28
CLEVERNESS AND
STUPIDITY: Now you clever men, you whose talents scale the heavens, you whom
the world recognizes as wise and competent men, the damnation of some and the
salvation of others - see to it that you are clever enough to endorse your
stupidity!
I will not hear it said of you that you
have no stupidity, for such a callous accusation would surely detract from the
indisputable evidence of your periodic cleverness. Genius, be it noted, is entitled to greater
mistakes than ordinary men, and for no small reason has genius traditionally
been conceded the benefit of the doubt.
But men of genius have often been ashamed
of their stupidity, which is no small mistake.
For it is stupidity which has regularly convinced them that they ought
not to tarnish their reputation for cleverness with stupidity, and it is
stupidity which has so often turned them against
themselves. The unhappy genius, so often
a man who is not sufficiently clever - to himself!
Oh, but there is a salutary lesson to be learnt
from such unhappy geniuses, you clever men, a lesson that will not turn us
against our stupidity. For even
if we are momentarily angered by it when caught unawares, even if we imagine
ourselves succumbing to its insidious influence more often than we ought, even
if we do or say certain things in the heat of the argument which, on
reflection, we are later ashamed of, let us at least have the gumption, you
clever men, to recognize it as an indispensable component in the human
condition, the very justification of our cleverness, and therefore not
something that ought to be entirely eliminated for the sake of our intellectual
improvement.
Alas, how many of us would actually be
improved by the elimination of a component which guarantees our
cleverness? Not very many, I will wager,
unless, however, there are some amongst us who see cleverness in the inactivity
of a motionless 'sage' sitting under the branches of a tree all day.
But we who pride ourselves on a daily
activity, no matter how sedentary, can hardly expect to fare well in the world
without maintaining a degree of cleverness, and a degree of cleverness,
moreover, which is largely dependent, I tell you, upon the intermittent
co-operation of our stupidity.
And yet, you clever men, there is something
about your competent, fastidious, deliberative, methodical, sober, and shrewd
dispositions which has intimated to me that you are not very willing to
acknowledge your stupidity, irrespective of what the latest philosophical
oracle may have to say on the subject, when, as far as you are concerned, there
is very little evidence of stupidity to be found. You have grown weary of philosophical
presumption, you clever men, and now you doubt whether a philosopher can still
be trusted, particularly when what he says has some truth in it, and he is
therefore no less in danger than anyone else of succumbing to the legitimate
influences of illusion or stupidity.
Very well, I concede you the right of
disputation, you sceptical men, since you have every right to believe what you
consider to be of most relevance to yourselves.
But it is still my firm contention that your
cleverness and stupidity are interrelated, so that the one cannot exist without
the other, and that, whatever you may think,
you regularly succumb to stupidity without in the least being aware of the
fact! Hence, you are naturally
disinclined to endorse a view which seems totally contradictory to your various
activities - activities you mostly take for granted, in any case.
However, whatever the final opinion of you
clever men may happen to be, see to it that you are not undone, like the
unhappy geniuses, by your stupidity. There is surely enough cleverness in you for
that!