Dr. Seuss and Philosophy - Jacob M. Held [40]
But I don’t believe that, which is to say, I’m experiencing genuine doubt. And here is the reason. If you were right about this, that this character of Sam is just a puff of air, then why do I admire him? Why do I empathize with his struggle to achieve his goal? In short, why do I care about this story? I do care about it, and you do too, if you’ll be honest.
Oh, but that gives me an idea, because I remember reading about someone who was a lot like Sam-I-Am. Her name was Saint Monica, and her son became one of the greatest philosophers in Western history. He was called Augustine—Saint Augustine, Bishop of Hippo (354–430)—and he was a handful. He liked the loose life of wine and women and song, and all along Saint Monica stayed as near him as she could trying every day to tell him that he had serious and important work to do in the world and that he should become devout (that’s the ham) and pious (that’s one green egg) and serious (that’s the other green egg). In return, he was mean to her and ignored her and avoided her—in short, he was a contrarian, and worse. But she kept at it, and eventually he found himself in the midst of some genuine doubts. The answers to his problems were the ones she had suggested for decades, and the boy made good. That was over 1,600 years ago and people still read his books, and they even named a city in Florida after him (and one in California after her).
My point is that people sometimes do things as extreme as Sam does, if we don’t take the green eggs and ham too literally. What the story teaches is not just trite sayings about perseverance, but rather it shows us something about the structure of learning and knowing about the world. C’s problem is precisely that he is too numb and too comfortable. He lacks doubt where it ought to exist, and Sam isn’t going to let that situation deteriorate any further. I might also add that C’s sitting and reading his newspaper while Sam whizzes by astride a variety of animals taps a psychology every child knows. My father and probably yours too would rather have read his paper than be drawn into a world filled with the nonsense of my imagination, my green eggs and ham. I admire Sam because he finally succeeds in drawing the contrarian out of the world of belief and into the world of doubt, which is the world every child is obliged to inhabit until the habits we acquire render our doubts inert. Thus, I suggest, Sam is your inner child, or at least the shadow of your doubts (if you have a Freudian bent).
Just Don’t Make a Habit of It
That brings us to the crux of the matter, which is getting rid of an uneasy mind, irritated by genuine doubts. The struggle is very real and never to be taken lightly. You will never come to a place where you are truly comfortable with genuine doubt. What happens instead is that we find ways of avoiding doubt so that we can feel satisfied. The magic of habit is what makes this possible. By doing something over and over, you can ease your doubts. But some habits arise because they help us solve problems, while we acquire others precisely because we can’t find solutions and we want substitutes for thinking. I said earlier that thinking is a substitute for action, but it’s really a two-way street, because action, especially habitual action, can also be a substitute