Transcription
I'm an atheist. I'm a reductionist, and we have nothing to talk about, and we're going to have a miserable dinner. Why don't we do an experiment?
"What?"
"You heard me. Why don't we do an experiment?"
But he says, "This is dinner."
"Yes, but it's Oxford."
And he said, "What's the experiment?"
I picked up the menu. And he said, "What's the problem with the menu? Roast chicken."
"That's the problem."
"For you, not for me."
"Why?"
"R O A S T. Those are marks on paper."
"Yes, they are, but they say roast chicken."
"How do you know?"
"Well," he said, "I've learned English."
"You've learned English, and you give those marks a meaning, and you're a reductionist. Everything fits in chemistry."
"Okay, you explain to me how those marks convey the idea of roast chicken, and just use the material of the paper and ink."
Dead silence. After a minute or so, he said, "It cannot be done."
He was sharp enough to see that. But it was devastating for a man of his eminence.
"John." Now he's getting friendly. "I have been going to my laboratory for 40 years thinking that could be done." 40 years.
So he saw. He saw through it. He saw through it like that, like a flash.
And I said, "But physics and chemistry, properly spoken, have only been going 5 or 600 years."
He said, "It doesn't matter. You must have a mind."