The Senior Common Room at St Anselm's: XVIII. The Path

Mr Blottisham was looking out of the Senior Common Room window with an expression of mild disapproval.

Professor Christopher Quillibrace noticed.

"Something troubling you?"

"The college grounds."

"An unusually broad category of concern."

"That path."

He pointed towards the narrow track worn through the grass beside the old oak trees.

"What about it?"

"It appears to be unfinished."

Quillibrace looked outside.

"In what respect?"

"It isn't a proper path."

"How disappointing for it."

"It has no paving."

"True."

"No signs."

"Also true."

"No official route markers."

"Perhaps it has neglected its paperwork."

Blottisham ignored this.

"A proper path should be designed."

"Should it?"

"Certainly. Someone should decide where it goes."

Miss Elowen Stray looked up from her book.

"And who decides?"

"Experts."

"Naturally."

"They would examine the terrain, produce plans, assess alternatives."

"Then construct the path."

"Exactly."

Quillibrace nodded.

"You have described a road."

"Is there a significant difference?"

"Several."

"A road is merely a larger path."

"That is like saying a conversation is merely a collection of words."

Blottisham paused.

"Is it not?"

"No."

Miss Stray smiled.

"The difference is how they come into existence."

Blottisham looked again at the grass.

"So this path simply appeared?"

"More or less."

"That seems inefficient."

"Does it?"

"Nobody built it."

"Nobody built the first one."

"The first one?"

"Someone walked this way."

"Why?"

"Perhaps they were going somewhere."

"Then someone else followed."

"Yes."

"And someone else after that."

"Until eventually," said Miss Stray, "the ground began to remember."

Blottisham looked at the path.

"The ground remembers?"

"Not consciously."

"I was about to say."

"It remembers through what people repeatedly do."

Quillibrace nodded.

"A path is a record of choices."

Blottisham considered this.

"So it is a sort of communal decision."

"Without a meeting."

"Without minutes."

"Without a committee."

"An astonishing administrative achievement."

Quillibrace raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps the most astonishing kind."

Blottisham looked thoughtful.

"But why do people follow paths?"

"Because the alternative is uncertainty."

"Surely people are free to walk anywhere."

"Exactly."

Miss Stray gestured towards the open field beside the path.

"You could cross the field in any direction."

"Yes."

"Which direction would you choose?"

Blottisham looked around.

"That is the difficulty."

"An infinite number of possibilities."

"Which sounds wonderful."

"Until one must select one."

Quillibrace closed his book.

"A path does not remove freedom."

"It helps us use it."

Blottisham frowned slightly.

"How?"

"It says, 'Others have found this route worthwhile.'"

"Not 'You must go here.'"

"No."

"Only 'This has worked before.'"

"Precisely."

Miss Stray smiled.

"The path is advice without authority."

Blottisham nodded slowly.

"I like that."

"It is also why paths are so different from walls."

"A wall commands."

"A path invites."

"And one can leave it."

"Indeed."

"Which means every new path begins with someone leaving an old one."

Quillibrace smiled.

"An important observation."

Blottisham looked pleased.

"So innovation is simply getting lost."

"Not quite."

"Almost?"

"Occasionally."

Miss Stray looked towards the garden.

"Every new path begins as an unlikely decision."

"Someone walking somewhere no one normally walks."

"Someone noticing a gentler slope."

"Someone discovering a better crossing."

"Someone asking whether there might be another way."

Blottisham considered the worn track.

"And then, after enough people follow it, everyone wonders why it was not always there."

"Exactly."

"Which is rather unfair to the first person."

"Most discoveries suffer this fate."

Quillibrace glanced at him.

"Once something becomes familiar, it begins to appear inevitable."

Blottisham nodded.

"I've noticed that about many ideas."

"As have philosophers, scientists and artists."

"They rarely invent from nothing."

"No."

"They inherit paths."

"And sometimes extend them."

Miss Stray looked pleased.

"That may be the nature of originality."

"Not creating a path where none existed?"

"No."

"But carrying an old path somewhere new."

The rain began gently against the windows.

Blottisham watched the path disappearing into the mist.

"I suppose civilisation is full of invisible paths."

"Indeed."

"Languages."

"Yes."

"Customs."

"Yes."

"Methods of teaching."

"Yes."

"Ways of comforting people."

Miss Stray nodded.

"Each began as someone's first step."

Blottisham was quiet.

"Then every person leaves traces."

"Often without knowing it."

"Which means someone else may one day walk where we walked."

"Exactly."

He looked slightly alarmed.

"I hope they do not discover too many mistakes."

Quillibrace smiled.

"They will."

"That is not encouraging."

"They may also discover improvements."

"Ah."

"So perhaps mistakes become part of the path too."

"Some do."

"Provided someone learns from them."

"Precisely."

A comfortable silence settled.

Then Blottisham said,

"I began by thinking this path was unfinished."

"And now?"

"I think it is the opposite."

"Meaning?"

"It is a finished record of something that is still continuing."

Quillibrace regarded the old track outside.

"A very good description."

Miss Stray watched a student cross the grass, pause, and choose the familiar route beneath the trees.

"Perhaps that is why we invite others along a path."

Blottisham smiled.

"Because we know where it goes?"

"No."

"Because it is easier?"

"Sometimes."

She looked back towards the window.

"Because someone once showed us the way."