Showing posts sorted by relevance for query road not taken. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query road not taken. Sort by date Show all posts

Sunday, August 17, 2025

THINKER'S ALMANAC - September 11

How is one of the most popular poems ever written misinterpreted, and what is the poem’s true message about human thinking?


Subject:  Narrative Fallacy - “The Road Not Taken”

Event: The article “The Most Misread Poem in America” is published in The Paris Review, 2011.


Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.  -Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov


When you look back, 20 years from now, at a decision you made this year, will you remember why you made that decision?  Will you honestly assess the factors that you took into consideration and the actual consequences of your decision?  Will you be tempted to spin the details of your past to make yourself look better than you truly are?


These are the questions that are presented by one of the most famous poems ever written, Robert Frost's “The Road Not Taken.”  The strange thing, however, is that many readers of this poem -- along with many who have never read it at all -- believe that it is a poem about individualism, about determination, and about confidently forging your own path in the world.  This common misconception about the poem can be seen by asking someone to identify its title; instead of its actual title -- “The Road Not Taken” -- many will identify it as “The Road Less Travelled.”


On September 11, 2015, writer David Orr published an article in The Paris Review called,  “The Most Misread Poem in America,” where he contrasts the common misconceptions about the poem versus its more accurate interpretation.  As Orr puts it, “The poem isn’t a salute to can-do individualism; it’s a commentary on the self-deception we practice when constructing the story of our own lives” (1).


Before you decide whether or not you agree with Orr, read the poem carefully for yourself:


The Road Not Taken


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;


Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.


Clearly, this seems to be the simple account of one person’s walk in the woods.  Notice the details in the second and third stanzas concerning the two paths.  The narrator tells us that there really is no significant difference between the paths and that they are both “about the same.”  The poem’s last stanza, however, presents differences.  Years have passed, and the speaker is now looking back at his choice of paths.  He now spins his story, telling us that the paths were not the same; the one he took was not only the “one less traveled by,” but it was also an important choice that had important consequences for his life because it was a choice that “made all the difference.”



Image by Holger SchuĂ© from Pixabay


Frost’s poem is a parable about the narrative fallacy, the human tendency toward self-deception via the weaving of fictional autobiography.  In other words, we often look at our past not as it was but as we would like it to be.  We weave a tale that makes us feel good about what happened and how what happened contributed to where we have arrived in the present.  The most interesting aspect of the narrative fallacy is that we aren’t even consciously aware of the differences between the facts and the fiction.  Humans are great storytellers, and the truth or forgotten details are seldom an obstacle.  Instead, we confabulate:  we tell ourselves a tale, creating a plausible narrative to explain what happened.


The genius of Frost’s parable is that the poem’s narrator seems to be conscious of his own tendency toward self-deception.  He says “I shall be telling this with a sigh”; he can imagine himself in the future, (“Somewhere, ages to ages hence”) confabulating his story, transforming it from a meandering walk in the woods, to a dramatic Rubicon of decisive action.


Another great work of American literature that features the narrative fallacy is Arthur Miller’s play Death of a Salesman.  While most of us are guilty of the narrative fallacy in moderation, Willy Loman, the salesman in Miller’s play, has gone to the extreme.  His whole life has been about selling himself to others, and the tragedy comes at the end of his life when he is unable to separate the fiction of his life from the facts.  Willy has told so many lies and told them for so long that his whole life has become a false dream that he cannot wake up from.  It’s a false dream that has engulfed not only himself but also his family.  


Recall, Retrieve, Recite, Ruminate, Reflect, Reason:  What are two possible interpretations of Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken,” and how do these interpretations help us understand and avoid the Narrative Fallacy? (illusion of choice)?


Challenge:  Fictional But True:  We don’t know exactly who the speaker is in Robert Frost’s poem; nevertheless, whoever this character is, he or she gives us clear insight into human thinking.  Identify another character from literature or a voice from a great poem that gives us the same kind of insight.  Who is the character/voice?  In what work does he or she appear, and what is the insight we can gain about human thinking?


Also On This Day:  

September 11, 1297:  The Scottish defeated the English in The Battle of Stirling Bridge.  Heavily outnumbered by English infantry and cavalry, the Scottish army led by William Wallace and Andrew de Moray nevertheless won the battle. In the film Braveheart (1995), William Wallace, portrayed by Mel Gibson, gives a rousing speech to the Scottish troops.  With the odds clearly against them, the Scottish troops are at first reluctant to fight.  After listening to Wallace’s succinct, clear, and forceful speech, however, they storm into battle:

 

Fight and you may die. Run and you will live at least a while. And dying in your bed many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance, to come back here as young men and tell our enemies that they may take our lives but they will never take our freedom!

 

Although the film is based on actual historical events surrounding the battle, the speech itself is fictional (2).

