"I’ve now written [...] and, each time, [...] with a sense of low-level anxiety. A worry that I have misunderstood something fundamental... That I don’t know what I don’t know..."
Thankfully, the rest of the piece and the book itself are both uplifting and wondrous.
Can bees stop doing stuff please?
On the disquiet of writing, rethinking assumptions, and the question of intelligence.
open.substack.com/pub/nicholar...
On the disquiet of writing and the question of intelligence
