INTERMISSION
THE MEANING OF LIFE, THE
UNIVERSE AND EVERYTHING
Life, the Universe and Everything. What’s the point?
I have always been interested in this question. I never really knew what the answer might be. But in 2003, I had what I thought was a good idea. I decided to write to every professional philosopher Great Britain and Northern Ireland and ask them.
It happened slightly by accident. I used to be a trustee for the New Humanist, which is a sort of parish magazine for atheists. Despite its name, New Humanist had been around in one form or another for over one hundred years. It was getting rather venerable and we were trying to find ways to boost our circulation. Sending free copies to philosophers seemed like it might win us some new readers. We had previously sent a promotional mailing to several hundred Church of England vicars and despite the fact that New Humanist is a very atheist publication, the magazine got about 60-70 new subscribers! Which is a pleasing fact about the C of E and an unusual endorsement for our magazine. Maybe philosophers would be interested too?
Though I suspect a well written, witty and informative general interest magazine with a rationalist/humanist tilt is the last thing they’ll want after a hard day in the office reading dust dry tracts like The Transcendental Grounds of Meaning and the Place of Silence, published in the no-doubt excellent Meaning Scepticism. But perhaps we wouldn’t be able to tear them away from the slightly more gripping journal, Metaphilosophy, which has recently had include ‘ Some astonishing things’ and ‘ Some Worries about Normative and Metaethical Sentimentalism’. Though myself and other readers of Analysis are more worried about ‘ Gruesome Perceptual Spaces’. But most likely after long hours struggling with ‘ Realism Detranscendentalized’*, in the European Journal of Philosophy , at work, when they get home, they probably just flick on the telly or flip through something mindless like Heat Magazine or the latest Dan Brown. Who knows?
Despite the fine quality of the New Humanist, I couldn’t help thinking this was a mundane use for a list of all the philosophers in Britain. I had access to the finest minds in the country, people who (I imagined) were paid to spend all day wondering about the meaning of life, the universe and everything. Judging by the titles of the papers they write, they don’t actually do so but in principle if anybody knows the answers to life’s great questions it ought to be these fellows & fellowesses†.
So I decided to spam them again with a letter of my own. I did not expect them to be able to provide me with an answer. Not the answer. But if they could not, I thought that, at the very least, they ought be able to provide me with a convincing justification why an answer was not possible. And maybe provide some mildly satisfying alternatives.
Thanks to the invention of the internet, it was easy for me to find the names of every member of staff in all the University Philosophy departments up and down the country. For the price of a few hundred pounds of stamps, I could write to them all. Never before in human history has a single crank had this amount of access to professionals searching for the meaning of meaning. With great power comes great opportunity for mischief and time-wasting. I did not want to be dismissed so lightly, I took time to compose my letter carefully and politely. This is the letter I sent them. It was not written in green ink.
____________
* Surely the whole point of realism is that it isn’t transcendental? (Don’t ask me, I am not a philosopher. As will become increasingly apparent.) † Or is that fellatrices?
Professor X / Doctor Y
Department of Philosophy
University of Why
Why-on-Why
United Kingdom
1st October 2003
Dear Professor X / Doctor Y,
As a professional philosopher, I expect that you are often plagued by cranks and lunatics. I am no exception. I have it in my head that you might know the meaning of life, the universe and everything. Therefore, I am writing to ask if you could explain it all to me? Do not be too flattered, I am asking every philosopher in the country!
If God were required to explain Himself, I am sure She could do so in a few eloquent paragraphs on one crisply typeset foolscap sheet, though as an atheist, I have not tried asking Her. You are welcome to go further but I would prefer something more like Meditations than either Either/Or or Being & Nothingness. For the sake of brevity and convenience, please feel free to merely refer* me to a paper you have written elsewhere or perhaps something classic by a dead Greek or German.
One final very mundane point; I am not some highbrow Henry 170
Root and, in any case, the laws of copyright are on your side. But, who knows, if philosophers turn out to be a particularly witty bunch or if you and your peers disagree strongly then I may collect the responses I receive and attempt to publish them.
I look forward to hearing from you,
Caspar Addyman
caspar@onemonkey.org
*As you know, any letter from a lunatic ought to at least include one split infinitive!
I sent it to 644 professors, readers, lecturers, researchers and post-graduates at 37 different universities. Surely some would take pity on a humble seeker after knowledge, you’d think? Surely? A love of knowledge is part of the job description.
In fact, I received only twenty-two replies. It is now over a seven years since I sent the letter and I’ve moved house three times so I am not expecting any more. Twenty-two would appear to be it. Less than 4% of the professional philosophers in Britain felt interested in answering a polite inquiry about the ultimate question. Lovers of knowledge they may be, lovers of sharing they are not, 622 of them aren’t. The 22 who did reply were great. They took time and pains to explain how stupid I was and how the question I was asking didn’t make any sense. But they were kind, funny and thought-provoking as they did it.
Mercifully, I only received one death threat.