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Borough of Manhattan Community College

Is Man a Machine?A Discussion of Mark Twain’s What is Man?

Questions, Assignments, and Sample Essay by Andrew Gottlieb

The writing assignment is on page 12.

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Write about the following questions:

To what extent are our thoughts our own? To what extent are we a product of outside influences? Are we programmed by others to think as we do? Is man a machine?

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First Chapter from Mark Twain’sWHAT IS MAN?

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a. Man the Machine. b. Personal Merit

[The Old Man and the Young Man had been conversing. The Old Man had asserted that the human being is merely a machine, and nothing more. The Young Man objected, and asked him to go into particulars and furnish his reasons for his position.]

Old Man. What are the materials of which a steam-engine is made?

Young Man. Iron, steel, brass, white-metal, and so on.

O.M. Where are these found?

Y.M. In the rocks.

O.M. In a pure state?

Y.M. No—in ores.

O.M. Are the metals suddenly deposited in the ores?

Y.M. No—it is the patient work of countless ages.

O.M. You could make the engine out of the rocks themselves?

Y.M. Yes, a brittle one and not valuable.

O.M. You would not require much, of such an engine as that?

Y.M. No—substantially nothing.

O.M. To make a fine and capable engine, how would you proceed?

Y.M. Drive tunnels and shafts into the hills; blast out the iron ore; crush it, smelt it, reduce it to pig-iron; put some of it through the Bessemer process and make steel of it. Mine and treat and combine several metals of which brass is made.

O.M. Then?

Y.M. Out of the perfected result, build the fine engine.

O.M. You would require much of this one?

Y.M. Oh, indeed yes.

O.M. It could drive lathes, drills, planers, punches, polishers, in a word all the cunning machines of a great factory?

Y.M. It could.

O.M. What could the stone engine do?

Y.M. Drive a sewing-machine, possibly—nothing more, perhaps.

O.M. Men would admire the other engine and rapturously praise it?

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Y.M. Yes.

O.M. But not the stone one?

Y.M. No.

O.M. The merits of the metal machine would be far above those of the stone one?

Y.M. Of course.

O.M. Personal merits?

Y.M. Personal merits? How do you mean?

O.M. It would be personally entitled to the credit of its own performance?

Y.M. The engine? Certainly not.

O.M. Why not?

Y.M. Because its performance is not personal. It is the result of the law of construction. It is not a merit that it does the things which it is set to do—it can't help doing them.

O.M. And it is not a personal demerit in the stone machine that it does so little?

Y.M. Certainly not. It does no more and no less than the law of its make permits and compels it to do. There is nothing personal about it; it cannot choose. In this process of "working up to the matter" is it your idea to work up to the proposition that man and a machine are about the same thing, and that there is no personal merit in the performance of either?

O.M. Yes—but do not be offended; I am meaning no offense. What makes the grand difference between the stone engine and the steel one? Shall we call it training, education? Shall we call the stone engine a savage and the steel one a civilized man? The original rock contained the stuff of which the steel one was built—but along with a lot of sulphur and stone and other obstructing inborn heredities, brought down from the old geologic ages—prejudices, let us call them. Prejudices which nothing within the rock itself had either power to remove or any desire to remove. Will you take note of that phrase?

Y.M. Yes. I have written it down; "Prejudices which nothing within the rock itself had either power to remove or any desire to remove." Go on.

O.M. Prejudices must be removed by outside influences or not at all. Put that down.

Y.M. Very well; "Must be removed by outside influences or not at all." Go on.

O.M. The iron's prejudice against ridding itself of the cumbering rock. To make it more exact, the iron's absolute indifference as to whether the rock be removed or not. Then comes the outside influence and grinds the rock to powder and sets the ore free. The iron in the ore is still captive. An outside influence smelts it free of the clogging ore. The iron is emancipated iron, now, but indifferent to further progress. An outside influence beguiles it into the Bessemer furnace and refines it into steel of the first quality. It is educated, now—its training is complete. And it has reached its limit. By no possible process can it be educated into gold. Will you set that down?

Y.M. Yes. "Everything has its limit—iron ore cannot be educated into gold."

O.M. There are gold men, and tin men, and copper men, and leaden men, and steel men, and so on—and each has the limitations of his nature, his heredities, his training, and his

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environment. You can build engines out of each of these metals, and they will all perform, but you must not require the weak ones to do equal work with the strong ones. In each case, to get the best results, you must free the metal from its obstructing prejudicial ones by education—smelting, refining, and so forth.

Y.M. You have arrived at man, now?

