Meet Tony. He's my student. He's about my age, and he's in San Quentin State Prison. When Tony was 16 years old, one day, one moment, "It was mom's gun. Just flash it, scare the guy. He's a punk. He took some money; we'll take his money. That'll teach him. Then last minute, I'm thinking, 'Can't do this. This is wrong.' My buddy says, 'C'mon, let's do this.' I say, 'Let's do this.'" And those three words, Tony's going to remember, because the next thing he knows, he hears the pop. There's the punk on the ground, puddle of blood. And that's felony murder -- 25 to life, parole at 50 if you're lucky, and Tony's not feeling very lucky.
Zoznámte sa s Tonym. Je to môj študent. Je približne v mojom veku, a je v štátnej väznici San Quentin. Keď mal Tony 16 jedného dňa, v jeden moment, "Bola to mamina zbraň. Len ju rýchlo ukáž, vystraš toho chlapa. Je to chudák. Zobral naše prachy, tak my vezmeme jeho. Nech sa poučí. A v poslednej minúte si poviem, 'Toto nemôžem urobiť. Je to zlé.' V to môj kamoš povedal, 'Poď, ideme do toho.' Odvetím, 'Hej, ideme do toho.' " Tieto slová si Tony zapamätá, pretože ďalšia vec, ktorú začuje, je tresk. Grázel leží na zemi v mláke krvi. To je ťažký zločin vraždy -- od 25 rokov po doživotie; prepustenie v 50-ke, ak máš šťastie, a Tony sa teda necíti zrovna šťastne.
So when we meet in my philosophy class in his prison and I say, "In this class, we will discuss the foundations of ethics," Tony interrupts me. "What are you going to teach me about right and wrong? I know what is wrong. I have done wrong. I am told every day, by every face I see, every wall I face, that I am wrong. If I ever get out of here, there will always be a mark by my name. I'm a convict; I am branded 'wrong.' What are you going to tell me about right and wrong?"
Keď sme sa teda stretli na hodine filozofie v tejto väznici a ja som povedal, "Na dnešnej hodine si povieme niečo o základoch etiky," Tony ma prerušil. "Čo chcete učiť o tom, čo je správne a čo nie? Ja viem, čo je zlé. Urobil som niečo také. Hovoria mi to každý deň, každá tvár, ktorú vidím, každá stena, pri ktorej stojím, všetko vraví, že som zlý. Ak sa niekedy dostanem von, na mojom mene ostane stopa. Som odsúdenec; som označený ako 'zlý.' Čo ma teda chcete nauči o dobrom a zlom?"
So I say to Tony, "Sorry, but it's worse than you think. You think you know right and wrong? Then can you tell me what wrong is? No, don't just give me an example. I want to know about wrongness itself, the idea of wrong. What is that idea? What makes something wrong? How do we know that it's wrong? Maybe you and I disagree. Maybe one of us is wrong about the wrong. Maybe it's you, maybe it's me -- but we're not here to trade opinions; everyone's got an opinion. We are here for knowledge. Our enemy is thoughtlessness. This is philosophy."
Odvetil som mu, "Prepáč, obávam sa, že je to horšie, než si myslíš. Myslíš si, že poznáš zlo a dobro? Že mi môžeš povedať, čo je zlé? Nie, nechcem počuť príklad. Chcem vedieť o zle ako takom; chcem podstatu nesprávnosti. Čo je tá podstata? Čo činí niečo nesprávnym? Ako vieme, že je to zlé? Možno by sme sa ty a ja nezhodli. Je možné, že jeden z nás nemá pravdu o tom nesprávnom. Možno si to ty, možno som to ja -- ale nie sme tu, aby sme si vymieňali názory; každý má nejaký názor. Sme tu kvôli vedomostiam. Naším nepriateľom je bezmyšlienkovitosť. Toto je filozofia."
And something changes for Tony. "Could be I'm wrong. I'm tired of being wrong. I want to know what is wrong. I want to know what I know." What Tony sees in that moment is the project of philosophy, the project that begins in wonder -- what Kant called "admiration and awe at the starry sky above and the moral law within." What can creatures like us know of such things? It is the project that always takes us back to the condition of existence -- what Heidegger called "the always already there." It is the project of questioning what we believe and why we believe it -- what Socrates called "the examined life." Socrates, a man wise enough to know that he knows nothing. Socrates died in prison, his philosophy intact.
Vtedy sa pre Tonyho niečo zmenilo. "Možno nemám pravdu. Už som z toho unavený. Chcem vedieť, čo je zlé. Chcem vedieť, čo vlastne viem." Tony v tom momente uvidel plán filozofie; plán, ktorý začína zázrakom -- niečím, čo Kant popísal ako "obdiv a úžas nad hviezdnou oblohou nad nami a morálnym právom v nej." Čo môžu bytosti ako my vedieť o niečom takom? Je to plán, ktorý nás vždy dovedie späť ku podmienkam existencie -- to, čo Heidegger nazýval "tým, čo tam už je." Je to plán otázok ohľadom toho, v čo veríme a prečo v to veríme -- to, čo Sokrates popisoval ako "preskúmaný život." Sokrates, muž, ktorý bol dostatočne múdry na to, aby vedel že nevie nič. Sokrates umrel vo väzení, s neporušenou filozofiou.
So Tony starts doing his homework. He learns his whys and wherefores, his causes and correlations, his logic, his fallacies. Turns out, Tony's got the philosophy muscle. His body is in prison, but his mind is free. Tony learns about the ontologically promiscuous, the epistemologically anxious, the ethically dubious, the metaphysically ridiculous. That's Plato, Descartes, Nietzsche and Bill Clinton.
Tony teda začal pracovať na svojej domácej úlohe. Rozmýšľal o svojom prečo a načo, svojich príčinách a spojitostiach, svojej logike, svojich mylných predstavách. Vysvitlo, že Tony má talent na filozofiu. Jeho telo je uväznené, no myseľ je voľná. Tony sa učí o ontologickej rôznorodosti, gnozeologickej dychtivosti, etickej pochybnosti, metafyzikálnej komickosti. Je to Platón, Descartes, Nietzsche a Bill Clinton.
So when he gives me his final paper, in which he argues that the categorical imperative is perhaps too uncompromising to deal with the conflict that affects our everyday and challenges me to tell him whether therefore we are condemned to moral failure, I say, "I don't know. Let us think about that." Because in that moment, there's no mark by Tony's name; it's just the two of us standing there. It is not professor and convict, it is just two minds ready to do philosophy. And I say to Tony, "Let's do this."
Keď mi odovzdal svoju prácu, v ktorej obhajoval kategorický imperatív ako zrejme príliš nekompromisný, aby sa vysporiadal s konfliktmi, ktoré ovplyvňujú náš každodenný život, a nabádal ma, aby som mu povedal, či sme tým pádom odsúdení k morálnemu zlyhaniu, povedal som, "Neviem. Porozmýšľajme o tom." V tom momente pri Tonyho mene nebola nijaká značka; boli sme tam len my dvaja. Nie profesor a trestanec, len dve mysle, pripravené na filozofovanie. Povedal som Tonymu, "Poďme do toho."
Thank you.
Ďakujem vám.
(Applause)
(Potelsk)