Doctor Piaget: or How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love Genetic Epistemology

September 15th, 2024

It ain’t all about you, kiddo.

The world is a better place when we act like we know that this weird world we live in is bigger than just our own petty needs and wants–beyond oxygen, water, and warm furs to protect us from the occasional deadly effects of an Alberta Clipper. This realization usually develops fully sometime during our teenage years when we finally are convinced that objects or persons continue to exist when they are hidden or are out of our sight.

We all remember closing our eyes tight at one point or another–scrunching them shut tight as we could, hoping against hope that mommy, daddy, our second-grade teacher, or some pesky district judge would be gone when we finally, reluctantly reopened them, right? Sadly of course, we sooner or later learned that reality and federal sentencing guidelines were not dependent on our sensory perceptions.

It’s a concept called “object permanence,” first theorized by Swiss theorist, Dr. Jean Piaget back in the ‘50s when most theoretical behavioral scientists had been distracted by theories about Elvis’ theoretical pelvis. Experts say that babies develop this understanding around the sixth or seventh month of life. I, however, after years of observation and 50 plus years in show business—or its mid-sized market equivalent—have come to the conclusion that those experts have never stood in a line at Universal Studios Theme Park, commented on a political meme online, had a beer at Chucky Cheese, or been to an HOA meeting at the Villages in Florida. They are wrong.

I think it takes years and years, a few lawsuits, some long stretches of bad performance by our favorite sporting team, months of slow internet speeds, and about half a dozen incidents of identity theft before we really know on a visceral level that we are not the center of this 94-billion light-year-wide universe.

Once we learn that the cosmos did not spring into being from an infinitely dense singularity that resided in a specific one of our several bodily orifices…once we truly accept that…then…and only then, can we become giving human beings capable of altruistic, selfless charity.

Yes, then we can give. We can donate to charities for the right reasons. Support causes that are important to us and others. Join in common efforts to make a better world for those who follow.

Sometimes we give enough to get buildings or entire law schools named after us.  Sometimes we make big changes possible. Sometimes we realize it all ain’t about us and every gesture, however small, becomes part of a larger reality that remains even long after we close our eyes at last.

I started thinking about all this one day as I walked through my favorite park. I was mainly concerned with getting my step count up when I approached a new bench on the park path. On the backrest there was a plaque with an old friend’s name engraved into the copper. Reading it…it hit me hard.

This friend and I had a bit of a falling out just before he died. His fault. He was wrong. I do so love being right. Anyway, I sat down on the bench and felt a change of heart start inside me…I realized that the whole disagreement was trivial. I closed my eyes tight and asked him for forgiveness. Sure enough, just as Piaget predicted, when I opened my eyes…his name, his memory…he…himself…was still there.

I know, it isn’t funny….It’s not really very profound. And maybe it’s a bit self-centered. (Imagine that.) I had that little moment of clarity because someone gave somebody a little donation and that got a name put on a bench…and I stopped to think…and it made my world a little better place. So, to whoever gave…Thank you.

This column originally appeared in Omaha Magazine.