Answers are a Burden?
After my previous mental prisons post, several people wrote to me asking specifically about “answers are a burden.” This is fantastic and exciting. Not only are people reading it, but they’re thinking about it! Wonderful!
In the 1968 television series, The Prisoner, a sign hangs on the wall of a governmental building that says: “Questions are a burden to others; answers, a prison for oneself.” What could this possibly mean?
The Prisoner is a bit like an M. Night Shyamalan movie, but actually really good (zing!!). It is set in a small unnamed town known only as “The Village.” Its location is unknown and appears to be on an island in a temperate climate. The Village is populated by people who “knew too much” in their former lives and were taken captive by their own government to be kept “safe” in The Village. They are brainwashed and beaten into a creepy, “happy” life by their captors.
Villagers are faced with one choice: cooperate with the authorities or face a tortured existence.
The Village produces a society of total conformity and complete submission to the will of a select, enlightened few. No one is called by name, only an assigned number. The main character is Number Six and he refuses to submit to the will of Village leadership, Numbers Two and One.
In such a society, “questions are a burden to others” because there is no reason to ask questions. Everything you could possibly need to know has been provided by the leaders and The Village. No need to think. No need to express an opinion. Asking questions is not only socially unacceptable, but it’s an inconvenience to cause others to unnecessarily think.
Answers are also “a prison for oneself” in The Village because they provide a deviation from the norm. I’m borrowing here from Frank Zappa’s famous quote: “Without deviation from the norm, progress is not possible.” Contrast this with a quote from he show’s star and writer, Patrick McGoohan: “I think progress is the biggest enemy on earth, apart from oneself, and that goes with oneself, a two-handed pair with oneself and progress.” Questions are an indication of independent thought and answers will inevitably take the questioner away from accepted societal norms.
Answers are a Burden?
One of my mental prison keys is: “Answers are a burden. Once you seek them, you’re off the path.” This is different from “questions are a burden” and “answers are a prison for oneself.” Here’s why: life is provably better with a beginner’s mind. Beginner’s mind is a term known as Shoshin. I wrote a bit about this in Clueless at The Work, so I’ll include the most important one-liner quote from Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki’s book, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind: “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s mind there are few.”
The moment we begin to think we know anything, we seek out evidence to substantiate that knowledge. Many years ago, a friend got me into smoking a pipe. I bought a corncob pipe and a couple of briar pipes. Once I started building a small tobacco collection, I began to notice how many tobacco and smoke shops there were around my city. It was surprising that I had never been aware of all the smoke shops: hookahs, cigars, cigarettes, and (of course) those other ones that sell glass bongs and the like.
Smoking a pipe had given me knowledge and awareness of smoke shops. Then I started forming opinions. “Oh, this is a good shop. I like their attitude.” Or, “That tobacco is disgusting! Why would anyone ever smoke it?” Or, “I’ll never go into that shop.” And in this simple example, you can see how I lost my beginner’s mind.
When I think about how I formed such quick and strong opinions for such a trivial part of my life, I wonder how I do the same in areas of my life I consider “important.” What are the opinions I’ve formed and have begun to habitualize in my relationships? Perhaps with my children? Perhaps with my co-workers? Perhaps with myself?
Answers are a form of judgment. They can be extremely helpful, but they can also be so helpful that they become a crutch, or a set of goggles that reinforce one way of looking at the world. In that sense, answers are a burden. They are a mental prison. I’d rather look at the world and see mystery and excitement and awe. I don’t need to know why a seed grows into a tree. It’s far more wonderful to laugh at the fact that a seed can be thrown in the dirt, given some water and sunlight, then grow into a tree or a bush.
How wonderful a world we have the privilege to live in!