O.M. Yes. Man the machine—man the impersonal engine. Whatsoever a man is, is due to his make, and to the influences brought to bear upon it by his heredities, his habitat, his associations. He is moved, directed, COMMANDED, by exterior influences—solely. He originates nothing, not even a thought.

Y.M. Oh, come! Where did I get my opinion that this which you are talking is all foolishness?

How, according to the old man, are people like machines? Do you agree with his idea?

O.M. It is a quite natural opinion—indeed an inevitable opinion—but you did not create the materials out of which it is formed. They are odds and ends of thoughts, impressions, feelings, gathered unconsciously from a thousand books, a thousand conversations, and from streams of

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thought and feeling which have flowed down into your heart and brain out of the hearts and brains of centuries of ancestors. Personally you did not create even the smallest microscopic fragment of the materials out of which your opinion is made; and personally you cannot claim even the slender merit of putting the borrowed materials together. That was done automatically—by your mental machinery, in strict accordance with the law of that machinery's construction. And you not only did not make that machinery yourself, but you have not even any command over it.

Y.M. This is too much. You think I could have formed no opinion but that one?

O.M. Spontaneously? No. And you did not form that one; your machinery did it for you—automatically and instantly, without reflection or the need of it.

What do you think of the old man’s idea that we are not the creators of our own opinions?

Y.M. Suppose I had reflected? How then?

O.M. Suppose you try?

Y.M. (After a quarter of an hour.) I have reflected.

O.M. You mean you have tried to change your opinion—as an experiment?

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Y.M. Yes.

O.M. With success?

Y.M. No. It remains the same; it is impossible to change it.

O.M. I am sorry, but you see, yourself, that your mind is merely a machine, nothing more. You have no command over it, it has no command over itself—it is worked solely from the outside. That is the law of its make; it is the law of all machines.

Y.M. Can't I ever change one of these automatic opinions?

O.M. No. You can't yourself, but exterior influences can do it.

Y.M. And exterior ones only?

O.M. Yes—exterior ones only.

Do you agree with the old man that we are incapable of changing our own opinions and that our mind “has no command over itself” that “it is worked solely from the outside?”

Y.M. That position is untenable—I may say ludicrously untenable.

O.M. What makes you think so?

Y.M. I don't merely think it, I know it. Suppose I resolve to enter upon a course of thought, and study, and reading, with the deliberate purpose of changing that opinion; and suppose I succeed. That is not the work of an exterior impulse, the whole of it is mine and personal; for I originated the project.

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O.M. Not a shred of it. It grew out of this talk with me. But for that it would not have occurred to you. No man ever originates anything. All his thoughts, all his impulses, come from the outside.

Y.M. It's an exasperating subject. The first man had original thoughts, anyway; there was nobody to draw from.

O.M. It is a mistake. Adam's thoughts came to him from the outside. You have a fear of death. You did not invent that—you got it from outside, from talking and teaching. Adam had no fear of death—none in the world.

Y.M. Yes, he had.

O.M. When he was created?

Y.M. No.

O.M. When, then?

Y.M. When he was threatened with it.

O.M. Then it came from outside. Adam is quite big enough; let us not try to make a god of him. None but gods have ever had a thought which did not come from the outside . Adam probably had a good head, but it was of no sort of use to him until it was filled up from the outside. He was not able to invent the triflingest little thing with it. He had not a shadow of a notion of the difference between good and evil—he had to get the idea from the outside. Neither he nor Eve was able to originate the idea that it was immodest to go naked; the knowledge came in with the apple from the outside. A man's brain is so constructed that it can originate nothing whatsoever. It can only use material obtained outside. It is merely a machine; and it works automatically, not by will-power. It has no command over itself, its owner has no command over it.

What do you think of the old man’s interpretation of the Biblical story of the origin of our knowledge of good and evil? Do you think we are born with an understanding of good and evil or do we learn this from outside influences? If you lived away from all outside influences, do you think you would have a sense of right and wrong?

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Y.M. Well, never mind Adam: but certainly Shakespeare's creations—

O.M. No, you mean Shakespeare's imitations. Shakespeare created nothing. He correctly observed, and he marvelously painted. He exactly portrayed people whom God had created; but he created none himself. Let us spare him the slander of charging him with trying. Shakespeare could not create. He was a machine, and machines do not create.

Y.M. Where was his excellence, then?

