There was an unwritten rule in my college days. I’ll try to write it. A student may ask any pertinent question in class but may not ask about basic information from the assigned readings, unless there is a good reason to do so, such as to clarify an apparent contradiction or a difficult concept. During my freshman year, I learned that some questions revealed a student’s lack of preparation for class while other questions demonstrated a student’s willingness to learn more about the topic.
My professors welcomed questions in class, except for questions that could have been answered by reading the textbook or simply paying attention. Even other students had little patience when someone asked a question that had already been answered. We called these, “lazy questions.” Einstein reportedly said, “Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.” It seemed to me that I was responsible for doing my homework and not expecting my professors to spoon-feed everything to me. So, I learned to look up the basics and only ask substantial questions.
Sometimes, we hear wannabe journalists say they are “just asking questions.” This happens even though their questions reveal they don’t really understand how something works, are intentionally setting a trap, or haven’t bothered to learn enough to ask a better question. I often wonder whose interests they are really trying to serve.
A dishonest question can insinuate wrongdoing or serve as an accusation. McCarthyism worked this way. “Are you now or have you ever been a member of the communist party?” is a dishonest question. My answer would be, “Is guilt by association all you have?” A person can be a member of a church and still not be a Christian. At least, “Sir, do you know how fast you were going?” is an honest question.
A guest speaker made two points I’ll never forget. First, he advised my students, “Learn everything you can about everything you can.” In other words, become the kind of person who knows things, and realize there is a lot more to learn than you’ll ever know. He added that if all you learn is the minimum required by your academic program, you won’t be able to add much value to the world.
Second, he told the class, “I’ve heard many people say, I know what I want to say. I just don’t know how to write it.” His response was, “then you really don’t know what you want to say!” In his experience, the what and how of writing are inseparable, especially for those in professional careers. Learning to write has a way of disciplining our thoughts.
Writing is a test of our ability to communicate. Therefore, college professors make writing assignments. Generally, I can recognize good writers by how they speak. Complete sentences, good grammar, and well-organized paragraphs are the hallmarks of both good writers and good impromptu speakers.
Unfortunately, some speakers prefer rhetorical tricks and logical fallacies. They may sound like they are well-informed, but their goal is usually not to explain or clarify, but to tell their listeners what they want to hear. I’m thinking of politicians and pundits who try to embarrass the opposition while confirming the biases of their supporters. To use a Star Wars metaphor, they have been seduced by the dark side.
The surest way to defuse dishonest thinking is to search for the truth. If what a person says is grounded in objective facts, and these are delivered clearly and without bias, we can be relatively certain they know what they’re talking about. In addition, if they can communicate the truth plainly, to allow their listeners or readers to make up their own minds, we can be relatively certain they are acting in good faith.
We live in a world of “spin” and let’s face it, crooked thinking. It follows that we should learn everything we can about everything we can, as my guest said. Then perhaps we can communicate our thoughts clearly and our questions might turn out to be helpful.
[More ideas may be found here.]
MurrayWorks 