Beliefs as diverse as the people who hold them

kw: book reviews, nonfiction, faith, philosophy, essay collections

At my dissertation defense, I was presenting the results of my research, which were a bit controversial. One of the first questions asked was, "Do you really believe that?" The tone showed that the professor asking carried a lot of freight; it was inquisitorial. I replied, slowly, "I don't use the word 'believe' that way. I consider my hypothesis to be the most scientifically logical, the best explanation. But this stuff won't save my soul. I believe in Jesus."

Most people don't use "believe" in the divinely significant, soul-saving sense. The phrase "I believe" prefaces a great range of much more down-to-earth understanding. Yet somewhere between "I believe it might rain" and the Nicene creed, all of us have a core of some kind, a belief or two upon which we base our understanding of ourselves.

Several editors working with NPR have just published a second collection of essays that probe these self-defining beliefs, This I Believe II: More Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women. The first such collection, a few years ago, took its title from a series of radio addresses by Edward R. Murrow two generations back.

If you agreed to write an essay that squeezed your most important core belief into 500 words, what would you write? It might be worth your while to visit thisibelieve.org and contribute an essay of your own. The editors are collecting as many such essays as they can.

How to articulate one's belief? Reading the book might be a good start. Learn by example. Here we find the whole range of humanity, from Nobelists such as Elie Weisel to the founder of Craigslist, from high- and middle-schoolers to the very aged, from nuns and priests to the nonreligious, examining what it is upon which they base their day-to-day life. My somewhat rude "I believe in Jesus" statement will not, by itself, do much for me (though I don't regret saying it).

My public persona is this blog. What do I believe; what lies behind the handle?

I believe people want to know what other people are thinking. For people like me, it is the main reason to read a lot of books. For others, it leads to endless small talk, even with strangers. Some spend a lot of time alone, figuring it all out while others party incessantly. No matter how, we are taking in information about others, or ruminating on what we've learned from them. Even the most self-centered people want to know what others are thinking, even if it is only to take advantage of them.

I have a friend who is among the brightest people I know. Not only has he a PhD, his parents do, his siblings do, and everyone in his family except one uncle who he jokes is the "black sheep" of the family. He tells of learning from his mother, "We are smarter than the others. Why should we care what they think?" What she meant, of course, was for her son not to guide his behavior by conformity to public opinion. As I've gotten to know her, I find her intensely interested in others, for a reason similar to one of mine: being able to anticipate reactions. This is not mainly to avoid offense, but to see it coming and plan for it.

People like this friend and I, and his mother, who tend to live inwardly, develop emotional intelligence rather slowly. It takes serious effort to learn social skills that more extroverted people seem to gain easily. For an introvert, being in any people-oriented line of work is a bit like being a prize fighter. You are going to be taking punches, so learn to take them when they get through your defenses, and keep on polishing your defenses.

But there is a second reason to learn what people think, that is equally important. Everything in the human world started with a thought. New ideas don't spring full-grown from the heads of geniuses. Geniuses have a body of older knowledge and understanding on which they base their ideas. Some say Einstein's genius was not in producing Relativity; others also did so. But he was the most adept at explaining it to others, using clocks, measuring sticks and railway carriages as metaphors for concepts others had only explained by equations. His genius was in knowing how other people thought, deeply enough that he could communicate the new thoughts to them.

Human thought leads to new ways of coping with the Universe. I believe that's worth plenty of study.

I got that into 420 words. Though quickly done and a tad clumsy, I think I'll send it along to the project. Some of the essays in the book are probably as spur-of-the-moment (though I've had a day or so of reading the book to let these ideas gel). Others seem much more thought through. I'll mention just one favorite: Sister Helen Prejean's "Living My Prayer" is about learning what she believes by observing her own actions. Such an exercise would benefit all of us.