You know, I am so bad at tech that my daughter -- who is now 41 -- when she was five, was overheard by me to say to a friend of hers, If it doesn't bleed when you cut it, my daddy doesn't understand it. (Laughter) So, the assignment I've been given may be an insuperable obstacle for me, but I'm certainly going to try.
Znate, tako sam loš s tehnologijom da sam čuo svoju kćer – sada joj je 41 godina -- kad je imala pet godina kako kaže svom prijatelju, Ako ne krvari kad ga zarežeš, moj tata to ne razumije. (Smijeh) Pa bi zadatak koji sam dobio mogao biti nepremostiva prepreka za mene, ali ću svakako pokušati.
What have I heard during these last four days? This is my third visit to TED. One was to TEDMED, and one, as you've heard, was a regular TED two years ago. I've heard what I consider an extraordinary thing that I've only heard a little bit in the two previous TEDs, and what that is is an interweaving and an interlarding, an intermixing, of a sense of social responsibility in so many of the talks -- global responsibility, in fact, appealing to enlightened self-interest, but it goes far beyond enlightened self-interest. One of the most impressive things about what some, perhaps 10, of the speakers have been talking about is the realization, as you listen to them carefully, that they're not saying: Well, this is what we should do; this is what I would like you to do. It's: This is what I have done because I'm excited by it, because it's a wonderful thing, and it's done something for me and, of course, it's accomplished a great deal. It's the old concept, the real Greek concept, of philanthropy in its original sense: phil-anthropy, the love of humankind.
Što sam čuo u protekla četiri dana? Ovo je moja treća posjeta TED-u. Jednom sam bio na TEDMED-u, a jednom, kao što ste čuli, na standardnom TED događaju prije dvije godine. Čuo sam nešto što smatram izuzetnim, a o čemu sam slušao samo malo na dva prethodna TED-a, a to je preplitanje, povezivanje, miješanje, osjećaja društvene odgovornosti s temom tolikih govora -- globalnom odgovornosti, zapravo, koja upućuje poziv prosvijetljenom osobnom interesu, ali i daleko nadmašuje prosvijetljeni osobni interes. Jedna od najimpresivnijih stvari o kojoj je više, možda 10, govornika pričalo je shvaćanje, kada ih pažljivo slušate, da oni ne kažu: Evo što bismo trebali učiniti; ovo je ono što bih želio da učinite. Nego: evo što sam ja učinio jer je to uzbudljivo, jer je to divna stvar, jer sam time nešto dobio i, naravno, postigao sam time mnogo. Stari je to koncept, pravi grčki koncept, filantropije u izvornom obliku: philan-thropia: ljubav za čovječanstvo.
And the only explanation I can have for some of what you've been hearing in the last four days is that it arises, in fact, out of a form of love. And this gives me enormous hope. And hope, of course, is the topic that I'm supposed to be speaking about, which I'd completely forgotten about until I arrived. And when I did, I thought, well, I'd better look this word up in the dictionary. So, Sarah and I -- my wife -- walked over to the public library, which is four blocks away, on Pacific Street, and we got the OED, and we looked in there, and there are 14 definitions of hope, none of which really hits you between the eyes as being the appropriate one. And, of course, that makes sense, because hope is an abstract phenomenon; it's an abstract idea, it's not a concrete word.
I jedino objašnjenje koje mogu dati za to što ste slušali u protekla četiri dana je da to dolazi iz nekog oblika ljubavi. A to mi pruža silnu nadu. A nada je, naravno, tema o kojoj bih trebao govoriti, a koju sam posve zaboravio prije nego što sam stigao. A zatim sam pomislio, pa, bilo bi bolje da potražim tu riječ u rječniku. Pa smo Sarah i ja – moja supruga – prošetali do javne knjižnice koja je četiri ulice daleko, u ulici Pacific Street, i uzeli smo Oxfordov rječnik, zavirili u njega i pronašli 14 definicija za nadu, ali vas se nijedna ne dojmi kao prikladna. Naravno, to ima smisla, jer je nada apstraktan fenomen; ona je apstraktna ideja, a ne konkretna riječ.
Well, it reminds me a little bit of surgery. If there's one operation for a disease, you know it works. If there are 15 operations, you know that none of them work. And that's the way it is with definitions of words. If you have appendicitis, they take your appendix out, and you're cured. If you've got reflux oesophagitis, there are 15 procedures, and Joe Schmo does it one way and Will Blow does it another way, and none of them work, and that's the way it is with this word, hope. They all come down to the idea of an expectation of something good that is due to happen. And you know what I found out? The Indo-European root of the word hope is a stem, K-E-U -- we would spell it K-E-U; it's pronounced koy -- and it is the same root from which the word curve comes from. But what it means in the original Indo-European is a change in direction, going in a different way.