O.M. In this. He was not a sewing-machine, like you and me; he was a Gobelin loom. The threads and the colors came into him from the outside; outside influences, suggestions, experiences (reading, seeing plays, playing plays, borrowing ideas, and so on), framed the patterns in his mind and started up his complex and admirable machinery, and it automatically turned out that pictured and gorgeous fabric which still compels the astonishment of the world. If Shakespeare had been born and bred on a barren and unvisited rock in the ocean his mighty intellect would have had no outside material to work with, and could have invented none; and no outside influences, teachings, moldings, persuasions, inspirations, of a valuable sort, and could have invented none; and so Shakespeare would have produced nothing. In Turkey he would have produced something—something up to the highest limit of Turkish influences, associations, and training. In France he would have produced something better—something up to the highest limit of the French influences and training. In England he rose to the highest limit attainable through the outside helps afforded by that land's ideals, influences, and training. You and I are but sewing-machines. We must turn out what we can; we must do our endeavor and care nothing at all when the unthinking reproach us for not turning out Gobelins.

Y.M. And so we are mere machines! And machines may not boast, nor feel proud of their performance, nor claim personal merit for it, nor applause and praise. It is an infamous doctrine.

O.M. It isn't a doctrine, it is merely a fact.

What do you think of the old man’s understanding of Shakespeare? Was Shakespeare no more than a gifted imitator of God’s creation? Are even the greatest artists and thinkers capable of producing what has been given them by outside influences? Consider other great minds such as Socrates, Newton, Beethoven, Rembrandt, Lincoln, and Einstein.

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Y.M. I suppose, then, there is no more merit in being brave than in being a coward?

O.M. Personal merit? No. A brave man does not create his bravery. He is entitled to no personal credit for possessing it. It is born to him. A baby born with a billion dollars—where is the personal merit in that? A baby born with nothing—where is the personal demerit in that? The one is fawned upon, admired, worshiped, by sycophants, the other is neglected and despised—where is the sense in it?

Y.M. Sometimes a timid man sets himself the task of conquering his cowardice and becoming brave—and succeeds. What do you say to that?

O.M. That it shows the value of training in right directions over training in wrong ones. Inestimably valuable is training, influence, education, in right directions—training one's self-approbation to elevate its ideals.

Y.M. But as to merit—the personal merit of the victorious coward's project and achievement?

O.M. There isn't any. In the world's view he is a worthier man than he was before, but he didn't achieve the change—the merit of it is not his.

Y.M. Whose, then?

O.M. His make, and the influences which wrought upon it from the outside.

Y.M. His make?

O.M. To start with, he was not utterly and completely a coward, or the influences would have had nothing to work upon. He was not afraid of a cow, though perhaps of a bull: not afraid of a woman, but afraid of a man. There was something to build upon. There was a seed. No seed, no

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plant. Did he make that seed himself, or was it born in him? It was no merit of his that the seed was there.

Y.M. Well, anyway, the idea of cultivating it, the resolution to cultivate it, was meritorious, and he originated that.

O.M. He did nothing of the kind. It came whence all impulses, good or bad, come—from outside. If that timid man had lived all his life in a community of human rabbits, had never read of brave deeds, had never heard speak of them, had never heard any one praise them nor express envy of the heroes that had done them, he would have had no more idea of bravery than Adam had of modesty, and it could never by any possibility have occurred to him to resolve to become brave. He could not originate the idea—it had to come to him from the outside. And so, when he heard bravery extolled and cowardice derided, it woke him up. He was ashamed. Perhaps his sweetheart turned up her nose and said, "I am told that you are a coward!" It was not he that turned over the new leaf—she did it for him. He must not strut around in the merit of it —it is not his.

Y.M. But, anyway, he reared the plant after she watered the seed.

O.M. No. Outside influences reared it. At the command—and trembling—he marched out into the field—with other soldiers and in the daytime, not alone and in the dark. He had the influence of example, he drew courage from his comrades' courage; he was afraid, and wanted to run, but he did not dare; he was afraid to run, with all those soldiers looking on. He was progressing, you see—the moral fear of shame had risen superior to the physical fear of harm. By the end of the campaign experience will have taught him that not all who go into battle get hurt—an outside influence which will be helpful to him; and he will also have learned how sweet it is to be praised for courage and be huzza'd at with tear-choked voices as the war-worn regiment marches past the worshiping multitude with flags flying and the drums beating. After that he will be as securely brave as any veteran in the army—and there will not be a shade nor suggestion of personal merit in it anywhere; it will all have come from the outside. The Victoria Cross breeds more heroes than—

What do you thinking about the old man’s understanding of courage? Do you agree that we cannot take credit for our courageous acts since they are a product of what we were born with along with the outside influences that shaped us?

