Questioning Is the Piety of Thought

“Questioning is the piety of thought.” This saying of Martin Heidegger is among the most profound utterances of the human lineage. An expression that, in my opinion, can serve as the daily (and even nightly) motto and mantra of the seeker of truth.

Just as in the realm of action and behavior, piety and virtuousness have meaning and referents, in the sphere of thought and reflection there is also a need for piety and virtue. And how well Heidegger identifies the secret and focal point of this piety in “questioning.”

Until our beliefs face the onslaught of ruthless and biting questions, until they are evaluated by questioning and critical measures, they will remain deprived of proximity to truth.

Heidegger said:

“The most thought-provoking thing in our thought-provoking time is that we are still not thinking.” Don Marquis says: “If you make people think they’re thinking, they’ll love you. But if you really make them think, they’ll hate you.” William James says: “A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices.”

We are often deceived or we deceive. Thinking in the transcendent sense of the word is very rare. This statement speaks of a bitter reality. Thinking, without constant and ceaseless questioning, thinking, without questioning and measured rethinking of the foundations of thought, does not bear fruit and lacks authenticity. It is in the siege of excruciating and foundational questions that the coefficient of correctness and soundness of a belief is revealed. When in an environment limits are placed on asking questions, questioning is considered a crime, raising questions is regarded as creating anxiety, thinking in its authentic and precise sense does not exist. Thinking is where there is a question.

I believe that the philosophical journey and living philosophically, instead of giving us specific answers to our questions, takes back from us, one by one, the answers we already had. It opens our tightly clenched fist and empties our hand of the mass of pseudo-certain dogmas that we had considered definitive, reassuring, and direction-giving answers.

Suddenly you come to yourself and see that philosophizing has filled you with questions and provided no answers. It is here that one can rightfully say of it: “Whoever saw the heart-comforting one, from his heart comfort departed.” We had gone to philosophy to find decisive insights and perspectives, to read the book of existence and unlock secrets; but we see that the very beliefs whose correctness we previously did not even allow ourselves to doubt have slipped from our grasp and leaped out. We are left with a long, wide line of questions, knots, secrets… At the end of a lifetime of philosophizing, we return anew to the wise counsel of Hafez, who said from the very beginning:

Heed advice, O dear one, for the fortunate youth

Hold the counsel of the wise elder dearer than their own soul

Speak of the minstrel and wine, and seek less the secret of the age

For no one has solved, nor will solve, this riddle through wisdom

Yes, I think that ultimately an honest philosophical journey leads to such a situation.

But is this situation bad?

Lacan said: “He who is not deceived goes astray.” It seems that people, in order to have somewhere to hang themselves, to find a support, a prop, a refuge, deceive themselves, submit to deception. What can deception be but soothing and comforting beliefs, certainties that give you order and direction and banish all bewilderment and disorientation from you.

Mark Twain said:

“It’s easier to fool people than to convince them that they have been fooled!”

We humans often like to be deceived, and we become intensely nervous and agitated if someone awakens us from this slumber of dogmatism. Nietzsche, in his book “Beyond Good and Evil,” considers the ability and capacity to confront truth as the criterion and measure of the maturity and growth of the individual’s spirit:

«The capacity of every psyche (spirit) can be measured by this gauge: how much truth can it bear? Or, to put it more plainly, to what extent does it need truth to be watered down, made-up, sweetened, blunted, and falsified?»

The more truth we can bear, the more robust, mature, and steadfast our spirit; the more we need to wallow in the trap of subtle deceptions, the clearer it is that we have not yet escaped intellectual puerility and immaturity.

On the face of it, those who cling tightly to answers they have inherited and acquired as a gift from their environment, society, and its mechanisms of indoctrination and inculcation lead a settled life. They live with direction and single-mindedness. They know their way and their pitfalls. But as Lacan says, one who keeps themselves distant from the multitude of deceptive answers becomes bewildered.

But I think this bewilderment is ultimately good. Experience has shown that people who think they know existence from A to Z, those who believe they hold the fundamental truths of life in their grasp, develop a domineering and antagonistic spirit and disposition, embittering life for many others and adding to the very inescapable sufferings that arise from the rigid conditions of existence. People filled with questions, people of wonder and bewilderment, are more accepting of others and more humble, and with their utopian ambitions they do not embitter this fleeting life for others.

I think, ultimately, those who challenge institutionalized and order-creating beliefs by posing questions—even in the most ruthless manner—though it may initially seem that they are depriving these hapless people of what little solace, stability, and order they have, on the whole, play an effective and fruitful role in the emergence of a society and environment that is less afflicted, more accepting of others, and filled with intellectual tolerance and forbearance.

At the end of a long and detailed conversation, a friend said something that has preoccupied and engaged my mind for days.

He said: Philosophy does not say, bring your questions so I can give you answers; it says: bring your answers so I can pose a question against them.

This entanglement of thought and questioning is, in my opinion, a subtle and important point.

As Richard Paul says:

«The quality of thinking is determined by the quality of the questions raised within that thinking.»

And again, in my opinion, an authentic educational system is one that enhances the capacity for questioning in its audience, rather than feeding them a set of pre-prepared answers like ready-made food.

If we do not learn the skill and art of asking, we have not learned the art of thinking and reflection.

In this regard, a small but important book has been translated into Persian titled «Asking Is More Important Than Answering,» written by Daniel Kolak and Raymond Martin and translated into Persian by Hamideh Bahraini and Hooman Panahandeh.

Yes, asking is more important than answering.

Fists open, answers slip through the fingers and slither away like fish; but perpetual seeking, scholarly humility, tolerant acceptance of others, peaceful coexistence, and the piety of thought will be among the blessed fruits of this questioning.

When Mohammad Mojtahed Shabestari was asked: «What became of that faith?» the gist of his answer was: «My faith was something I held in the palm of my hand, and I clung to it tightly so it would not slip away. But at one moment, my hands opened... and now there is nothing in them. Yet my hands remain open as a sign of seeking, and faith, for me, becomes meaningful in perpetual seeking.»

Let me repeat this fruitful philosophical incantation once more:

Questioning is the piety of thought.