 

Sources:

1-Orr, David. “The Most Misread Poem in America.” The Paris Review 11 September 2015.

2-Hickman, Kennedy.  “Scottish Independence: Battle of Stirling Bridge.”  Thoughtco.com 22 March, 2018.

Monday, April 25, 2022

THINKER'S ALMANAC - April 23

What can two photos shot in 1855 of a desolate war landscape teach us about the search for truth?


Subject: Epistemology - “The Valley of the Shadow of Death” Photographs

Event:  Photographer Roger Fenton takes some of the first photographs of war, 1855


Truth is not relative. It's not subjective. It may be elusive or hidden. People may wish to disregard it. But there is such a thing as truth and the pursuit of truth: trying to figure out what has really happened, trying to figure out how things really are. -Errol Morris


On this day in 1855, photographer Roger Fenton took two photographs of the stark landscape where the Crimean War was being fought.  The two photos are taken from the exact same spot; however, there is one noticeable difference between the two scenes:  one photo shows a road littered with cannonballs; the other photo shows a road free of cannonballs with cannonballs off to the side of the same road. 


The two photos provide a kind of visual which-came-first-the-chicken-or-the-egg question since there is no record of which photo Fenton took first.  Some, like the writer Susan Sontag, claim that the “Off” photo -- the one with no cannonballs on the road, must have been the first photo taken; Fenton then placed cannonballs on the road to stage a more dramatic scene for the “On” photo.  This sequence makes logical sense; however, how can we know for certain that this is the true sequence?


This is the question that plagued the writer and Academy Award-winning director Errol Morris.  Morris is not satisfied with claims -- even reasonable ones-- that are not supported by concrete evidence.  His 1988 documentary The Thin Blue Line, about the 1976 murder of a police officer in Dallas, helped overturn the conviction of Randall Adams, who at the time was on Texas’ death row awaiting execution.


Morris went so far as to travel to Crimea to examine the lay of the land where the photos were taken.  He also spent countless hours examining the shadows cast by the cannonballs in hopes that this might provide some clues to which photo was taken first.  


In the end the answer came when Morris collaborated with his friend Dennis Purcell, an optical engineer.  After scrutinizing the photos for hours, Purcell realized that the evidence was in plain sight, but it had nothing to do with the locations of the cannonballs; instead, it had to do with the location of several seemingly insignificant rocks in the photos.  Purcell was so meticulous in his examination of the photographs that he named the rocks that were in different locations in the two photos.  The rocks -- Marmaduke, George, Lionel, Oswald and Fred -- were on higher ground in the “off” photo; in the “on” photo, however, they were located on lower ground.  Based on this rock-solid evidence, Purcell concluded that the “off” photo was taken first and that in the process of moving the cannonballs onto the road, the rocks had been inadvertently kicked; based on the logic of gravity, therefore, it makes sense that the rocks would have rolled downhill.  The conclusion, therefore, is that the “on” photo is truly the second photo.


Purcell’s case persuaded Morris, but it also provided a powerful lesson about the search for truth.  Look at the full picture, not just the parts; Morris was focused on the cannonballs, the angle of the sun, the clouds in the sky, and the shadows cast by the cannonballs.  None of these was the key, however.  The answer to the mystery was in plain sight but was unseen.  As Morris explains, “. . . it is the motion of the ancillary rocks  – rocks that had been kicked, nudged, displaced between the taking of one picture and the other. Rocks that no one cared about. . . Ancillary rocks, ancillary evidence – essential information.”


Recall, Retrieve, Recite, Ruminate, Reflect, Reason:  How did researchers finally determine which of Fenton’s photos was taken first and what lesson does this teach us about truth?


Challenge - Just Gimme Some Truth:  What is the best thing that anyone ever said about truth?  Do some research on quotes about truth.  Select the one you like the best and explain why.




Sources:  

1-Morris, Errol. “Which Came First? (Part Three): Can George, Lionel and Marmaduke Help Us Order the Fenton Photographs?The New York Times 23 October 2007.


Friday, March 28, 2025

THINKER'S ALMANAC - April 23

What can two photos shot in 1855 of a desolate war landscape teach us about the search for truth?


Subject: Epistemology - “The Valley of the Shadow of Death” Photographs

Event:  Photographer Roger Fenton takes some of the first photographs of war, 1855


Truth is not relative. It's not subjective. It may be elusive or hidden. People may wish to disregard it. But there is such a thing as truth and the pursuit of truth: trying to figure out what has really happened, trying to figure out how things really are. -Errol Morris


On this day in 1855, photographer Roger Fenton took two photographs of the stark landscape where the Crimean War was being fought.  The two photos are taken from the exact same spot; however, there is one noticeable difference between the two scenes:  one photo shows a road littered with cannonballs; the other photo shows a road free of cannonballs with cannonballs off to the side of the same road. 



