the competition. I challenged the students to share their opinions, define their
terms, and support their views. A Chinese student leaned over to one of the
Americans in the room and asked, “What is he doing, trying to get us to fight?”
This
was unfamiliar, uncomfortable territory for these students and my questions
landed with a thud.
In some societies, questions are viewed as an outright threat. Repressive
regimes know they cannot stand up to scrutiny or challenge. Thought
dictatorships reject accountability and suppress curiosity.
A “Letter from Pyongyang” in the
Washington Post caught my eye. Entitled
“Virtual Reality Inside North Korea,” the article by Anna Fifield told the story of
her tour of a North Korean hospital with a group of reporters. A secretive,
brutally repressive state, North Korea wanted to
show off healthcare in the
communist paradise. The tour was surreal. Fifield saw “decades-old” incubators
in the maternity ward and a lab stocked with “a museum exhibit of scientific
instruments.” She asked one of the doctors who was assigned to the group
whether international sanctions “limited your ability to get the technology you
need to do your work.”
Sanctions had caused suffering, came the answer, but “Great Leader Marshal
Kim Jong-un taught us to learn about technology and science so we have the
ability to develop by ourselves.”
Later in the tour, Fifield asked if the doctor had access to the internet. He
went to a nearby building to go online
three or four times a week, he replied.
Had he been online this past week? “No, no times this week.”
As they passed a CT scanner, Fifield asked if they could turn it on so she
could see it work. The response: “Why? Do you have a serious health problem?”
she was asked.
“You ask too many questions,” Fifield’s government minder told her. “It’s a
little hard to work with you.”
In North Korea, there’s no point and little future in asking.
In vibrant societies, however, we want our next generation of questioners to
be better than the last. Indeed, the people I spoke with for this book know that
the ability to ask is directly connected to our ability to invent and innovate, to
push boundaries and pose the big questions that confront us as a society. Some
have dedicated themselves to teaching young people and helping future
generations understand the power and poetry of questions. Three such
individuals stood out for their commitment to the future.
The
Justice of Citizenship
Justice Sandra Day O’Connor asked some of the biggest questions confronting
America during her twenty-five years on the United States Supreme Court.
Though she had been retired for several years, she still kept an office deep inside
the massive neoclassical building. Justice O’Connor was in her eighties. A cane
leaned against her desk. But her voice was strong and clear as she rose without
effort to greet me.
We weren’t there to discuss her opinions in some of the most significant
cases in American history—not
Bush v. Gore, when the Court (with her crucial
vote) picked a president; nor
Planned Parenthood v. Casey, when she sided with
the
liberal justices upholding Roe v. Wade. “I don’t look back,” she told me
definitively. “That’s for a historian or a book writer. I did the best I could and
that’s that.”
We were there to talk instead about her initiative to teach young people
about the important questions of government and citizenship. Sitting in her
cavernous office, wrapped with shelves heavy with books on law and
government, it was impossible not to feel the weight of history and the great
debates that had defined America. The American experience, Justice O’Connor
explained, was built on defining questions.
Dostları ilə paylaş: