Let Freedom Reign

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THE ART OF DOING SOMETHING

What a challenge it is to establish effective communication! The person who says, “I know precisely what you mean,” could be wrong for several reasons, one of which might be that you failed to say precisely what you meant. As I once heard a speaker put it:

I know you believe you understand what you think I said. But I am not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.

Perfect communication, except in simple matters, is doubtless unattainable, such perfection presupposing a perfect sayer and a perfect hearer. These are hard to come by. Our best hope is for improvement on the part of sayer and hearer, bearing in mind that each of us plays both roles.

A simple proposition like “two plus two equals four,” and similar concepts that can be reduced to numbers and simple formulas, are more or less communicable. But when it comes to abstract ideas, particularly if they possess any novelty or fail to harmonize with familiar sentiments, most thoughts of most sayers come through as mumbo jumbo to most hearers. As if a Japanese who doesn’t understand French were trying to explain the theory of relativity to a Frenchman who doesn’t understand Japanese! We expect too much if we hope for precise communication of abstract ideas. Nevertheless, we must keep trying.

Take the previous chapter. When originally released in Notes from FEE, it evoked both approval and criticism. Here’s a sample of the latter:

I am concerned over the advice given. The gist of it appears to be that those who are opposed to communism and socialism should simply sit back and do nothing and say nothing.

Should we who know better . . . do nothing when a minister quotes approvingly from Peace, Power and Protest? Or when he doesn’t object to a publication designed to be read in Sunday School which states, “Nothing happened to correct all these abuses until the Communists came along and gave them love, help, and understanding”?

Should we do nothing, that is, make no effort to inject some light and understanding into this mass of ignorance? (Italics mine.)

This is an example of imperfect communication. Nor can I ascribe more fault to the hearer than to the sayer. Obviously, I did not say all I meant nor did he hear all I said.

“If Freedom Had Only Enemies” was warmly approved by many readers. These letters left me flushed with a feeling of success—a finished job, well done, was my instinctive reaction. Viewed rationally, however, I could not possibly have shed all the light there is on this line of thought. It’s the criticisms that force me to acknowledge that I’ve barely scratched the surface; I’ll have to clarify the distinction between “doing nothing” and the kind of action appropriate in the circumstances. To scratch, there must be something to scratch against, and the criticisms provide that surface. So, here’s another try at expressing what I mean.

On Being Constructive

Should anyone attempt to inject common sense into a rock, however vigorously, I would classify the effort as a do-nothing project. Doing something suggests constructive action. A rock cannot respond to instruction. The analogy is appropriate. One’s wisdom can no more be forced into another’s consciousness than a rock can be educated.

Assume that I am the ignorant one, the victim of communistic error, and that you rue my miserable plight. Merely have one fact in mind: At the human level, I alone am in control of such doors of perception as I possess. Your wisdom is admitted to my mind, if at all, on my say-so, not yours. The chances are that the more aggressively you try to displace my ignorance with your wisdom, the more airtight will my doors of perception be sealed against your “injections.” Reverse the roles and see if you do not arrive at the same conclusion.

The problem here is error which, according to our judgment, we refer to as ignorance. Exactly where is error corrected? Who is in charge? The correction, if any, is in the psyche and this is never dual or collective but as individualistic as “I.” In the sense that I am the ultimate arbiter of what is received and rejected by me, whether it be a belief in God, or the wisdom another possesses, or nothing at all, I alone am the dealer in my own errors. No matter how brilliantly or ignorantly I discharge my role as a human being, or whether I strive for reason, or surrender to environmental forces, I am, so far as other men are concerned, the captain of my soul. You are not and cannot be my captain except on my election.

Suppose that this were not true, that you could, on your election, inject your wisdom into my ignorance. If you could do this, so could anyone else! Indeed, if each person were not in charge of his own doors of perception, then his mind must necessarily be open to every possible wisdom—or inanity—others might propose. I could have you believing that the earth is flat or that murder is a virtue! Fortunately, such control over you is not possible; and any attempt to do the impossible might be described as a do-nothing project.

