The only thing we ever do.

Around the time of the anniversary of Apollo 11, or of the famous assassination in Dallas, the clip of President John F. Kennedy talking about going to the Moon has often been wheeled out: Ever since I saw this for the first time, maybe 35 years ago, I was always slightly baffled by the phrase: "We choose to go to the Moon and do the other things , not because they are easy, but because they are hard." What does "and do the other things" mean, I wondered? Why did Kennedy just presume his audience would know what these other things were? Or was it some sophisticated rhetorical device that I was unaware of? Should I start using it to give whatever I was saying some much-needed gravitas? However, just last week I happened upon a fuller version of the speech: Clearly then, the other things are referring to the climbing of Everest and the flying of the Atlantic, conquering the challenges necessary for progress.  With context, it is obvious what "and do the other th

 "The only way we can begin to try to understand anything better is by asking+checking." If that statement is true, then you might think that it might be widely accepted, that, say, asking+checking practice for stidents might be eagerly accepted with open arms.  You would be wrong. Traditionally, no culture, no education system, makes any formal effort to encouage, practice, test, or grade asking+checking. The reason for this is very simple: any unjust power structure must inhibit communication, to a lesser or greater extent, in order to protect itself. Consequently, what we end up accepting is a world where understanding things better has no common currency, so that questions people should naturally have been asking in their schooldays bubble up years later. And because we lack practice with questions, just asking one and getting an explanation that is novel can be a profoundly moving experience : "What if the moon landing was a hoax?" The following is my answer to