Autobiographical Analysis of Critical Thinking
for Prof. Stephen Brookfield
A Conversion Experience
I describe a paradigm transition from secularized
university student to beginner Christian in what follows.
The series that I relate occurred during and just after
undergraduate studies at a large Ontario, Canada
university, 1981-1984.
Triggers.
The trigger of my critical thinking was personal
isolation. Simply put, I felt alone in a large university.
Thirty thousand students or more commuted or lived on
campus. I came from a close family and a village on the
east coast of Canada. I lived on campus in a large
dormitory for my first year, but moved to a living
arrangement with graduate students with whom I was
unable to develop friendships. I began to ask myself how
to reconnect with people, and I attempted to do so
through social clubs, student political events and the like.
But I discovered that a religious upbringing had a residue
of distance from those untouched by religious concerns.
Perhaps as the effect of what was by now several
transitions, I began to ask about the meaning of life
itself. A deliberate framework of meaning had been mine
as a religious, rule oriented teenager but had been left
behind around the time of transition to university,
deliberately abandoned after serious shocks to its
coherence. I felt I needed a new framework to give
meaning to what had become a bare existence.
Resources.
A form of success came my way with my admission to
the university’s reputable business school and from then
on I found time for the meaning problem. The initial
resource was serious fiction. Growing up, I had been a
dedicated reader, and with literature I recalled a sense of
purpose. An initially exciting discovery of Kurt
Vonnegut's work proved of no value for my concern; for
me, he fed nihilism. John Barth had a similar effect.
Huxley’s Point Counter Point showed modernity
pointing in many directions. Russian authors, especially
Tolstoy, gave a sense of hope but not clear direction.
Supplements from pop psychology such as Jess Lair's I
Ain't Well But I Sure Am Better proved to provide
“Developing Critical Thinkers”
Edward J. "Ted" Newell (2002)
passing satisfaction. A basic philosophy collection
entitled something like Exploring the Meaning of Life
essentially dismissed a favorite author's (Tolstoy’s)
religious conversion in favor of language analysis.
Arguments that each has to make his or her meaning I
passed by; possibly this was due to my search for
meaning also involving a search for community. But an
Albert Camus piece comparing life to the myth of
Sisyphus pointed to another philosophical option -- the
existentialist school. This school had a promising name.
But investigation seemed to feed nihilism. If I was to be
nihilistic, and if by now only a religious answer would
suffice, Buddhism might serve. Several discussions with
a Buddhist carpenter and a book recommendation
however, produced only a resolve to meditate (the prime
Buddhist resource).
My ultimate resource was a book by British economist
E.F. Schumacher, in whose economics work I had
become interested as a third-world development
advocate. His argument for meaning is in thumbnail
form in Small is Beautiful. The fuller explanation in
Guide for the Perplexed seemed admirably suited to me.
There, Schumacher appeared to turn the problem on its
head. He claimed that the problem of meaning can be
resolved from a position outside experience itself. Only a
standpoint above earthbound experience can make sense
of life. Frankly, I have forgotten the details of his
argument, but I recall that his half-dozen chapters gave
me a rationale for a theistic paradigm that I experienced
as a liberation.
Process.
The discovery of Schumacher's work was the
emotional high of my quest. I could understand that one
could be a believer without 'parking your brains at the
door' -- my concern in the wake of the teen years’
disappointment. Schumacher provided an argument for
a religious answer by showing that all rationality is
predicated on a starting point.
Emotional lows, barriers and hindrances of the
process were the series of disappointments. These
disappointments did serve, though, to prompt the
continued investigation. I have to confess the
fragmentary nature of the investigation. Life itself is

fragmentary, disconnected, and my process was
irresolute, occasional, happenstance -- but driven by a
necessity that kept on surfacing within the time span. I
would seem to exhaust the potential of one line of
exploration only to take up another one. New lines of
investigation continued to suggest themselves. My
exhaustion of, for instance, the psychological angle
would lead to new openness to other voices previously
dismissed, such as articles or books on existentialism
(out of bounds in my teenage religion, now a new
possibility) or on Buddhism (same).
Consequences.
As the end of my university career approached, I felt
unprepared to accept stable employment. I felt I needed
space for reflection. If such a space would also permit a
meaningful contribution of work, so much the better. My
bolt-hole appeared through CUSO, the Canadian third-
world development agency, an equivalent of Peace Corps
or Britain’s VSO. CUSO eventually offered me a position
teaching business skills to early school leavers in Papua
New Guinea. I was daunted by a two-year stipulation -- a
long time for a graduate to be out of circulation -- but my
need was significant enough that I signed on.
Shortly after I arrived in Papua New Guinea, my
existential and ethical concerns crystallized in such a way
that I literally woke up and formed a personal
commitment to a living Jesus Christ. Concretely, I
returned to attendance at a local church. Some eighteen
months later I was baptized.
In the years since I have continued to ask after the
rationality of my experiences. I continue to explore what
amounts to a parallel system of rationality. This parallel
system of thinking appears to exist on the other side of a
divide from secular accounts of meaning and purpose.
The system appears to have at least equal coherence with
secular accounts of meaning. Yes, the parallel system is
predicated on a starting point of supernatural origin. All
systems of thought start with an ‘unargued’ starting
point. The question is the coherence of the system. The
Christian system of meaning continues to account for the
world in a way that to me is as compelling now as it was
in early 1984. Witness to the inherent rationality of
Christian belief is a host of challenging thinkers and even
a culture that survived at least 1700 years.
Ted Newell: A Conversion Experience
Implications.
♦ Raised consciousness of paradigmatic issues may
occur in painful circumstances. While Tolstoy's
account suggested that his existential crisis occurred
in the midst of personal prosperity and external well-
being, mine occurred as I asked after ways to connect
with peers in meaningful ways.
♦ Gaps in an apparently meaningful paradigm will
prompt critical reflection. University attendance for
me was the fulfillment of an ambition of early
childhood and of course an ambition shared by
parents. Yet a university setting characterized by
numbers of atomized individuals without rationale
for community raised for me a possibility of
modernity’s barrenness. The secular paradigm, until
then taken for granted as possessing sure meaning
and purpose, began to have questionable meaning
and purpose.
♦ Paradigmatic issues may assert themselves as
outward supports of taken-for-granted paradigms
(supports to life or society, possibly) are removed.
♦ Paradigmatic change may occur gradually, as
alternatives are exhausted.
♦ As a learner and teacher, the experience of paradigm
transformation means that I ask about the starting
points of proposed ideas. In which system of
meaning do they fit? What view of human being do
they reflect? How might these ideas be adapted to fit
in a Christian paradigm? The experience has raised
my critical antennae and contributes (I hope) to
clarity in teaching.
1. According to the writer, which events
challenged and destroyed his previous
identity?
2. How does the writer arrive a sense of
identity?
3. If the reader is a secular person, how would
he be challenged, or, how might he dismiss
the account?