Dr. Seuss and Philosophy - Jacob M. Held [96]
We know that this kind of thing can happen, so by thinking about the Grinch and his kind, we are not just speculating on one particular make-believe character, a fanciful product of one creative man’s vivid imagination. This sort of thing is not simply make-believe. Nevertheless, the phenomenon is always remarkable because, after all, people rightly say that it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks. Well-entrenched characters tend to resist amendment, gradual or otherwise. In this light, understanding how and why people might experience a profound change of heart can help put some flesh on the bones of a better understanding of something extraordinary about us—our capacity for change for the better against such tall odds. And this kind of appreciation might also say something meaningful about our ethical attachments and commitments in general. So with this in mind, let’s see if we can understand the Grinch and his kind.
The Grinch’s Change of Heart: Some General Anatomy
First of all, notice that we can separate some important elements of such stories. For one thing, changes can always vary greatly so far as the sheer extent of the change is concerned. In a word, people can change just a little, and they can change a whole lot. Obviously, the big changes are usually the most remarkable ones, but even small changes can be most welcome as an initial step in the right direction. As they say, long journeys start with the first step.
Moreover, aside from the sheer amplitude of a change, alterations can be a matter of degree or a matter of kind. For instance, if I’ve always given $20 a year to the poor and I suddenly increase my contribution to $20,000, the change is a big one, but it is fundamentally a matter of degree: In this case, I do more of what I’ve always done. However, if I have never given to the poor in my whole life and I suddenly change my ways, then the change is not just a matter of degree, but a change in kind: I do something different, something I’ve never done before, and not simply more of what I’ve always done. Notice that in the Grinch’s case, the change is a change in kind and it’s also a big one. He goes from hating a Who-ville Christmas to happily joining their celebration of the holiday.
Changes can also vary in terms of their pace. In this sense, think about human bodies. We certainly expect them to change. If we found a group of octogenarians who looked just like twenty-somethings, we’d be very surprised (and no doubt they’d be very pleased). On the other hand, if we suddenly aged twenty years overnight, we’d be shocked (and dismayed). Where the body is concerned, we expect most changes associated with aging to be fairly gradual, even if they are virtually inevitable. For the most part, we expect as much of human character, whether the changes are for the better or the worse. Rapid character changes tend to be the great exception, rather than the norm, particularly where changes for the better are concerned. This makes sense because, like a house of cards, it takes a lot longer to build character than to knock it down.
Notice that the most extraordinary changes of heart are like the Grinch’s: profound changes in kind that take place over a relatively short period of time. In the Grinch’s particular case, the change seems just shy of instantaneous. From the top of Mount Crumpit, he listens on Christmas morning and hears the denizens of Who-ville singing despite the fact that he has stolen all their presents and Christmas trappings. He puzzles over the paradox until his “puzzler” is sore because he was certain that his scheme would obliterate their Christmas. Finally he comes around to the idea that maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store. Perhaps, Christmas means a little bit more than