Of Understanding

Right at this instant, I am typing on a computer. I am looking at the screen, which tells me what I am writing, but I do not know at all how it works. I think that when I press a button, the computer does something, and then all of a sudden my letter is on the screen. But even though I don't understand, as most people don't, I use a computer ever day.

The fact that I can type on the computer and blog onto this post infers that I sort of know knid of what is happening, but how much does one have to know? I was reading the book "Flowers for Algernon" a couple weeks ago. Charlie told about the time that his workmates were trying to get him to form a ball of dough. Two people made balls of dough in front of him. Charlie didn't notice the big picture, which is why he couldn't form the dough himself. He noticed that one baker was holding his hands more inward than the other, and that the other baker would lean into the dough more. Charlie was trying to understand things that he didn't have to. If he had focused on the dough, instead of the people, perhaps he could have made a slab of dough spherical. In the same way, if I tried to figure out the components of the computer, rather than what the screen did when I moved the mouse, I would have very little success.

When I think about what a doctor has to do in their ten years of college, I get very confused. Why does a doctor have to go to school so long? All they do is look at a patient, and listen to their problems, and find out what is wrong with them. There could easily be a book that has all the common problems people have with the symptoms and perscription needed. The role of doctor seems so unneeded, yet they get paid such high wages and go to school for such a long time.