Older and Wiser?

My philosophy of art is an integral aspect of my philosophy of knowledge and life. As a college student, I am frequently in the position to consider my age and education and how it relates to my placement in society.

I consider myself young, idealistic, and naively optimistic. I tend to rely on that as a strength, rather than the traditional societal connotations. My youthful optimism gives me a source of inspiration, the feeling that I can change the world, or at least my small corner of it. Of course, given this enthusiasm, I am often confronted with “reality,” as seen by those who are older and consider themselves wiser. According to these people, I must live for a longer period of time, passively accruing experience, before I am able to comprehend the magnitude and complexity of the world. Apparently, no matter how much information I actively seek out, how much time and contemplation I put towards understanding, I am ultimately ill-equipped to make a weighted and consequence bearing decision. That, my friends, is a load of horseshit.

While I may not consider myself wise, I do believe I have an advantage over some. Strangely, I think that it is a direct result of my sheltered life. Growing up in a small town, in a culturally depraved state (now I really sound arrogant), I have been exposed to certain mentalities and prejudices that many people around me take at face value. I believe that is another curse of youth: the assertion of information and values without the reasoning behind such beliefs. Since being away from home, and out from under that mental totalitarianism than can be one’s parents, I have been forced to reexamine many of beliefs. I have compared and contrasted them against other ways of thinking, and in doing so, have gained a better appreciation of my own value system. This reevaluation has led me to this conclusion: I know nothing.

The older, wiser generations would agree that I know nothing. They would further assume that they know something, and would wish to impart this ‘wisdom’ upon me. What the ‘wise’ sometimes forget, is that they are not finished learning. My assumption is that in most cases, the older one gets, the more one is convinced of one’s own wisdom. This wisdom is affirmed by surrounding oneself with more likeminded individuals. That search for congruent opinion is an attack on diversity, knowledge, and learning.

When I have a philosophical disagreement with someone, I learn. In having a disagreement, both parties attempt to convince the other of the ‘rightness’ of one’s point of view. I know that I do. However, this disagreement is a challenge. In disagreeing with someone, I challenge the other person to convince me that part if not all of his or her point of view is valid. If that person is successful, I have 1) thought about something in a way that I had not previously, and 2) fundamentally changed the way I think about life. In gaining this knowledge, I have been given a part of that person’s wisdom, and added it to my own. This disagreement has forced me to consider my own values and allowed me to affirm them, adjust them, or dismiss them. Conversely, if that person cannot convince me of his or her point of view, I am obliged to convince this person of mine.

When I play chess, I try to play someone who is better than me. I will not learn if I am not challenged. In losing, I evaluate my mistakes, my weaknesses, and my opponent’s strengths. I apply that information to my next encounter, relentlessly, until I am able to overcome those obstacles. I tend to look at belief systems in the same way. If I do not have the power to defend my point of view, then I must acknowledge yours. It is this understanding, this assertion that I will always have something to learn, that prepares me in a way that the older and ‘wiser’ cannot and will not comprehend.