she deserves the reputation the right has assigned to her.)

Thinking Within the Shadows

Philly Thinker

Sometimes I’ll push away from my desk, rise to my feet, and take step a or two only to pause as though I’d forgotten where I’m headed. The older I get the truer it is I’ve forgotten my immediate intention. But most of the time when I pause in mid step it’s something else. If Robin’s in the room she may say something like: “There you go,… thinking again.” Yes, there I go again. Thinking. In my world, windows are for introspection as much as to allow me to see what the neighbors are up to.

I am easily distracted by my own thoughts. I’m like a thought hobo, hopping on a train and musing my way through a wilderness of ideas. These particular bouts of thoughtfulness aren’t the common wandering mind, or day-dreamy fantasies, or imaginary intrigues, perhaps of the kind a novelist would have while conjuring plots and characters. Rather, I’m likely trying to make sense of some vague philosophical question or even how I might develop an idea into an essay like this one. 

That’s why, while rummaging around the Internet looking for something to read one day, I was stricken with curiosity with the discovery of the essay “Thinking as a Hobby,” by William Golding (sorry, can’t remember where I found it). Golding is the author Lord of the Flies, the classic survival tale of group of British schoolboys shipwrecked on an island.

Golding’s essay begins with himself as a young schoolboy, standing in front of his headmaster, in trouble again. And once again the headmaster is demanding that he think! 

Central to Golding’s story are three statuettes kept on a shelf above the headmaster’s desk: The Venus de Milo, a leopard ready to spring, and Rodin’s The Thinker. The headmaster uses them, as needed, to drive home a point. In this case he says to the bewildered Golding as he plunks The Thinker on his desk, “That’s what a man looks like when he’s really thinking!” 

Golding admits that he wasn’t, at first, much of a thinker. “Clearly there was something missing in me,” he writes. “Nature had endowed the rest of the human race with a sixth sense and left me out.”

I know the feeling. 

But gradually, as he observes the people around him, Golding realizes the way they think drives their behavior. He derives from his observations three grades of thinking, with grade three being the lowest and most common and grade one the highest. 

He illustrates the difference between a grade-two thinker and a grade-three thinker with a story about himself and a potential girlfriend, Ruth, both now fourteen. In a discussion about religion, Ruth, a Methodist, claims the King James Bible is “literally inspired.” Golding counters that the Catholics, who use the St. Jerome Vulgate version, also claim their Bible literally inspired. Well, Ruth argues, there are so many Methodists who can’t be wrong, surely “…not all those millions?” To which Golding responds:

That was too easy, said I restively…since there were more Roman Catholics than Methodists anyway; and they couldn’t be wrong, could they—not all those hundreds of millions? An awful flicker of doubt appeared in her eyes. I slid my arm around her waist and murmured breathlessly that if we were counting heads, the Buddhists were the boys for my money.

Ruth, the obviously grade-three thinker, “fled.”

Grade-three thinkers don’t rely so much on logic or reason to form opinions and make decisions. Instead, as Golding states, they feel rather than think.

Grade-two thinkers, however, are able to see the contradictions within grade-three thinking. Heartless grade-two thinkers—as Golding himself demonstrates—can easily exploit and demean grade-three thinkers.

I have a tendency to compare myself with others, usually unfavorably, and as I read through this essay I wondered how I rated within Golding’s hierarchy of thinking. Surely, were I grade-three thinker, the essay wouldn’t have appealed to me in the first place. And, if it did appeal to me, I wouldn’t have gotten too far into it before I recognized myself as a “Ruth” and dismissed it as garbage. But I did recognize myself as the grade-two Golding. I see inconsistencies, contradictions, and ironies in many things—sometimes even in my own thinking. And I confess also to having the ability to cut sharp and quick—sometimes without thinking first of the consequences.

Of course, Golding does not devise three grades of thinking only to stop at grade two. As he tells it, he tires of thinking as a hobby and goes on to be a professional grade-one thinker. But, reading the essay, I am looking for clues that suggest I, too, am a grade-one thinker. But then I read:

Grade-two thinking, though it filled life with fun and excitement, did not make for content. To find out the deficiencies of our elders bolsters the young ego but does not make for personal security. I found that grade two was not only the power to point out contradictions. It took the swimmer some distance from the shore and left him there, out of his depth.

The emphasis is mine. I took that sentence personally. So often it happens: I have a great idea and begin to develop it. But suddenly it seems as though I have no idea of where I’m going with it or what I’m to do with it, as though I’m floundering out of my depth. I was consoled, however, by the distinction Golding draws between grade-two and grade-one thinkers. Grade-two thinkers will end a conversation with a rhetorical “What is truth?” For a grade-one thinker, however, the question is the beginning of a conversation. I recognized the instinct and felt enough ease to continue.

Although Golding, while studying at Oxford, describes a chance encounter with “Professor Einstein” (an exemplary grade-one thinker), he does not give an obvious example of grade-one thinking. Rather, I should say, the example he does give wasn’t obvious to me at first. Only after thinking it through did I realize the importance of the three statuettes. He brings them into the story three times. I mention the first above. Then, while doing some cleaning outside of the headmaster’s office, he takes advantage of the headmaster’s absence and rearranges them in a way that is meaningful to him at the moment. But, later in life he gains a different view. He writes:

 If I were to go back to the headmaster’s study and find the dusty statuettes still there, I would arrange them differently. I would dust Venus and put her aside, for I have come to love her and know her for the fair thing she is. But I would put the Thinker, sunk in his desperate thought, where there were shadows before him—and at his back, I would put the leopard, crouched and ready to spring.

Grade-one thinkers are curious, always looking into the shadows for what can be discovered there. But it’s more than that. For for a grade-one thinker it is imperative to explore what hides in the shadows. Life depends on it.