Developi ng Cri ti cal Thi nkers Edward J. "Ted" Newell (2002)
A Conversion Experience I describe a paradigm transition from secularized university student to beginner Christian in what follows. The series that I relate occurred during and just after undergraduate studies at a large Ontario, Canada university, 1981-1984. Triggers. The trigger of my critical thinking was personal isolation. Simply put, I felt alone in a large university. Thirty thousand students or more commuted or lived on campus. I came from a close family and a village on the east coast of Canada. I lived on campus in a large dormitory for my first year, but moved to a living arrangement with graduate students with whom I was unable to develop friendships. I began to ask myself how to reconnect with people, and I attempted to do so through social clubs, student political events and the like. But I discovered that a religious upbringing had a residue of distance from those untouched by religious concerns. Perhaps as the effect of what was by now several transitions, I began to ask about the meaning of life itself. A deliberate framework of meaning had been mine as a religious, rule oriented teenager but had been left behind around the time of transition to university, deliberately abandoned after serious shocks to its coherence. I felt I needed a new framework to give meaning to what had become a bare existence. Resources. A form of success came my way with my admission to the universitys reputable business school and from then on I found time for the meaning problem. The initial resource was serious fiction. Growing up, I had been a dedicated reader, and with literature I recalled a sense of purpose. An initially exciting discovery of Kurt Vonnegut's work proved of no value for my concern; for me, he fed nihilism. John Barth had a similar effect. Huxleys Point Counter Point showed modernity pointing in many directions. Russian authors, especially Tolstoy, gave a sense of hope but not clear direction. Supplements from pop psychology such as Jess Lair's I Ain't Well But I Sure Am Better proved to provide passing satisfaction. A basic philosophy collection entitled something like Exploring the Meaning of Life essentially dismissed a favorite author's (Tolstoys) religious conversion in favor of language analysis. Arguments that each has to make his or her meaning I passed by; possibly this was due to my search for meaning also involving a search for community. But an Albert Camus piece comparing life to the myth of Sisyphus pointed to another philosophical option -- the existentialist school. This school had a promising name. But investigation seemed to feed nihilism. If I was to be nihilistic, and if by now only a religious answer would suffice, Buddhism might serve. Several discussions with a Buddhist carpenter and a book recommendation however, produced only a resolve to meditate (the prime Buddhist resource). My ultimate resource was a book by British economist E.F. Schumacher, in whose economics work I had become interested as a third-world development advocate. His argument for meaning is in thumbnail form in Small is Beautiful. The fuller explanation in Guide for the Perplexed seemed admirably suited to me. There, Schumacher appeared to turn the problem on its head. He claimed that the problem of meaning can be resolved from a position outside experience itself. Only a standpoint above earthbound experience can make sense of life. Frankly, I have forgotten the details of his argument, but I recall that his half-dozen chapters gave me a rationale for a theistic paradigm that I experienced as a liberation. Process. The discovery of Schumacher's work was the emotional high of my quest. I could understand that one could be a believer without 'parking your brains at the door' -- my concern in the wake of the teen years disappointment. Schumacher provided an argument for a religious answer by showing that all rationality is predicated on a starting point. Emotional lows, barriers and hindrances of the process were the series of disappointments. These disappointments did serve, though, to prompt the continued investigation. I have to confess the fragmentary nature of the investigation. Life itself is Ted Newell: A Conversion Experience 2 fragmentary, disconnected, and my process was irresolute, occasional, happenstance -- but driven by a necessity that kept on surfacing within the time span. I would seem to exhaust the potential of one line of exploration only to take up another one. New lines of investigation continued to suggest themselves. My exhaustion of, for instance, the psychological angle would lead to new openness to other voices previously dismissed, such as articles or books on existentialism (out of bounds in my teenage religion, now a new possibility) or on Buddhism (same). Consequences. As the end of my university career approached, I felt unprepared to accept stable employment. I felt I needed space for reflection. If such a space would also permit a meaningful contribution of work, so much the better. My bolt-hole appeared through CUSO, the Canadian third- world development agency, an equivalent of Peace Corps or Britains VSO. CUSO eventually offered me a position teaching business skills to early school leavers in Papua New Guinea. I was daunted by a two-year stipulation -- a long time for a graduate to be out of circulation -- but my need was significant enough that I signed on. Shortly after I arrived in Papua New Guinea, my existential and ethical concerns crystallized in such a way that I literally woke up and formed a personal commitment to a living Jesus Christ. Concretely, I returned to attendance at a local church. Some eighteen months later I was baptized. In the years since I have continued to ask after the rationality of my experiences. I continue to explore what amounts to a parallel system of rationality. This parallel system of thinking appears to exist on the other side of a divide from secular accounts of meaning and purpose. The system appears to have at least equal coherence with secular accounts of meaning. Yes, the parallel system is predicated on a starting point of supernatural origin. All systems of thought start with an unargued starting point. The question is the coherence of the system. The Christian system of meaning continues to account for the world in a way that to me is as compelling now as it was in early 1984. Witness to the inherent rationality of Christian belief is a host of challenging thinkers and even a culture that survived at least 1700 years. Implications. Raised consciousness of paradigmatic issues may occur in painful circumstances. While Tolstoy's account suggested that his existential crisis occurred in the midst of personal prosperity and external well- being, mine occurred as I asked after ways to connect with peers in meaningful ways. Gaps in an apparently meaningful paradigm will prompt critical reflection. University attendance for me was the fulfillment of an ambition of early childhood and of course an ambition shared by parents. Yet a university setting characterized by numbers of atomized individuals without rationale for community raised for me a possibility of modernitys barrenness. The secular paradigm, until then taken for granted as possessing sure meaning and purpose, began to have questionable meaning and purpose. Paradigmatic issues may assert themselves as outward supports of taken-for-granted paradigms (supports to life or society, possibly) are removed. Paradigmatic change may occur gradually, as alternatives are exhausted. As a learner and teacher, the experience of paradigm transformation means that I ask about the starting points of proposed ideas. In which system of meaning do they fit? What view of human being do they reflect? How might these ideas be adapted to fit in a Christian paradigm? The experience has raised my critical antennae and contributes (I hope) to clarity in teaching.