The Senior Common Room was enjoying one of its quieter afternoons.
Professor Quillibrace had become sufficiently absorbed in his book to believe that civilisation might yet endure.
The illusion was interrupted by Mr Blottisham.
He entered carrying two envelopes.
Professor Quillibrace looked up.
"My dear Blottisham."
"Professor."
"I notice you've brought correspondence."
"I have."
"Does it concern the College?"
"Not exactly."
"The University?"
"No."
"The Government?"
"Mercifully not."
Miss Stray entered with the teapot.
"What is in the envelopes?"
Blottisham placed them carefully upon the table.
"They both contain the answer."
Professor Quillibrace removed his spectacles.
"To what?"
Blottisham looked uncertain.
"That's the difficulty."
Miss Stray smiled.
"I think today's conversation has already begun."
The Professor nodded.
"I rather think it has."
Blottisham opened the first envelope.
"The answer is 'Yes.'"
"Very good."
He opened the second.
"And this one says 'No.'"
Professor Quillibrace regarded them thoughtfully.
"Curious."
"Which answer is correct?"
Quillibrace folded his hands.
"I have no idea."
"But surely one of them must be."
"Only if we know the question."
Blottisham blinked.
"I hadn't thought of that."
Miss Stray poured three cups of tea.
"We often don't."
The room settled into a thoughtful silence.
Eventually Blottisham spoke again.
"I've been reading discussions about artificial intelligence."
Professor Quillibrace smiled.
"I had wondered where the envelopes had come from."
"People kept arguing."
"A familiar pastime."
"One person insisted that AI will transform education."
"Indeed."
"Another insisted that education can never be replaced."
"And?"
"They seemed completely unable to agree."
Professor Quillibrace nodded.
"Did either explain what they meant by education?"
Blottisham frowned.
"I don't believe they did."
Miss Stray smiled quietly.
"Then perhaps they weren't disagreeing."
"No?"
"They may simply have been answering different questions."
Blottisham reached immediately for his notebook.
The Professor watched approvingly.
"What questions might they have been answering?"
Blottisham thought for a while.
"One might have been asking..."
"'Can machines present information?'"
"Very good."
"And the other..."
"'Can machines help people become wiser?'"
Professor Quillibrace looked delighted.
"Those are not the same question."
"No."
"But they often wear the same clothes."
The fire crackled gently.
Outside, a group of students crossed the quadrangle in animated discussion.
Blottisham looked thoughtful.
"I've noticed this elsewhere."
"Oh?"
"People argue about intelligence."
"They do."
"But sometimes one means solving problems."
"And another?"
"Understanding people."
"And another?"
"Being creative."
"And another?"
"Passing examinations."
Miss Stray laughed.
"No wonder the conversations last so long."
Professor Quillibrace leaned back.
"There is an old temptation."
"What is it?"
"To imagine that because two people use the same word..."
"...they must be discussing the same idea."
Blottisham looked alarmed.
"They aren't?"
"Not always."
"That seems rather inconvenient."
"It has occupied philosophers for centuries."
Miss Stray stirred her tea.
"And diplomats."
"And married couples."
Professor Quillibrace nodded gravely.
"Especially married couples."
Blottisham laughed.
"I've another example."
"Excellent."
"People ask whether universities should teach students to think."
"A worthy ambition."
"But someone else replies that universities should prepare students for employment."
"Indeed."
"They argue for hours."
Professor Quillibrace waited.
"I've begun to wonder..."
"...whether one is really asking..."
"'What is education for?'"
"And the other?"
"'What is society for?'"
The room became unexpectedly quiet.
Miss Stray looked at him with quiet approval.
"I believe you've discovered why the conversation feels impossible."
Blottisham frowned.
"Because they're discussing different things?"
"They're discussing different worlds."
A long silence followed.
Eventually Professor Quillibrace spoke.
"My dear Blottisham."
"Yes?"
"What happens when we answer a question that nobody has asked?"
Blottisham considered.
"We confuse everyone."
"Frequently."
"And what happens when we fail to notice the question that has been asked?"
"We answer faithfully..."
He paused.
"...and miss the conversation entirely."
The Professor smiled.
"A distinction worth preserving."
Outside, the College bell sounded across the gardens.
The afternoon seemed in no particular hurry.
Blottisham looked again at the two envelopes.
"I think I understand."
"Do you?"
"I thought they contained opposite answers."
"And now?"
"I think they simply belong to different questions."
Miss Stray nodded.
"Exactly."
The room fell comfortably silent.
After a while Blottisham spoke once more.
"I've one final question."
Professor Quillibrace laughed.
"I had begun to miss those."
"If two people continue arguing..."
"...without discovering they're asking different questions..."
"...can the argument ever end?"
Professor Quillibrace reflected for a long time.
Finally he answered.
"Certainly."
"It can?"
"Oh yes."
"How?"
"When one of them becomes too tired to continue."
Blottisham looked disappointed.
"I was hoping for a more philosophical ending."
Miss Stray smiled.
"There is one."
"What is it?"
She looked towards the window, where the last of the afternoon light rested upon the old stone walls of the College.
"The conversation truly begins..."
"...when someone becomes curious..."
"...about the question..."
"...that made the other person's answer seem reasonable."
No one spoke.
The words seemed content to occupy the room by themselves.
At length Professor Quillibrace gathered the two envelopes and placed them together on the mantelpiece.
"My dear friends."
"Yes, Professor?"
"I suspect we should keep these."
"The envelopes?"
"Indeed."
"As a reminder?"
"Yes."
"A reminder of the importance of asking good questions?"
The Professor smiled.
"Something rather earlier."
"What?"
"To discover..."
He gently tapped the two unopened envelopes.
"...whether we have all been answering the same question."
The three quietly finished their tea.
Outside, the evening bell marked the close of another day.
Inside, the two envelopes remained upon the mantelpiece.
Visitors occasionally asked why one was labelled Yes and the other No.
No one ever answered immediately.
They first asked,
"And what, exactly..."
"...is the question?"