Podsjeća me malo na kirurgiju. Ako postoji jedna operacija za neku bolest, znate da to djeluje. Ako imate 15 operacija, znate da nijedna ne djeluje. A tako je i s definicijama riječi. Ako imate upalu slijepog crijeva, izvadite slijepo crijevo i izliječeni ste. No ako imate reflux oesophagitis, postoji 15 postupaka, i Joe Schmo to radi na jedan način, Will Blow na drugi, i nijedan ne djeluje, a tako je i s riječju nada. Sve se svode na očekivanje nečega dobroga što se treba dogoditi. A znate što sam ja otkrio? Indoeuropski korijen riječi nada je osnova, K-E-U -- mi bismo je pisali kao K-E-U; a izgovara se koj -- i to je isti korijen iz kojeg je nastala i riječ krivulja. No, ono što to na izvornom indoeuropskom znači je promjena smjera, kretanje u različitom smjeru.
And I find that very interesting and very provocative, because what you've been hearing in the last couple of days is the sense of going in different directions: directions that are specific and unique to problems. There are different paradigms. You've heard that word several times in the last four days, and everyone's familiar with Kuhnian paradigms. So, when we think of hope now, we have to think of looking in other directions than we have been looking. There's another -- not definition, but description, of hope that has always appealed to me, and it was one by Václav Havel in his perfectly spectacular book "Breaking the Peace," in which he says that hope does not consist of the expectation that things will come out exactly right, but the expectation that they will make sense regardless of how they come out.
I meni je to vrlo zanimljivo i provokativno, jer je ono što ste slušali posljednjih dana na određeni način pokret u drugim smjerovima: pravcima koji su konkretni i jedinstveni za određeni problem. Postoje različite paradigme. Nekoliko puta ste čuli tu riječ u zadnja četiri dana, i svi ste upoznati s Kuhnovskim paradigmama. Pa kad sad razmišljamo o nadi, moramo razmišljati o gledanju u smjerovima drugačijim od onih u koje smo gledali. Postoji još jedna – ne definicija, već opis nade koji mi se uvijek sviđao, od Václava Havela u njegovoj savršeno spektakularnoj knjizi "Slamanje mira" u kojoj on kaže da se nada ne sastoji od očekivanja da će stvari ispasti baš kako treba, već od očekivanja da će imati smisla bez obzira na to kako ispadnu.
I can't tell you how reassured I was by the very last sentence in that glorious presentation by Dean Kamen a few days ago. I wasn't sure I heard it right, so I found him in one of the inter-sessions. He was talking to a very large man, but I didn't care. I interrupted, and I said, "Did you say this?" He said, "I think so." So, here's what it is: I'll repeat it. "The world will not be saved by the Internet." It's wonderful. Do you know what the world will be saved by? I'll tell you. It'll be saved by the human spirit. And by the human spirit, I don't mean anything divine, I don't mean anything supernatural -- certainly not coming from this skeptic. What I mean is this ability that each of us has to be something greater than herself or himself; to arise out of our ordinary selves and achieve something that at the beginning we thought perhaps we were not capable of. On an elemental level, we have all felt that spirituality at the time of childbirth. Some of you have felt it in laboratories; some of you have felt it at the workbench. We feel it at concerts. I've felt it in the operating room, at the bedside. It is an elevation of us beyond ourselves. And I think that it's going to be, in time, the elements of the human spirit that we've been hearing about bit by bit by bit from so many of the speakers in the last few days. And if there's anything that has permeated this room, it is precisely that.
