For Dec. 19, 1996 Drummer Column, Gibbs, 661 words

Spending time

I dropped a pencil in one of my classes the other day. I asked what caused it to happen. Someone said, "You let go."

Someone else said, "You thought about letting go, then you let go."

Someone else said, "Last night while planning your lessons, you decided to drop the pencil, and today you let it go."

Someone else said, "You became a teacher a long time ago, and after countless years of experience you decided it would be a good idea to drop your pencil to prove a point, and today was that day."

Another said, "Your mom met your dad and they got married and had you. That's what caused you to drop the pencil."

"I see," I said. "So, because my mother worked at the Alameda Naval Air Station during World War Two and met my father, who was a sailor on a ship, I dropped my pencil?"

"Yes."

"Was it my decision to drop the pencil, or the decision of my parents to marry and raise children?"

"Hmm."

"It's a good thing for me we had that world war," I said, "or I might not be around today to drop my pencil. It's a good thing for me that millions of people died in Europe in muddy trenches and death camps."

"Hmm."

We discussed my grandparents, and how they met at a logging camp. Perhaps they caused the pencil to fall. This led to the founding of America, back through the Age of Enlightenment, past the Renaissance into the Dark Ages, on into Rome and Greece of Ancient Times, over the dinosaurs to the Big Bang or the Sacred Garden.

"Was it the original Primal Move or Mover that caused me to drop my pencil?"

"In a sense."

"In that same sense, if everything is an effect of the ultimate cause, do we have free will?"

"Hmm."

We had just finished reading Candide, you see. In it, Candide, the innocent, simple-minded pilgrim, finds enlightenment after years of hellish experiences. He discovers that one must cultivate one's own existence to make it worth living. He spends the remainder of his years working a small farm. His wife, Cunegonde, is no longer beautiful, but he loves her dutifully.

Here's the rub. Candide's teacher, Dr. Pangloss, claims that all the horrible things that happened to Candide - the beatings, the loneliness, the misfortunes, the suffering -- were necessary and for the best because they led him to wisdom and happiness.

Candide's response is ambiguous. Voltaire ends the book with Candide saying to Pangloss, "Well said, but we must cultivate our garden."

Which side is Voltaire on? He spends the entire book ridiculing the optimism of Leibnitz, who claimed that this is the best of all possible worlds, that every event is for the ultimate good. Yet, in the end, Voltaire is stuck with cause and effect. Candide encounters war, ignorance, bigotry, zealotry, brutality, greed, natural disaster, thievery, and comes out smelling like a rose. If all comes out well for his main character in the end, then isn't optimism being validated?

Back to the pencil. Did it fall because single-celled organisms multiplied, or am I totally and absolutely responsible? Did I drop the pencil of my own free will?

And if I'm happy with my life, and my pencil droppings, do I cause myself to be happy, or is it somehow the result of the fall of Rome?

Am I happy because I was hit by a car as a kid, crashed my motorcycle as a teen, lost hearing in one ear, flattened a foot, and watched my dogs die? Is bad good?

We talked like this for a long time. Every student posed a Candide question to the class, and we kicked big ideas around. Then the bell rang, which caused everyone to leave the classroom.

Was it our sparkling conversation that caused the bell to ring? What if we had spent the period drawing swirls, or counting arm hairs?