                                                        Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay 


The two photos provide a kind of visual which-came-first-the-chicken-or-the-egg question since there is no record of which photo Fenton took first.  Some, like the writer Susan Sontag, claim that the “Off” photo -- the one with no cannonballs on the road, must have been the first photo taken; Fenton then placed cannonballs on the road to stage a more dramatic scene for the “On” photo.  This sequence makes logical sense; however, how can we know for certain that this is the true sequence?


This is the question that plagued the writer and Academy Award winning director Errol Morris.  Morris is not satisfied with claims -- even reasonable ones-- that are not supported by concrete evidence.  His 1988 documentary The Thin Blue Line, about the 1976 murder of a police officer in Dallas, helped overturn the conviction of Randall Adams, who at the time was on Texas’ death row awaiting execution.


Morris went so far as to travel to Crimea to examine the lay of the land where the photos were taken.  He also spent countless hours examining the shadows cast by the cannonballs in hopes that this might provide some clues to which photo was taken first.  


In the end the answer came when Morris collaborated with his friend Dennis Purcell, an optical engineer.  After scrutinizing the photos for hours, Purcell realized that the evidence was in plain sight, but it had nothing to do with the locations of the cannonballs; instead, it had to do with the location of several seemingly insignificant rocks in the photos.  Purcell was so meticulous in his examination of the photographs that he named the rocks that were in different locations in the two photos.  The rocks -- Marmaduke, George, Lionel, Oswald and Fred -- were on higher ground in the “off” photo; in the “on” photo, however, they were located on lower ground.  Based on this rock-solid evidence, Purcell concluded that the “off” photo was taken first and that in the process of moving the cannonballs onto the road, the rocks had been inadvertently kicked; based on the logic of gravity, therefore, it makes sense that the rocks would have rolled downhill.  The conclusion, therefore, is that the “on” photo is truly the second photo.


Purcell’s case persuaded Morris, but it also provided a powerful lesson about the search for truth.  Look at the full picture, not just the parts; Morris was focused on the cannonballs, the angle of the sun, the clouds in the sky, and the shadows cast by the cannonballs.  None of these was the key, however.  The answer to the mystery was in plain sight but was unseen.  As Morris explains, “. . . it is the motion of the ancillary rocks  – rocks that had been kicked, nudged, displaced between the taking of one picture and the other. Rocks that no one cared about. . . Ancillary rocks, ancillary evidence – essential information.”


Morris’ quest for the truth behind the Fenton photos is a classic example of epistemology in action.  Epistemology is the branch of philosophy concerned with how we understand reality and how we determine the difference between what is true and what is false. More than just claiming that we know something is true, epistemology challenges us to explore how we know that it is true; it also holds us accountable to explain how we determined that it is true.


Recall, Retrieve, Recite, Ruminate, Reflect, Reason:  What was the key to determining which of the two Fenton photos was taken first? How did Morris' exploration of the Fenton photos relate to epistemology?



Challenge - Just Gimme Some Truth:  What is the best thing that anyone ever said about truth?  Do some research on quotes about truth.  Select the one you like the best and explain why.


ALSO ON THIS DAY:

April 23, 1564:  William Shakespeare was born on this day in Stratford upon Avon, England.  He died on the same day 52 years later in 1616.  Many readers and playgoers are intimidated by Shakespeare’s language, but, as the following two quotations reveal, he had a genius by stating deep philosophical insights in plain English: 


The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. (From As You Like It). 


There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. (From Hamlet)




Sources:  

1-Morris, Errol. “Which Came First? (Part Three): Can George, Lionel and Marmaduke Help Us Order the Fenton Photographs?The New York Times 23 October 2007.


Monday, August 18, 2025

THINKER'S ALMANAC - September 21

What is the connection between the actor Bill Murray and philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche? 


  

Subject: Amor Fati - Groundhog Day, The Movie

Event:  Birthday of Bill Murray, 1950


Cease to fume at destiny by ever grumbling at today or lamenting over tomorrow. -Marcus Aurelius


What if there were no tomorrow?  What if, instead, each day were the same day -- day after day ad infinitum.  This is the premise of the 1993 film Groundhog Day, starring Bill Murray, who was born on this day in 1950.  In the film, Murray plays a self-consumed Pittsburgh weatherman who travels to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to cover the annual Groundhog Day festivities.  When he wakes the next morning, Connors discovers that it is not, in fact, the day after Groundhog Day; instead, it is once again February Second, Groundhog Day.



Image by Karen Burke from Pixabay

For the rest of the film, Phil struggles to cope and adapt to his fate, living the same day over and over.  At first, he faces disbelief, then desperation, then decadence, and then depression.  Finally, near the film’s end, he begins to embrace his fate and look beyond his own selfish desires.  Rather than seeing each day as a living nightmare, Phil now sees each day as an opportunity to serve others.


