The Pencil Sharpness Analysis Division

Conversation 7

ADEIMANTUS. Socrates, before we continue with philosophical topics, I really must know more about this Pencil Sharpness Analysis Division you mentioned yesterday in connection with Davis’s Law. You say you worked there?

SOCRATES. That is so, Adeimantus. Davis was still there when I retired. He’s since retired, as I said.

A. What did you do there? What was your profession, Socrates, before you retired to the bicycle and the café?

S. You are right in assuming that I did not keep body and soul together by dispensing wisdom at the café. My illustrious ancestor may have done that, but wisdom is not valued as highly these days as it once was. No, I was an analyst in the aforementioned Pencil Sharpness Analysis Division of a government department that cannot be named. I was quite high up in the organisation by the time I retired.

A. That sounds a rather obscure profession. I have never heard of it.

S. You were never meant to hear of it. It’s one of those jobs that only comes to the fore in times of national crisis, and then only as an enabler, although it may be a crucial enabler. Can you imagine the calamity if the nation had to handle a major military conflict, or a pandemic, without the certainty of sharp pencils? It is a form of national insurance policy, if you like.

A. So what did you do there?

S. Let me assure you that only the best people were there, and that they worked with the utmost diligence. There was nothing they didn’t know about assessing pencil sharpness, both at the local and national level. Some say it was a sheltered workshop for the chronically over-qualified but, let me tell you, they were always pushing the boundaries of knowledge and technology, looking for new and better ways of measuring and reporting on the readiness of our national repository of pencils.

A. Do you regard your time there as well-spent?

S. That is a sharp question, Adeimantus. Yes and no. Let me just say that life throws up opportunities and closes off other avenues. I had family responsibilities, and I needed a reliable income. I was getting thin and was relieved to accept this opportunity. Once there, I tackled it with all my ability and dedication, in the same way that my illustrious ancestor went about his civic duties. I am not ashamed of it.

A. But would you have preferred to do something else?

S. That’s a question that is hardly worth dwelling on, Adeimantus. You play with the hand you are dealt. But I sense the deeper intent of your question. Did it take me away from philosophising?

A. Well, did it?

S. Yes and no. It would be true to say that many of the people who worked in the Division were frustrated philosophers. For some of them, I think, philosophising got in the way of their grasp on reality, or should I say, their appreciation of what really mattered. But for me personally, I found some useful crossovers between philosophy and the problems I was working on.

A. What, for example?

S. Well, I did a lot of work on computer simulations of real-world processes so we could assess the influence of pencil sharpness on outcomes in various scenarios. From that I learned a lot about how digital representations of the world might be important for understanding the physical processes behind human consciousness. I’ll talk about it in one of our future conversations.¹

A. You say you got to be quite senior in the Division. Were you ambitious to get to the top?

S. No. To be perfectly honest, Adeimantus, apart from my responsibility to my family to earn as much as I could, I only sought promotion to avoid having to answer to some young upstart, possibly less capable than myself.

A. How far did that take you?

S. It took me to the top of the scientific tree. What I mean by that is the top level at which the science is still the most important thing. If I went any higher, I would be getting into the territory where politics becomes the most important thing.

A. Are you not cut out for politics?

S. I have always known I am not cut out for politics. My greatest desire has always been to seek the truth, the objective truth. In politics, you frequently have to bend the truth to suit some ‘higher purpose’. The problem is, you have to pretend that truth is still the most important thing. It is that inbuilt subterfuge, even hypocrisy, that I can’t bring myself to participate in.

A. So, politics is not worthy of Socrates?

S. I wouldn’t say that, Adeimantus. Politics is a necessary art, necessary to make things happen in the human world of competing objectives. The use of the political arts might even be noble if the objectives are noble, but I suspect that for many practitioners the attraction lies more in playing the game. Politics is not a game I find attractive.

A. You remind me of those two Italian detectives I read about in novels, Montalbano and Brunetti. They both had preening idiots for bosses.

S. A certain amount of preening seems to go with politics. But it is a bit harsh to call them idiots. It’s just that the bosses have priorities they regard as more important than finding the truth in investigations. I do admit that to a committed investigator, politics can look very much like idiocy.

A. Were you well-regarded in the job, Socrates?

S. I commonly heard it said that ‘Socrates is good at analysing pencil sharpness’. Coming from my subordinates or from ‘clients’ who genuinely wanted to know the truth, I took that as high praise. But when I heard the same from my superiors, I knew faint praise when I heard it. I knew they meant that Socrates is not cut out for the politics, and I agreed totally with that assessment. It was the implicit implication that politics was somehow a higher calling than analysis I found repugnant. No, I couldn’t accuse any of my bosses of being idiots, I just could not take farce as seriously as they did.

A. Still, you got to be quite senior in the public service. Would it be fair to say you were a ‘fat cat’?

S. Some might say that, but there were very few perks. I did get to sit at the pointy end of the ‘plane and eat the cheese platter when travelling, which I did far too often.

A. Did you travel far too often, or eat far too many cheese platters?

S. Both. I blame the cheese platters for my cholesterol problem. But I must say, the public servants of my acquaintance, who were many, were mostly dedicated, able, and hard working.

A. So you and they did valuable work? The public got good value for their money?

S. When you are part of a large machine, Adeimantus, all you can do is crank your wheel to the best of your ability. Whether your wheel connects to other wheels to eventually produce something useful is largely beyond your control. Many stars have to align before you can produce something useful, but sometimes they do.

A. One last question, Socrates. Are not pencils a little passé these days?

S. You might be surprised to find that the humble pencil still has its uses in government, Adeimantus. However, the last time I spoke to Davis before he retired, he said they were looking into digital analogues of the pencil, if I may coin such a phrase. He said the question was ‘a can of worms’.

A. Is that all he said?

S. Yes, he clammed up. That was all I could get out of him on the subject. All hush-hush, I expect.

1. See the conversation on The Conscious Human.