I do not mean to imply that I alone correct all my errors. Far from it! Actually, such corrections as I make must be credited largely to others. But I hold the key position: deciding who these others shall be. What turns my head to this or that person for enlightenment? It is my assessment of the enlightenment this or that person has to offer. In a word, my head turns to whoever attracts me.

The so-called battle for men’s minds is commonly thought to be an injection process. Unless ideas can be forcibly transplanted, this is false and, thus, is a do-nothing procedure.

Should we be serious about battling for men’s minds? Or is this concept in error? Devotees of freedom who take this tack are, in my judgment, on a wrong course. If I read God’s message aright, it goes something like this:

You have not been given the world to run or men’s minds to repair. Instead, you have been given you to rule and yourself to improve. Your assignment is the biggest project on earth and, try as you will, completion will never be in sight. Yours is the role of sharing in Creation, if you will, but you are not God. Attend to yourself, and leave the heavens and the earth and others who inhabit it to your Creator.

It is attending and practicing of this belief that is so often referred to as saying nothing and doing nothing. But, as I see it, the art of self-improvement is in fact the art of doing something. Conceded, this is difficult. It rests on expanding one’s own understanding, awareness; indeed, it is a process of stretching one’s own mind. This, however, is within the realm of possibility, whereas stretching the mind of another is not. What one does with his own mind is entirely up to him.

Not that we lack concern for the quality of other people’s thinking. One’s existence is powerfully governed by the thoughts and the conduct of others. But if we would effectively influence such thoughts and conduct, we must look to the means.

What can I do about the thinking of others? I can turn my concentration away from their observed ignorance or depravity and try, rather, to overcome my own shortcomings. I cannot concentrate on others and on self at one and the same time. Keeping my eye on them is to accomplish nothing; keeping my eye on self is to do all that’s possible.

“Seek Ye First . . .”

This brings us to the theory of the dividend, never in clearer words than, “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you.” In the context of my thesis: “Seek truth and righteousness first of all and then these things (better thoughts on the part of others) will be the dividend.”

Of course, the rejoinder to this is, “Prove it!” Personally, I need no more proof than to observe what happens day by day. To the skeptic, I suggest a broad, sweeping look at our society: millions of individuals, each embracing numerous errors and truths but with each in control of what he receives and rejects, taking unto himself only that which attracts him. With this picture in mind, we can see the fallacy of each trying to reform the others. This is not the way improvement is brought about. It’s the other way around: you improve yourself and, if successful enough, I and others will be drawn to you as to a magnet.

Viewed in this manner, our problem boils down to a competition in magnetism. Bear in mind that communist and many other types of errors can be and more often than not are attractive, that is, they exert an ingathering, magnetic force.

What then is my problem? Or yours? It is to make our ideas, and our methods, more attractive than are offered by the competition. This can be illustrated by a simple homology.

There were two golfers; one remained a dub, the other became the world’s best. The dub, concerned about the errors he observed among golfers, spent his time injecting his “wisdom” into their ignorance. Golfers avoided him as they would the plague. The other sought out the best tutors and concentrated on the improvement of his own game. Finally, he was able to defeat every golfer he met in competition. Golfers the world over turned to the champ that they might remedy their errors. It was the magnetism generated by his excellence that paid the dividend of a general reduction in error. The counsel of Frank Lloyd Wright comes to mind:

The moment you buttonhole somebody and begin to convert him it is all over. But when you let him buttonhole you and ask you questions that have been arousing his mind by the superiority of what you have done, or what you do, or what you can do, then you can talk to him . . . beyond that you cannot go.1

Only those who concentrate on their own improvement can ever acquire the art of doing something.

• 1The Royal Bank of Canada Monthly Letter, February, 1969.