Monday, January 9, 2017

Why Common Sense is such a hard thing to find

Seth came to me the other day with the textbook of his latest class in hand and said, "Look, Love.  These authors don't approve of the common sense approach to interpreting Scripture."  (We have these conversations a lot at our house lately.)

I replied, "Of course not.  There's no such thing."  And we proceeded to discuss the idea for several minutes before he went back to studying and I went back to folding laundry.

In a society as diverse as ours -- diverse in roots, in experiences, in opinions, in goals --  common sense is a tricky thing to pin down.  Sometimes it's as simple as holding a full pitcher with two hands (sorry, Mom), and sometimes it eludes us all together.  At the end of a troubling election year and the beginning of a new administration, a lot of people are left looking around and questioning their neighbors' notions of what is and what ought to be. The ardent feelings and and high stakes on both sides have left a lot of my friends and colleagues feeling uncertain of other people's ability to assess a situation and pursue a naturally beneficial course.  "Do they really want all immigrants thrown out?  Do they really want to see all restriction on abortion struck down?  Do they really want . . .?  Where is their common sense?"  

But common sense is a tricky thing.   Based in experience, especially the experience of the community, it's that basic human wisdom that applies to ordinary circumstances.  Some confuse it with natural law by saying that if everyone applied their unalloyed human reason to a situation, everyone would come to the same conclusion, so if we aren't coming to the same conclusion, obviously, someone isn't thinking or at least not thinking in an unbiased manner.  Translated:  they're not using their common sense.  

Now, if you're at home in the kitchen, and you've got a kid carrying the lemonade to the table, then common sense will serve you just fine.  Two hands, and focus on your destination.  We all want the lemonade to get where it's going.  However, the problem with using common sense to approach almost any cosmopolitan situation is that common sense is a highly specific thing.  Common sense is what our communities have used to survive.  However, the places and circumstances that we need to survive in differ, sometimes drastically.  That's why I, living in rural Oregon, have two cars to my household, and my aunt, living in New York City, has none.    Different geographies give birth to different cultures and different approaches to basic parts of life.

On the other hand, another reason that common sense is so diverse is that it rests so close to our a priori assumptions.  Logic goes from point A to point B, a lot of "if this, then that." The "if this" is something unproven, at least if you go back far enough.  Common sense rests halfway between the "if this" and the "then that."

A message from the family mathematician:  Logic goes from point A to point B using a set of premises (aka axioms, aka assumptions) and operations.  The set of premises are accepted without proof.  An example of this would be the geometry we learned in school.  What you might not know is that the geometry taught in school is called Euclidean geometry and that mathematics actual has a variety of different geometries (be glad you only had to learn one of them!)  Each of these geometries have different sets of premises, and thus are able to generate (logically) different results.

People have different experiences and motivations.  This variety in approach and experience is why newly weds have to learn to live with each other and travelers experience culture shock.  The sense we have about the common priorities (because there are common things, common desires, common rights, common necessities for living) is not as common as we assume.   The only thing common sense can tell us in situations that involve more than one background or upbringing is that there is going to be more than one approach to any given situation, and we need to be flexible.  

Take a light-hearted example from early in my marriage.  I grew up in the Yakima Valley, which is a sagebrush desert.  Because of prolific irrigation, it is the Washington fruit basket, but water is still something you use frugally there.  My mother poured the dishwater on the garden every summer and used the rinse water (still clean, of course) to mop the kitchen floor.  I learned that water is precious, and that a little extra effort to stretch out what you have is effort well spent.

One day, I was mopping the floor, and my husband, who grew up in the Willamette River Valley, one of the most well watered places on earth, finds me dipping the mop in the sink.  He stops stock still in the middle of the floor and says, "Love, why are you dipping the mop in the dishwater?"

"I'm mopping the floor," I replied.

"Why?" he asked.

"To save water," I replied.

"It's raining," he replied.  And he was right.  We live near Portland, and there was no shortage of water falling out of the sky.  He also thought I was using the dirty water, which is another quibble entirely, but the point is that he wasn't raised to save water.  Keep it clean, yes; use small quantities, not necessarily.   Because economy of water was not one of his basic premises for survival, he could take an entirely different approach to mopping the floor.

Now when we look at Scripture or at political decisions or third world crises or our teenager's angst, we need to remember that there are experiences behind those words that we don't have in common.  Some of us have never stood outside an abortion clinic and counted the women going in and then watched them coming out.  Some of us have never worked with refugees trying to make a home away from a home they will never see again. Some of us have never wondered our next utility bill would get paid, and some of us have wondered if we would even see morning.  No human being can experience everything, and so no two human beings will have all their experiences in common.  Ergo, unless it relates to gravity, and even then there are exceptions, there isn't much that is strictly common sense.