“I was trying to explain the difference between wisdom and knowledge to Derek,” Mrs. Bowman said, “but I don’t think I really got through to him.”
“The difference is simple,” Mr. Magundi replied. “Knowledge is progressive, and wisdom is static. We improve in knowledge with every passing generation, and indeed with every passing day; but we have not improved in wisdom since the first man thought it might be a fine idea to eat that fruit after all. We pass our knowledge on to the next generation, by oral tradition or in writing. On the other hand, an individual can grow in wisdom, but for some paradoxical reason, no matter how desperately he tries to pass it on, no matter how many volumes he writes or fine speeches he makes, his wisdom dies with him, and the next generation must discover wisdom for itself.”
“But it does benefit senior citizens,” I said a bit timidly, knowing exactly what I was getting into.
“State lotteries prey disproportionately on the poor and credulous,” Mr. Magundi replied. “Our lottery takes bread out of the mouths of the very people it supposedly benefits, and gives some of them a few state-funded programs in return. They lose far more than they gain.
“But worse than that, the lottery involves us all in a dreadful moral contradiction. We send thousands of people to jail every year for breaking laws against gambling, but we put up billboards in the poorest neighborhoods saying ‘Don’t forget to play every day.’ If gambling is not a vice, then why are people in jail for it? If gambling is a vice, why is our government begging us to indulge in it?
“Now, think how much better off we all would be if that money stayed in the neighborhoods, instead of going to Harrisburg to feed a vast bureaucracy. Neighborhood stores might flourish, so the old and helpless would have some place to buy their bread; more pedestrian traffic in the neighborhood business district would make crime go down, and would encourage more businesses to fill empty storefronts. Money spent locally makes everyone a little richer. And that’s why I say we need to take the numbers racket away from the state and put it back in the barber shops where it belongs.”
Brielle had been telling us about one of her art-school friends. “But all she can talk about is, like, he was all like this, but I was like that, and he like did this, and he should have known better, and can you believe what an idiot he is. And after a while I just have to like tune her out.”
“Yes,” Mr. Magundi said, “it’s surprising how much we love to talk about the inadequacies of other people. While you’re on the streetcar, or walking down the street downtown, listen to the conversations around you, and you’ll be shocked by how many of them are about the failures of third parties not included in the conversation. And then imagine yourself as a stranger walking by this very streetcar stop at this very moment, and tell me what you hear.”
“What I worry about is that we’ll end up putting in people who are just as bad as the ones we kick out,” Mrs. Bowman said.
“But that’s the nearly inevitable result of picking a side in a civil war,” Mr. Magundi declared. “By choosing to support one of the combatants, we have chosen to throw our weight behind people who have publicly declared that the way to solve political problems is by killing other people. We say that we intervene on behalf of the millions of suffering innocents; but, as a practical matter, if we support one side or the other, we must intervene on behalf of warmongers who are causing at least some of the suffering. The only alternative is to conquer the place and install our own government, which is what we used to do—and you remember how that worked out in Cuba and the Philippines.”