“Needless to say, I disagree,” said Belore. “What you are describing is simply not philosophy. Practical


politicians determine our public ethics and behavior whether we like it or not, and half a hundred sciences tend to our hungers and comforts. Philosophy, true philosophy, is concerned with the soul, and I use the word in a nonreligious sense. Or, if you prefer a more palatable definition, it is concerned with that section of the mind—and notice that I didn't say thehuman mind—that is not the concern of the psychiatrist or biologist. Its purpose is to give an overview of the Universe and of Life and of Being, all spelled with capital letters. Its purpose is no more to answer questions than to ask them, no more to solve problems than to give new insights into them. I repeat: Pragmatism is a philosophy, but it is not the only philosophy, nor even among the most important.” “Then why do the vast majority of our philosophers seem to disagree with you?” asked Hillyar. “Because they've been conditioned by men like you,” said Belore bluntly. “Besides, this isn't a field like politics, where the majority rules. The fact that most of them agree with you means nothing except that more of them are wrong than might reasonably be expected to be wrong under other circumstances.” “I perceive,” said Brannot, “that neither of us is about to convince the other of the correctness of our viewpoint.”


“I suppose not, more's the pity,” said Belore. “Gentlemen, I think we might as well cut this short before tempers begin rising. You may send more dissertations to me, and I shall comment on the correctness of the arguments, since I have said I would do so. However, I think we would all be happier if I had nothing further to do with them, or with you.”


And with that she arose and walked from the building, alternately feeling younger and older than her years.


“Well!” said Hillyar after a few minutes’ silence. “What do you make of that?” “She was a brilliant woman in her day,” said Brannot slowly. “It's rather disconcerting to see her so out of touch with reality. Philosophy would forever be an art rather than a science if she had her way.” “What gall!” said Hillyar. “As if we had no knowledge at all of Plato and Kant and Aquinas. What does she want us to do—insist that every doctoral candidate spend half a lifetime contemplating the lint in his navel?”


“Let's not be too harsh in our judgment of her,” said Brannot loftily. “Remember—that frail, wrinkled shell of a body once housed a truly superb mind.” And with that, he picked up the next thesis, which presented some telling arguments justifying the economic subjugation of the natives of Broward III, and was soon lost in rapturous fascination at the intricate chain of reasoning put forth.


20: THE ARCHITECTS


...Unquestionably the greatest of the Commonwealth's architects was Ebar Mallow (6700-6755 G.E.), who for reasons unknown seems to have vanished from the ranks of the profession after the completion of the unfortunate Bureau of Alien Affairs project. Nonetheless, that single edifice assures him a place in the vanguard of the history of human architecture... —Man: Twelve Millennia of Achievement ...The ill-conceived Bureau still stands today, and is in many

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