Why, More Than Ever, There Are No Stupid Questions.

Whenever I teach philosophy to kids, we start out by establishing some rules. We resolve to always explain our ideas, to avoid “just because”, to be open minded, to give everyone a chance to speak, and to disagree peacefully. And then I reassure them that there isn’t anything they’re wondering that isn’t worth wondering. Wondering is a good thing. Asking questions is a good thing. Thinking about stuff is a good thing. It’s all welcome in our time together. They can ask whatever they want without being ridiculed, judged or dismissed, and if I can find an age-appropriate way to work it into our philosophical inquiry, I do. It’s a challenge I relish.

When I work with kids, there are no stupid questions.  

I’m a philosopher, and it is literally my job to ask questions, even really difficult ones. Especially really difficult ones. It’s also my job to respect the questions of others, to not cringe or recoil when I hear something awkward, unfamiliar, or strange. I’m required by the forces of logic and reason to hear people out, to carefully consider each new point of view before accepting or dismissing it. This is what I signed on for.  

I will confess that lately, I’m having a harder time figuring out how to do my job. It’s not that I’m becoming averse to big, difficult questions. I grew rhinoceros skin a long time ago, and there’s very little I haven’t already heard and thought about, though I’m always excited to find a new way of exploring something, and willing to have my mind blown/changed. I’m just not sure who (if anyone) is listening. I’m not sure if anyone wants to talk anymore.

It's frustrating, because I can see the questions bubbling beneath the surface. They’re running across the back of people’s minds like a teleprompter. Big questions are suppressed, dismissed, pretended away into nothingness. We’re not supposed to ask why hard-won human rights are being dismantled. We’re supposed to stare and the floor and fidget while our planet boils. We don’t get to wonder out loud about why we’re taking one on the chin for capitalism, or why we’re getting sick over and over again with things that could be prevented. We’re on mute when it comes to asking why it’s more important to get elected than it is to solve problems. There’s duct tape over our mouths when it comes to war (and there’s so much of it happening at the moment). If you ask questions, even in earnest, with your hat in your hand and a sincere desire to understand what’s underneath all of this, you are a problem. You get shushed, ridiculed, cancelled…or worse, much, much worse. 

It feels like questions, the ones that matter anyway, have become “stupid” again.

Maybe it’s just that we’ve forgotten how to ask them. It’s so hard, when you’re exhausted and numb, to come up with the right words. Existing and surviving in times like these is a full-time job, and thinking beyond the next day or so is a privilege. I get that.

Maybe we’re not sure what to do once the questions get asked. We feel, deep down, but we don’t want to acknowledge that conversations, real conversations with more than one side, take work. We might walk away from them with an epic list of things to reconsider. We may very well have to change the way we live. Opening ourselves up to genuine dialogue is an exercise in extreme vulnerability, and we are already rubbed raw.

For whatever it’s worth to whomever may be reading this, I’d like to extend the same grace that I do to the kids I work with. I’m one tiny little squeak in a huge, growing cacophony, and in all honesty, I’m not altogether sure how to do this job anymore, but I do still have this to offer: 

You can ask. It’s okay.

You can say the quiet part loud.

There’s room for lots of different ideas.

It’s not wrong to wonder.

Curiosity is a good thing.

 You’re not a jerk or a pain for asking. You just want to understand.

That’s it. That’s what I’ve got. And yes, you’re allowed to get all meta and ask why it’s so important to ask questions right now. That’s not a stupid question. Not stupid at all.

Are some questions better articulated than others? Yes. Are there better and worse ways to have conversations about big questions? Of course there are.  Should we be mindful that we ask in a sensitive and empathetic way? Darn tootin’. Should we keep in mind that there aren’t supposed to be winners and losers in important conversations about big questions? Well, yeah. Should we ask, even if we know we might not like the answer? Yup (sorry).

It’s not stupid to ask. It’s stupid not to ask. Things right now are so utterly, completely complicated. There are so many things we need to talk about, to explore, to question. There’s no way we’ll solve our current problems without being able to ask questions about them. That thing your elementary teacher said about one person putting their hand up, and there being more people with the same thing on their minds-it’s true. And the other part, the part about “if you don’t ask, you don’t learn”- we’re seeing that play out right now, and it’s ugly.

So, what do you want to ask? I’m listening, I’m not going to call you stupid, and I suspect I’m not the only one.