Ishmael

“Relatively calm, so far.”

“Good. Like the Second Murderer, you are one whom the vile blows and buffets of the world have so incens’d that you are reckless what you do to spite the world.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then let’s begin. We confront a wall at the boundary of thought in your culture. Yesterday I called it a monument, but I suppose there’s nothing to prevent a wall from being a monument as well. In any case, this wall is an axiom stating that certain knowledge about how people should live is unobtainable. I reject this axiom and climb over the wall. We don’t need prophets to tell us how to live; we can find out for ourselves by consulting what’s actually there.”

There was nothing to say to that, so I just shrugged.

“You’re skeptical, of course. According to the Takers, all sorts of useful information can be found in the universe, but none of it pertains to how people should live. By studying the universe, you’ve learned how to fly, split atoms, send messages to the stars at the speed of light, and so on, but there’s no way of studying the universe to acquire the most basic and needful knowledge of all: the knowledge of how you ought to live.”

“That’s right.”

“A century ago the would–be aeronauts of the world were in exactly the same condition with regard to learning how to fly. Do you see why?”

“No. I don’t see what aeronauts have to do with it.”

“It was far from certain that the knowledge these would–be aeronauts were looking for existed at all. Some said it wasn’t out there to be found, so there was no point in looking for it. Do you see the similarity now?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“There’s more to the similarity than that, however. At that point in time, there wasn’t a single piece of knowledge about flying that could be considered certain. Everyone had his own theory. One would say, ‘The only way to achieve flight is to imitate the bird; you’ve got to have a pair of flapping wings.’ Another would say, ‘One pair isn’t enough, you’ve got to have two.’ And another would say, ‘Nonsense. Paper airplanes fly without flapping wings; you need a pair of rigid wings and a power plant to push you through the air.’ And so on. They could argue their pet notions to their hearts’ content, because there wasn’t a single thing that was certain. All they could do was proceed by trial and error.”

“Uh huh.”

“What would have enabled them to proceed in a more efficient way?”

“Well, as you say, obviously some knowledge.”

“But what knowledge in particular?”

“Lord… They needed to know how to produce lift. They needed to know that air flowing over an airfoil…”

“What is it you’re trying to describe?”

“I’m trying to describe what happens when air flows over an airfoil.”

“You mean what always happens when air flows over an airfoil?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s that called? A statement that describes what always happens when certain conditions are met.”

“A law.”

“Of course. The early aeronauts had to proceed by trial and error, because they didn’t know the laws of aerodynamics—didn’t even know there were laws.”

“Okay, I see what you’re getting at now.”

“The people of your culture are in the same condition when it comes to learning how they ought to live. They have to proceed by trial and error, because they don’t know the relevant laws—and don’t even know that there are laws.”

“And I agree with them,” I said.

“You’re certain that no laws can be discovered concerning how people ought to live.”

“That’s right. Obviously there are made–up laws, like the laws against drug use, but these can be changed by a vote. You can’t change the laws of aerodynamics by a vote—and there are no laws like that about how people should live.”

“I understand. That’s what Mother Culture teaches, and in this case you agree with her. That’s fine. But at last you have a clear understanding of what I’m attempting here: to show you a law that you will agree is not subject to change by any vote.”

“Okay. My mind is open, but I can’t imagine any way in the world you’re going to accomplish that.”

2

“What’s the law of gravity?” Ishmael asked, once again startling me with an apparent change of subject.

“The law of gravity? Well, the law of gravity is… every particle in the universe is attracted to every other particle, and this attraction varies with the distance between them.”

“And that expression of the law was read where?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was derived by looking at what?”

“Well… at matter, I suppose. The behavior of matter.”

“It wasn’t derived by a close study of the habits of bees.”

“No.”

“If you want to understand the habits of bees, you study bees, you don’t study mountain–building.”

“That’s right.”

“And if you had the strange notion that there might be a set of laws about how to live, where would you look for it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Would you look into the heavens?”

“No.”

“Would you delve into the realm of subatomic particles?”

“No.”

“Would you study the properties of wood?”

“No.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Anthropology?”

“Anthropology is a field of study, like physics. Did Newton discover the law of gravity by reading a book on physics? Is that where the law was written?”

“No.”

“Where was it written?”

“In matter. In the universe of matter.”

“So, again: If there is a law pertaining to life, where will we find it written?”

“I suppose in human behavior.”

“I have amazing news for you. Man is not alone on this planet. He is part of a community, upon which he depends absolutely. Have you ever had any suspicions to that effect?”

It was the first time I’d seen him raise a single eyebrow.

“You don’t have to be sarcastic,” I told him.

“What’s the name of this community, of which man is only one member?”

“The community of life.”

“Bravo. Does it seem at all plausible to you that the law we’re looking for could be written in this community?”