Insatiable

I find that when I second guess myself, it inevitably turns out to be a mistake. If I make a decision, it generally turns out for the best if I simply leave it as it is. The problem is that I keep turning things over in my head ceaselessly, as a natural process. Even if I haven't been actively thinking about it, so many things seem to be running in the background that occasionally I find a thought surfacing regarding some issue I thought I left behind long ago.

It seems to me that the entire process of inquiry, whether in a purer intellectual sense or based in the nitty-gritty of everyday life, is severely overrated. When a person questions and questions, seeking ever more answers, he finds that there are many answers to be found, but also more levels of questions. At every level of inquiry, the answers become more and more scarce, less and less satisfying. Imagine a child who asks his father why the sky is blue. The answer could be as complicated as an explanation of the physics of light refraction and all that jazz, or it could be as simple as this.

"Because God was painting the world, and when he got to the sky, all he had left was blue."

Perhaps this might prompt a further question along the lines of "Why didn't he have any more colours left?"

An answer might be "Because he spilled all the other colours onto the earth. That's why there are so many different colours in the world. When the sun sets or rises, the heat from the sun starts to melt some of the paint on the earth, so some of it gets mixed into the sky, creating all the interesting effects of the evening sky."

Such an answer may not satisfy anyone but the youngest of children, but by ceasing the inquiry at this stage, the child is left with a sense of wonder and satisfaction. The answer was satisfying and complete, so why bother to investigate further? Contentment follows.

In sharp contrast, the student or intellectual of today is expected to demonstrate unflagging enthusiasm for learning and indefatigable curiosity. The problem with the unwavering strength of this desire to find out more about the world is that there is no satiating it. An academic who can admit to no longer being interesting in new findings and knowledge would be hounded out of his professional sphere. So by definition, the intellectual must possess a desire for something that cannot under any circumstances be allowed to be fulfilled. Instead, he must carefully nurture and control the feeding of this desire, making it starve just a little, before allowing some scrap of new information. Alternatively, he could whip it up into such a size that it cannot be filled by all the information possibly available to him. So the choice is between pettiness and greed.

Forsaking this choice and opting instead to allow curiosity to die at an early stage is anathema to most people. We are expected to commit to learning our entire lives. Old women who learn to use the internet are held up as paragons of virtue, the ultimate example of what we should be doing throughout our lives. Yet, has anyone ever considered the fatigue that must accompany such need to constantly expand the mind? Can the greed of the brain ever be reined in? We abhor excess in the physical realm, it stands to reason that we should similarly detest excess in the mental. This is not the case in reality. Mental excess is considered a mark of prominence and achievement. By this measure, moving away from physical excess and embracing mental excess, should we not aspire to be some sort of human computer?

The classic science fiction nightmare of brains floating about in tanks of fluid while robots bustle about maintaining these pure consciousnesses is the ideal for these suppositions. After all, cutting out the problems of food, shelter and sex has been the target for our modern civilisation for some time. We try to resolve the issues of world hunger, or simply seek to have more food than need be consumed for nutrition, so we can set these problems aside and focus on other things. Shelter need only be adequate, for we condemn those who build lavish mansions. Sex has been suppressed for centuries. It is not to be mentioned, much less committed in public. If we gradually eliminate these worries, then we will move toward the ideal of sitting about thinking all day. Ancient Greece was described as such a utopia, where the men were able to lounge about indulging in intellectual gymnastics while their physical needs were taken care of.

The general dissatisfaction that must accompany insatiable intellectual curiosity has to be exhausting and draining. Maybe sometimes it is better to be the child who watches the sunset and imagines God knocking over his palette.