Thinking as a Collective Enterprise

Many people take pride in believing that they “think for themselves”. However, I believe that thought – in the truest sense of the word – is impossible except within the context of sharing ideas with others. Nobody thinks unless he/she has something to think about, and humankind thinks for itself best when people think together.

Nobody thinks for himself, but we think collectively. We are like the termites that show no organized behavior until their numbers reach a critical mass, at which point they can build marvellous structures together. Each of us is as if a single neuron in the global brain, none of which thinks alone.

Unfortunately, the individualism so deeply ingrained in the western world has turned our thoughts and beliefs into private property to be worn like clothing. We as individuals are either admired for their elegance, scorned for their holes and drab colors, or attacked for their revolutionary design.

I am sure that if anything should be considered public property, like the air we breathe, it is ideas. To quote from my dear friend and fellow thinker, George Conger:

“The birth of a new idea... is as unavoidable.., as that of a baby.., We humans cannot create ideas any more than we can create babies, At best we may only participate in the existing process... Ideas are a creative force sourcing from outside of the human mind hut capable of being reflected in the brain... Ideas are like falcons cruising the thermal air currents of knowledge looking for a target host,.. History is replete with falcons finding target hosts...
“An idea is not unlike a dormant virus,.. (it) will infect any genetically fertile host when the environment is favorable. This explains why discoveries are made in different places independently and simultaneously. The evolutionary theories of Charles Darwin and Alfred Wallace are a good example of this phenomenon... A better example of a dormant idea is that of the planet earth having the shape of a sphere...”

The collective nature of ideas, however, implies that we are also socially responsible for how we think. New ideas, revolutionary concepts, fresh ways of thinking, have been the real reason for the rise of all civilizations, the source of all social and economic progress. Physical works are built on ideas; political systems and institutions are built on ideas; even people are built on ideas (“In the beginning was the word...’).

Of course, thoughts do nobody any good until they are put to work (“...and the word became flesh.”). They are tools to be used, not an end in themselves, to be collected like trinkets and placed on the mantle for all to admire. Much less are they weapons to be wielded in a struggle to demonstrate intellectual supremacy over others.

The fact that they often are used in this way, I think, is what keeps so many people from seeing the intimate relationship between philosophy and being happy. Why should they? If “philosophizing” only feeds our pride or causes bruises, it’s much better to either avoid it completely, or do it like any other sport or hobby, in our free time.

The reason some of us take this kind of thing so seriously is that we do see a relationship to our everyday lives and really want to try to use this tool correctly, and not hurt ourselves or others with it (not that we never do).

Perhaps one reason why “philosophical intellectualizing” is shunned by the Brüderhof is precisely this: the temptation to turn one’s plowshares into swords and one’s pruning hooks into spears; to flaunt one’s ideas as private property setting one apart from others.

To do so would be to go against the very reasons for the Bruderhof’s existence, one of which, if I may over–simplify, is to show the usefulness, in practice, of the idea of community – of having all things in common – not just material possessions, but also oneness of purpose, oneness of thought, and oneness of action, three prerequisites f or getting anything done as a group.

Perhaps the difference between “intellectual philosophizing” and the kind of discussion that goes on in the community is that the purpose of the former is to decide who is “right”, while the latter wants to solve real here and now problems, based on spiritual principles given by Christ and expounded on by some truly perceptive souls. For another example, read in Acts where the apostles got together and said ok, Christ is gone, so now what do we do? What was their united motive, decision, and action?

This kind of effort draws out the blood, sweat and tears of true dialog, not the type of bruises resulting from the senseless discussions that often go on in graduate halls, which begin in words, end in words, and make thinking look like a competitive sport with its winners and losers.

Unfortunately, “organized religion” has not always been so perceptive. For the most part, it would seem that today’s churches are “in” groups, which people join in order to feel good about themselves for not belonging to the “out” groups.

What distinguishes between them is no truly unique contribution to the universal dialog (as in the case of the Brüderhof) but rather the prideful illusion of having exclusive possession of the Truth, with which usually to buy something as dubious (and seemingly scarce) as “individual salvation” and “going to heaven”. (If heaven = happy, might these not be the real hedonists?)

Thus, religion has become just another consumer item designed to fill one more individual appetite. You can pick and choose, or, if you don’t feel happy about setting yourself apart or setting yourself up to be attacked by the “sports minded”, you can even make–your–own or go without, whatever makes you “happy”.

Dialog is different from “debating”, whose entire purpose is geared towards defeating the other’s ideas – a win–lose, zero–sum proposition. One day my son came home from school in tears because he couldn’t understand how the racism he had to defend in a class debate could win over racial unity?

I prefer win–win approaches like sharing, learning from one another, exploring issues together, trying to see things from many different viewpoints, listening and reflecting, what Bahá’ís call “consultation”.

Even gently challenging each other’s ideas in a loving way can be good. I find a good, in–depth conversation like that at least as delicious as reading a stimulating book.

I don't think our differences should necessarily keep us apart. If both keep an open, learning attitude, not just tolerant but downright appreciative of our diversity, it could be more enriching than talking to someone who thinks the same. That is difficult for people who need to surround themselves with others who are as similar to themselves as possible, in order to feel supported and secure.

It takes two things: believing in the sincerity of the other person's intentions; and trying to see things from their perspective. Before sharing one’s heart with another, there must be mutual respect for and acceptance or appreciation of each other as people. This allows us to share our thoughts openly, without fear of having someone use them to tear at us as people.

(December 1991)