“Correct!” Revisited

I’ve never been one for long speeches or droning on and on about some esoteric topic unless, of course, it was during class and I felt comfortable enough thinking out loud to a captive audience of undergraduate students. Thinking out loud was part of the performance. I like to think one of the benefits of going on like that was that I was modeling how to reason for those young, unmolded minds.

Truthfully, it wasn’t easy, which reminds me of the time an undergrad came into my office, plopped into the seat next to my desk, and announced that she wanted to be a professor. I was flattered, thinking that I had inspired her in some way. Then she explained to me, quite seriously, that, “All you do is come into the room and start talking. So, I figured, how hard could it be?” I wish I were making this up, but I’m not (see “How Hard Could It Be?”)

There’s a story about Charles Steinmetz, the famous electrical engineer who fixed a massive generator at Henry Ford’s Dearborn, Michigan plant. When Ford balked at the amount Steinmetz charged for the repair ($10,000), Steinmetz responded that the actual work, which consisted of marking the spot on the generator where a field coil needed new windings, was one dollar. Knowing where to make the mark, $9,999. Ford paid the bill.

Now, years later, I realize that what I should have told the student was, “Sure, all I do is come in and start talking, but the real trick is knowing which words to use.” That was my Steinmetz moment. It did not materialize only because I was dumbfounded by her remark. I simply sat back and looked at her.

The good news is that I am finding other Steinmetz moments in my life. A big reason for this is that I am no longer beholden to other people for my livelihood, time, or attention. I don’t have to feign interest anymore when a conversation has me wishing I were in a dentist’s chair instead. I can walk away. Don’t get me wrong. I am not rude, but I exit stage left nevertheless.

I am also less interested in what others have to say not out of disdain or haughtiness, but because I can no longer waste time and energy on things that are–let’s face it–fleeting at best and superficial at worst. A lot of the things that interest other people bore me. You may cancel your subscription for my saying so, but this includes the Super Bowl and Taylor Swift. If that makes me un-American, know that at least I am happy for baseball’s opening day and like Brad Paisley’s music. Hopefully, those count for something.

One habit I’ve come across lately that makes my eye twitch is when people tell me that what I have just told them is “correct.” They won’t do it just once but pepper the entire conversation with it. I don’t know if this uptick is the inevitable result of a world obsessed with fact checking and fake news or just a trend like saying “hella,” which I hear on campus a lot.

It could be that people are more sensitive to being correct and will go out of their way to verify what is being said. More likely, though, they use it to control the conversation and bolster their argument. After all, if you tell me I am incorrect, then you become the arbiter of truth and I am an ignoramus spewing one falsehood after another.

Notice the concern now for misinformation and disinformation, which has emboldened certain groups to try to restrict speech and even shelve the Constitution. Honestly, it pains me to write a sentence like that, but it’s far worse in places like the United Kingdom, where free speech has its roots. The whole thing smacks of a sort of totalitarian Gnosticism as if an enlightened few had some secret knowledge and the rest of us had better straighten up and fly right or else.

Honestly, though, I don’t want to hear it anymore, not from people who are enthralled with themselves and certainly not from the “correct” crowd. I may decide to spend my time in retirement being incorrect and spreading all kinds of lies. After all, I am retired from a job but not work. I just wonder if anyone will be able to tell the truth in the future, correct or otherwise.

Image credits: feature by Giulia May. Want more? Go to Robert Brancatelli. The Brancatelli Blog is a member of The Free Media Alliance, which promotes “alternatives to software, culture, and hardware monopolies.”