When the film Groundhog Day first came out in 1993, most saw it as merely another entertaining romantic comedy; however, as it has aged, the film has become more and more a philosophical film.  Could it be that the name of the main character Phil is meant to prime viewers to think about the classic ‘phil’osophical questions of life:  What is the meaning of my life?  How should I spend my time each day? What am I learning from my experiences each day?


As mentioned earlier, Phil Connors finally learns to embrace his fate rather than to curse his existence. Like Sisyphus, Phil cannot die and is stuck in the hell of repeating the same day over and over.  Change comes for him, however, when he stops struggling against his fate and instead begins to focus on the things that he can control.  As the Stoic philosopher Epictetus, a slave who faced much adversity himself, said, “Do not seek for things to happen the way you want them to; rather, wish that what happens happens the way it happens: then you will be happy” (1).


The Stoics called this mindset amor fati, the love of fate.  It’s an acknowledgment that much of life consists of good and bad circumstances that are out of our control.  What is in our control, however, is our thoughts, attitudes, and reactions to those life events.  These thoughts are what allow us to make the best out of anything that happens.


One anecdote that illustrates the amor fati mindset comes from the life of the great American inventor Thomas Edison.  On the evening of December 10, 1914, a chemical-fueled inferno engulfed his New Jersey invention factory.  As Edison stood watching the conflagration, he calmly turned to his young son and said, “Go get your mother and all her friends.  They’ll never see a fire like this again.”


Another philosopher who advocated amor fati was Friedrich Nietzsche: “My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it… but love it.” 


Philosophy means “the love of wisdom.”  In this sense, Groundhog Day is a true love story.  Phil finds love through a relationship with a romantic partner; more importantly, however, he finds love through examining his own life, gaining wisdom, and embracing his fate.

 

Recall, Retrieve, Recite, Ruminate, Reflect, Reason:  What is amor fati?  Contrast what Phil’s life looked like before and after he embraced the amor fati philosophy?


Challenge - Thinking “Filmosophically”: Brainstorm a list of films that you would classify as philosophical, that is, films that help you reflect on the meaning of life or on the nature of reality (metaphysics) or truth (epistemology).  Which one film on your list would you recommend most highly for its ability to get the audience to contemplate philosophical questions?


Also on This Day:  

September 21, 1756:  The Scottish engineer John Loudon McAdams was born on this day.  McAdams’ revolutionary idea was to solve the problem of muddy and impassable roads by using layers of rock and gravel to raise the level of the road, making it more stable and less muddy.  In his 2014 book Brain Rules, neuroscientist John Medina employs McAdams’ road innovation as an analogy for exercise.  Just as the macadamization of roads gave people better access to goods and services, so too does exercise provide your body better access to the oxygen and food it needs to survive and thrive (3).


September 21, 1897:  One of the most famous editorials ever written was published on this day.  After 8-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon wrote a letter to the New York Sun asking to know the truth about Santa Claus, Francis Pharcellus Church wrote her editorial reply saying:   


Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to our life its highest beauty and joy. . . . Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. (5)


September 21, 1937:  J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit was published.  Tolkien began the book in a rather unexpected way.  As a professor of Anglo-Saxon at Oxford University, Tolkien would augment his salary in the summers by marking School Certificate exams, a test taken by 16-year-olds in the United Kingdom.  In a 1955 letter to the poet W.H. Auden, Tolkien recounted the moment that launched what was to become a classic in fantasy and children’s literature:

 

All I remember about the start of The Hobbit is sitting correcting School Certificate papers in the everlasting weariness of that annual task forced on impecunious academics with children. On the blank leaf I scrawled: 'In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.' I did not and do not know why (4).

 

September 21, 1947:  Today is the birthday of the writer Stephen King, known best for his horror stories.  He once said, “People think that I must be a very strange person. This is not correct. I have the heart of a small boy. It is in a glass jar on my desk.” 



Sources:

1-Williams, Mary Elizabeth. “Lessons from ‘Groundhog Day’: More resonant than ever today.”  Salon.com  2 Feb. 2018.

2-Muyskens, K.L. -

What if There is No Tomorrow? There Wasn’t One Today.” Elephantjournal.com 2 Feb. 2015.

3-Medina, John. Brain Rules: 12 Principles for Surviving and Thriving at Work, Home, and School. Seattle, WA: Pear Press, 2008. ISBN 978-0979777707: 30.

4-http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/jun/12/jrr-tolkien-teaching-exhausting-depressing-unseen-letter-lord-rings

5-”Text of ‘Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus.’"  www.cs.cmu.edu.  





 

THINKER'S ALMANAC - September 30

Can you buy a mnemonic device at a hardware store? Subject:  Mnemonic Devices -  “Thirty Days Hath September”  Event: September 30 On this l...