Ne mogu vam opisati koliko sam ohrabren bio posljednjom rečenicom u sjajnoj prezentaciji Deana Kamena otprije nekoliko dana. Nisam bio siguran da sam dobro čuo, pa sam ga potražio u jednoj od pauza. Pričao je s vrlo krupnim čovjekom, ali nisam mario. Prekinuo sam i upitao: "Jeste li to rekli?" On je rekao: "Mislim da jesam." Pa, evo što je rekao: ponovit ću. "Internet neće spasiti svijet." To je prekrasno. Znate li što će spasiti svijet? Reći ću vam. Svijet će spasiti ljudski duh. A pod ljudskim duhom ne mislim ništa božanski, ne mislim ništa nadnaravno -- svakako ne od ovog skeptika. Mislim na sposobnost koju ima svatko od nas a to je da bude nešto veće od sebe; da se izdigne iznad svog običnog ja i postigne nešto što smo na početku mislili da nismo u stanju. Na elementarnoj razini, svi smo osjetili tu duhovnost u vrijeme rođenja. Neki među vama su je osjetili u laboratorijima; neki su je osjetili na radnoj klupi. Osjećamo je na koncertima. Osjetio sam je u operacijskoj dvorani, uz postelju. Ona je rast iznad nas samih. I mislim kako će to biti, s vremenom, elementi ljudskog duha o kojima smo slušali dio po dio po dio od toliko govornika posljednjih dana. I ako je išta natopilo ovu prostoriju, onda je to baš to.
I'm intrigued by a concept that was brought to life in the early part of the 19th century -- actually, in the second decade of the 19th century -- by a 27-year-old poet whose name was Percy Shelley. Now, we all think that Shelley obviously is the great romantic poet that he was; many of us tend to forget that he wrote some perfectly wonderful essays, too, and the most well-remembered essay is one called "A Defence of Poetry." Now, it's about five, six, seven, eight pages long, and it gets kind of deep and difficult after about the third page, but somewhere on the second page he begins talking about the notion that he calls "moral imagination." And here's what he says, roughly translated: A man -- generic man -- a man, to be greatly good, must imagine clearly. He must see himself and the world through the eyes of another, and of many others. See himself and the world -- not just the world, but see himself.
Intrigira me koncept kojega je stvorio rano u 19. stoljeću -- zapravo, u drugom desetljeću 19. stoljeća -- 27-godišnji pjesnik po imenu Percy Shelley. Sad, svi smatramo da je Shelley veliki romantični pjesnik što on i jest; mnogi su skloni zaboraviti da je napisao i neke savršeno divne eseje, a najpoznatiji esej je "Obrana poezije". On je nekih pet, šest, sedam, osam stranica dug, i postaje nekako dubok i težak nakon treće stranice, ali negdje na drugoj stranici on počinje pričati o ideji koju naziva "moralna mašta". I evo što kaže, u grubom prijevodu: Čovjek – obični čovjek -- čovjek da bi bio velik u dobroti, mora jasno zamišljati. Mora vidjeti sebe i svijet kroz oči drugoga, kroz oči mnogih drugih. Vidjeti sebe i svijet – ne samo svijet, već i sebe.
What is it that is expected of us by the billions of people who live in what Laurie Garrett the other day so appropriately called despair and disparity? What is it that they have every right to ask of us? What is it that we have every right to ask of ourselves, out of our shared humanity and out of the human spirit? Well, you know precisely what it is. There's a great deal of argument about whether we, as the great nation that we are, should be the policeman of the world, the world's constabulary, but there should be virtually no argument about whether we should be the world's healer. There has certainly been no argument about that in this room in the past four days.
Što to od nas očekuju milijarde ljudi koji žive u onome što je Laurie Garrett neki dan tako prikladno nazvala očaj i nejednakost? Što je to što imaju svako pravo zahtijevati od nas? Što je to što mi imamo svako pravo tražiti od sebe, zbog zajedničke ljudskosti i zbog ljudskoga duha? Pa, znate točno što je to. Vode se velike rasprave o tome da li mi, kao velika nacija kakva jesmo, trebamo biti svjetski policajac, redarstvenik svijeta, ali praktički ne bi trebalo biti nikakve rasprave o tome trebamo li biti iscjelitelji svijeta. O tome se svakako nije prepiralo u ovoj sali u protekla četiri dana.
So, if we are to be the world's healer, every disadvantaged person in this world -- including in the United States -- becomes our patient. Every disadvantaged nation, and perhaps our own nation, becomes our patient. So, it's fun to think about the etymology of the word "patient." It comes initially from the Latin patior, to endure, or to suffer. So, you go back to the old Indo-European root again, and what do you find? The Indo-European stem is pronounced payen -- we would spell it P-A-E-N -- and, lo and behold, mirabile dictu, it is the same root as the word compassion comes from, P-A-E-N.
Dakle, ako ćemo biti svjetski iscjelitelj, svaka ugrožena osoba na svijetu -- uključujući one u Sjedinjenim Državama – postaje naš pacijent. Svaka ugrožena nacija, možda i naša vlastita, postaje naš pacijent. Pa je zabavno razmišljati o etimologiji riječi "pacijent". Izvorno dolazi od latinskog patior, izdržati, ili trpjeti. Pa se vratite opet do indoeuropskih korijena, i otkrijete da se indoeuropska osnova kaže pejen -- napisali bismo to P-A-E-N -- i, mirabili dictu, korijen je isti kao kod riječi suosjećanje, P-A-E-N.
