“If men learn this, it will
implant forgetfulness in their souls; they will cease to exercise memory
because they rely on that which is written, calling things to remembrance no
longer from within themselves, but by means of external marks. What you have discovered
is a recipe not for memory, but for reminder. And it is no true wisdom that you
offer your disciples, but only its semblance, for by telling them of many
things without teaching them you will make them seem to know much, while for
the most part they know nothing, and as men filled, not with wisdom, but with
the conceit of wisdom, they will be a burden to their fellows.”
― Plato, Phaedrus
― Plato, Phaedrus
This week, I
sat down with my family for the traditional Passover Seder with the reading of
the Haggadah and the ongoing questions and discussions that are the central
part of the evening. The feast of
freedom, as one Haggadah calls it, is based on questions as being free means
being able to question everything without fear.
The written word of the prayers and the story of the exodus from Egypt,
while important, are not as important as that interactive dialogue that ensues
and that is expected and even mandated by the holiday. Each section is designed to elicit
conversations, questions, and thoughts that lead to the participants gaining
intrinsic knowledge. This is in keeping
with Plato’s contention that merely reading is not a way to impart
knowledge. True knowledge must come
through dialogue and creating an internal understanding of the topic at
hand. I have found this to be
particularly true in health care and in endeavors to help people obtain quality
care from our health care system.
The first
step in internal understanding as Plato understood is to ask a question and
then listen to and hear the answer. Each
year at our family Seder, it starts with the four questions asked by the
youngest in the home. My grandchildren,
age 7 and 5, are asked (and were asked as soon as they could talk) to form their
own questions at that section and throughout the Seder in addition to the
standard four questions. Everyone at the
table is encouraged to ask questions.
The questions themselves are always more important than the answers as
the questions allow a discussion to start: a back and forth of the type that is
more likely to produce learning and understanding. Isidor Rabi, who won the Nobel Prize in
physics, was once asked why he became a scientist. He answered, “My mother made me a scientist
without ever intending it. Every other
Jewish mother in Brooklyn would ask her child after school: ‘Did you learn
anything today?’ But not my mother. She always asked me a different question. ‘Izzy’, she would say, ‘Did you ask a good
question today?’ That difference –
asking good questions – made me become a scientist.”
Plato, in
writing his dialogues, often presented Socrates as a questioner. Our understanding of Socrates is through
these dialogues written by Plato. Plato
and Socrates believed that just reading something, rather than discussing
something, could not lead to true learning and could instead lead to an
intellectual laziness which would produce people who “for the most part they know nothing, and as men filled, not with
wisdom, but with the conceit of wisdom”.
Plato tried to recreate that give and take by writing as dialogues. Implicit then in this approach to questions
leading to dialogue is the assumption that after the question is asked, there
must be true hearing of the answers, if only to be able to formulate the next
question!
That resultant listening is really an exercise in
interpretation and then in testing that interpretation with yet another
question. Thus the iterative nature of a
good clinical interview is really no different than a Socratic dialogue or a
discussion elicited by a question at a Seder table. Plato and Socrates believed that only in such
a manner could learning occur and Professor Rabi believed that only in that
matter could unique, creative scientific inquiry truly occur. In medicine and law, that tradition of asking
question and then eliciting discussion, dialogue, and research, is at the heart of education and
training. It is believed that intrinsic
learning occurs in the iterative nature of the teacher and the student having
such a “dialogue” on the topic and situation at hand.
The goals of using such a system of questions
followed by dialogue in health care are to create a better understanding
between a care giver, a care supporter, the person in need and often the family
in need. That understanding then leads
to better, more personalized care for that unique individual. It allows for intrinsic learning for the
patient who needs to do certain things, whether it is to take certain
medications, stay on a diet, or follow through on therapy.
Currently, there are those who believe that
technology can make this dialogue unnecessary.
A professional forming a relationship with a person in need is believed
to be too costly and even wasteful when powerful big data, interactive Internet
tools and apps that are with us wherever we go can be used instead. Engaging in dialogue is believed to be too
expensive and too difficult. Yet we
should share the same fears in this era as Socrates and Plato did in their era:
the fear that we will not achieve intrinsic learning, either on the part of the
care giver or of the patient by the mere reading of an Internet page or the use
of an app. We still need those dialogues
that lead to true relationships in order to create the intrinsic understanding that
leads to action on the part of people who are patients living their lives with
their families, their work, and their friends.
The technology is welcome but only if used to foster the dialogues and to
assist in the development of the relationships that are at the heart of good
practice and good care.
Thus asking the right questions, truly hearing the
answers and using that as a starting point for dialogue are crucial steps in
creating good quality care. That may not
win any Nobel prizes or lead to the entirety of Western philosophical thought;
however for me, as a dedicated health professional, it is an art that we should
continue to foster and not allow to be lost in the excitement over
technological solutions.