Stupid Questions

“Do you have a question?”

The boy had shaken his head in reply, slowly. The doubtful shake had made the teacher question it.

“If you have a question, then please ask. I’m here to answer your questions. That’s what I get paid for. And do remember, there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers.”

Right at this moment, as fortune would have it on that embarrassed boy, the bell had rung, ending the lecture.

The teacher had gazed at the boy for another while and then started picking up her notes to leave for her next appointment.

Maybe it was impertinent of the boy to not even have replied that he didn’t have a question, but the moment passed and now, one can’t change it. If the teacher thought it was rude, then bad it is for the boy.

Anyway, we went through the rest of the day without such an embarrassment for any kid but that one statement hasn’t left my mind yet.

“There are no stupid questions, only stupid answers.”

Is this true? How can one be sure?

During the lunch break, while eating with my unwashed hands right after touching my shoes to get rid of a “centre fresh” wrapper which had stuck to it, I was reminded of a conversation which transpired almost two years back.

One of my friends was narrating an incident about another friend; a stupid question the latter had asked.

They were sitting together at the former’s home; let’s name them A and B for the sake of clarity. (I wouldn’t want to name them, considering the stupidity of the scenario to be recited.)

So, A and B were at A’s house. And B there, saw a pair of slippers lying about uncared for by all the inhabitants of that house.

“Whose is that?” B had asked, pointing at the pair, when finally, his curiosity got the better of him. Quite weirdly, his finger was aimed towards the left slipper only.

“Mine.” A had replied, taking no notice of where B’s finger was pointing. (Maybe from A’s perspective, the finger was pointing at the pair.)

B however, had other thoughts in mind.

He then shifted his finger to the right slipper and asked, “And what about that one?”

And A, couldn’t believe his ears. And laughter erupted; laughter, even later, when A was narrating this to me.

Was this a stupid question?

“Whose is that?” – “Mine” – “What about the other one?”

Seems stupid to me.

B realized that it was stupid too, I think, and so he was denying later that this ever happened.

So, we come back to that one question.

Are there stupid questions?

Later in Physics lecture on the Bohr’s model of the atom, I was reminded of another incident long back.

We were in the 8th grade I think, then, only beginning to learn about atoms and its constituents.

“Ma’am, is atom a living being?” A kid, C, had asked.

As you might expect, the class erupted in a fit of laughter while C looked around helplessly.

The teacher had hushed the class down, maintaining a sober face and considering the question with utmost sincerity.

“I think we need to understand here that the classification as living and non-living is very crude. The smaller in size you go, the tougher it is to apply it.” The teacher had replied. “Would I call an atom living? No. But I am made up of atoms and so are you, and we are what one would say, living beings. But the problem is, that so is made up of atoms the chair you sit on, the books you write on, the pen you hold etc. So, if you ask me, atoms are non-living beings, if at all we are allowed to call them “beings”, but a collection of atoms can give rise to living beings.”

“And kids,” she had added, “Don’t laugh at questions. Understand that no question is stupid.”

I wonder now why I hadn’t pondered over that statement then, when this one today just doesn’t seem to be ready to quitting on me.

But another incident strikes me now.

In another Physics lecture, a few months back, on escape velocity and satellites, another boy, D, asked a question which I think deserves a mention here.

The professor had been teaching us about how much horizontal velocity needs to be imparted to a satellite to keep it in orbit at a particular height.

And D then, asked, “Sir, what would happen if I take a satellite up and just leave it without giving it any horizontal velocity?”

The professor had smiled; a slight, feeble, curious smile.

He took a piece of chalk in his hand and said, “Let’s say this is a satellite and I want it to orbit at this height, a metre and half above the surface. Seems okay?”

D had nodded.

“So, what will happen if I impart it no horizontal velocity?” The sir asked, rhetorically, and to answer himself, left the piece at that height.

As anyone might expect, as that apple long back did, the chalk dropped to the floor.

As understanding dawned on the class, laughter erupted.

“This is what will happen if you give no horizontal velocity to a satellite. It’ll fall due to gravity.”

The more I thought about this question, I realized how very trivial this was – how very stupid.

So, in the end, are there any stupid questions? If yes, then why lie to us?

Maybe my father will have an answer to this. He has an answer to everything I ask.

So, when the school ended, I, with everyone else, proceeded towards my home.

In the evening, while having dinner, I asked my father.

“Dad, are there stupid questions?”

“Stupid questions?” He was puzzled, of course, because I asked this out of the blue with no context.

“A teacher today said, ‘there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers.’ So, are there stupid questions?”

My father wobbled his eyeballs and raised his eyebrows in thought and finally asked me, “Have you heard any question which you thought was stupid?”

I replied truthfully. “Yes.”

“So, there are stupid questions.” Dad replied and took another spoonful of rice in his mouth.

“But you need to understand, son, that at your age, it is more important to learn courage rather than “asking the right question”. Suppose you start believing that there are stupid questions. What happens then? The next time you ask something, a fear of embarrassment stops you from asking it. You don’t ask your question because you fear that it’s stupid. That first time, you might tell yourself that this is a one-time-incident and when you have a real, good question, you’ll surely ask it. But believe me son, this effect will be compounded in your head. You won’t try to ask a question the next time. Instead, you’ll try to find replies which will make your question seem stupid and pointless. And one time later, before you realise it, you’ll find yourself unable to ask even a good question.

“So, it’s only fair I think, to feed students the lie that ‘there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers’ than face the scenario where students are afraid of asking anything.”

Understanding the matter, I continued eating, with that question no longer lingering in my head.