You say“They’re ignoring me.”
“Ignoring” is your word for it. What actually happened, before you gave it a name?
In the spirit of Alfred North WhiteheadWhitehead Fold, on the compass
Sheet 287 · Instruments
A mechanical device for examining familiar questions.
Pick an everyday predicament and turn the rings. It won’t tell you what to do. It’s a rather elaborate machine for making it harder to answer too quickly.
The Deliberatora philosophical instrument for the examination of familiar questions
Drag a ring to turn it. Press the brass nut to spin all three.Swipe a ring to turn it. Tap the brass nut to spin all three.
Certainty (approx.)
Answer
Unlocks once each ring has been turned.
You say“They’re ignoring me.”
“Ignoring” is your word for it. What actually happened, before you gave it a name?
In the spirit of Alfred North WhiteheadWhitehead Fold, on the compass
You say“I just know.”
Feeling sure and knowing feel exactly the same from the inside. Which one is this?
In the spirit of Ludwig WittgensteinWittgenstein’s Hut, on the compass
You say“Getting a reply.”
What do you want the reply to give you? Could you have that without it?
Directions for use
The maker accepts no liability for conclusions reached in haste.
Patent pending · Certainty not guaranteed
Further discs in preparation: the Stoic, the Sceptic, the Daoist. The maker is in no hurry.
The Deliberator
What it’s up to
Something happens, and before you’ve finished your tea you’ve decided three things: what’s going on, how you know, and what to do about it. It takes about a second, and it feels like seeing, not deciding.
The Deliberator takes that second apart. The Ground is what you take to be happening. The Compass is how you came to think so. The Horizon is what matters in deciding what to do. Turn any ring and you’ll find you could have said something else, and that everything you might say has a question hanging off it.
It won’t tell you which reading is right. It can’t: it’s made of brass and paper, and it wasn’t there. What it can do is show you how many readings one small event will take, which is 216, and that you’d settled on one before you’d looked at the other 215.
They’re the same three questions I tend to start with when someone comes to think something through with me. There’s a longer way round in The lie of the land.
You sent it on Tuesday. It’s now Thursday.
You found out from the photos.
For the idea you had in March.
It’s been on the list since the summer.
They haven’t asked what you think.
You’re still thinking about it at teatime.