So, the lesson is very clear. The lesson is that our patient -- the world, and the disadvantaged of the world -- that patient deserves our compassion. But beyond our compassion, and far greater than compassion, is our moral imagination and our identification with each individual who lives in that world, not to think of them as a huge forest, but as individual trees. Of course, in this day and age, the trick is not to let each tree be obscured by that Bush in Washington that can get -- can get in the way. (Laughter) So, here we are. We are, should be, morally committed to being the healer of the world. And we have had examples over and over and over again -- you've just heard one in the last 15 minutes -- of people who have not only had that commitment, but had the charisma, the brilliance -- and I think in this room it's easy to use the word brilliant, my God -- the brilliance to succeed at least at the beginning of their quest, and who no doubt will continue to succeed, as long as more and more of us enlist ourselves in their cause.
Lekcija je vrlo jasna. Ona kaže da naš pacijent -- svijet, i ugroženi u svijetu -- ti pacijenti zaslužuju naše suosjećanje. Ali i više od suosjećanja, puno više od suosjećanja je naša moralna mašta i naše identificiranje sa svakim pojedincem koji živi u tom svijetu, kako ne bismo o njima mislili kao o ogromnoj šumi, nego kao o zasebnom drveću. Naravno, u naše doba trik je ne dopustiti da svako drvo bude zaklonjeno tim Bushem (bush = grm) u Washingtonu koji -- se može naći između. (Smijeh) Evo tu smo. Mi smo, trebali bismo biti, moralno predani tome da budemo iscjelitelji svijeta. A čuli smo primjere, i opet, i opet -- čuli ste jedan u zadnjih 15 minuta -- o ljudima koji nisu samo bili predani, već imaju karizmu i briljantni su -- a u ovoj prostoriji mislim da je lako koristiti riječ briljantan, zaboga -- briljantnost da uspiju barem na početku njihove potrage, i koji će nedvojbeno nastaviti uspijevati, sve dok se sve više i više nas ne pridruži njihovom cilju.
Now, if we're talking about medicine, and we're talking about healing, I'd like to quote someone who hasn't been quoted. It seems to me everybody in the world's been quoted here: Pogo's been quoted; Shakespeare's been quoted backwards, forwards, inside out. I would like to quote one of my own household gods. I suspect he never really said this, because we don't know what Hippocrates really said, but we do know for sure that one of the great Greek physicians said the following, and it has been recorded in one of the books attributed to Hippocrates, and the book is called "Precepts." And I'll read you what it is. Remember, I have been talking about, essentially philanthropy: the love of humankind, the individual humankind and the individual humankind that can bring that kind of love translated into action, translated, in some cases, into enlightened self-interest. And here he is, 2,400 years ago: "Where there is love of humankind, there is love of healing." We have seen that here today with the sense, with the sensitivity -- and in the last three days, and with the power of the indomitable human spirit. Thank you very much. (Applause)
Sad, ako govorimo o medicini, a govorimo o liječenju, volio bih citirati nekoga koga još nismo citirali. Čini mi se da smo svakoga na svijetu ovdje citirali: Citirali smo Pogoa; Shakespearea smo citirali naprijed, nazad i naopačke. Volio bih citirati jednoga od mojih kućnih bogova. Pretpostavljam da nikada ovo nije stvarno rekao, jer ne znamo što je Hipokrat zaista rekao, ali znamo sigurno da je jedan od velikih grčkih liječnika rekao sljedeće, a to je zabilježeno u jednoj od knjiga pripisanih Hipokratu, knjizi pod nazivom "Pravila". Pročitat ću vam što je to. Sjetite se, u suštini, govorio sam o filantropiji: ljubavi za čovječanstvo, za pojedine ljude a to je ono što može donijeti ljubav koja se pretvara u djelovanje, koja prelazi, ponekad, u prosvijetljeni osobni interes. Evo citata, otprije 2400 godina: "Gdje postoji ljubav za čovječanstvo, postoji i ljubav za liječenje." Vidjeli smo to danas ovdje s osjećajem, s osjećajnošću -- kao i u posljednja tri dana, i sa snagom nepokorivog ljudskog duha. Hvala vam mnogo. (Pljesak)