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Y.M. Hang it, where is the sense in his becoming brave if he is to get no credit for it?

O.M. Your question will answer itself presently. It involves an important detail of man's make which we have not yet touched upon.

Y.M. What detail is that?

O.M. The impulse which moves a person to do things—the only impulse that ever moves a person to do a thing.

Y.M. The only one! Is there but one?

O.M. That is all. There is only one.

Y.M. Well, certainly that is a strange enough doctrine. What is the sole impulse that ever moves a person to do a thing?

O.M. The impulse to content his own spirit—the necessity of contenting his own spirit and winning its approval.

Y.M. Oh, come, that won't do!

O.M. Why won't it?

Y.M. Because it puts him in the attitude of always looking out for his own comfort and advantage; whereas an unselfish man often does a thing solely for another person's good when it is a positive disadvantage to himself.

O.M. It is a mistake. The act must do him good, first; otherwise he will not do it. He may think he is doing it solely for the other person's sake, but it is not so; he is contenting his own spirit first—the other's person's benefit has to always take second place.

Y.M. What a fantastic idea! What becomes of self—sacrifice? Please answer me that.

O.M. What is self-sacrifice?

Y.M. The doing good to another person where no shadow nor suggestion of benefit to one's self can result from it.

What do you think of the old man’s belief that we are motivated solely by the impulse to satisfy ourselves and that “the other's person's benefit has to always take second place?”

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Writing Assignment about Twain’s What is Man?:

Write a paper about the following questions: To what extent are our thoughts our own? To what extent are we a product of outside influences? Are we programmed by others to think as we do? Is man a machine?

Make reference to Twain’s What is Man? along with whatever insights you have gained from your own experiences and observations.

The paper must be 4 double-spaced pages and satisfy all of the specifications and formatting requirements on the following pages of this handout to receive credit.

******************************************************************************Topic: Our thoughts and where they come from.

Thesis: The notion that a human being is inherently a free thinker capable of independent thought may be an illusion. Much as we would like to see ourselves as unique and special beings capable of generating original ideas, the truth be quite the reverse.

All arguments in the essay will be evaluated in part as to the degree that they are thesis-centered, meaning that the instructor will grade papers in part on the basis of how well the arguments support the thesis statement. Other considerations will be coherence, organization, and general proficiency with the language which includes the ability to write grammatically correct sentences.

Essay Outline:

Introduction - Is man a machine?Ask: To what extent are our thoughts our own? To what extent are we a product of outside influences? Are we programmed by others to think as we do? Is man a machine? Refer to Mark Twain’s essay What is Man? as a vehicle for considering the answer to these questions.

Body: Summary and Interpretation of What is man?

Conclusion - Insights gained from What is Man?:

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Key Lines from Mark Twain’s What is Man?:

1. O.M. Yes. Man the machine—man the impersonal engine. Whatsoever a man is, is due to his make, and to the influences brought to bear upon it by his heredities, his habitat, his associations. He is moved, directed, COMMANDED, by exterior influences—solely. He originates nothing, not even a thought.

2. O.M. It is a quite natural opinion—indeed an inevitable opinion—but you did not create the materials out of which it is formed. They are odds and ends of thoughts, impressions, feelings, gathered unconsciously from a thousand books, a thousand conversations, and from streams of thought and feeling which have flowed down into your heart and brain out of the hearts and brains of centuries of ancestors. Personally you did not create even the smallest microscopic fragment of the materials out of which your opinion is made; and personally you cannot claim even the slender merit of putting the borrowed materials together. That was done automatically—by your mental machinery, in strict accordance with the law of that machinery's construction. And you not only did not make that machinery yourself, but you have not even any command over it.

3. O.M. I am sorry, but you see, yourself, that your mind is merely a machine, nothing more. You have no command over it, it has no command over itself—it is worked solely from the outside. That is the law of its make; it is the law of all machines.

Y.M. Can't I ever change one of these automatic opinions?

O.M. No. You can't yourself, but exterior influences can do it.

Y.M. And exterior ones only?

O.M. Yes—exterior ones only.

4. O.M. Not a shred of it. It grew out of this talk with me. But for that it would not have occurred to you. No man ever originates anything. All his thoughts, all his impulses, come from the outside.

Y.M. It's an exasperating subject. The first man had original thoughts, anyway; there was nobody to draw from.

O.M. It is a mistake. Adam's thoughts came to him from the outside. You have a fear of death. You did not invent that—you got it from outside, from talking and teaching. Adam had no fear of death—none in the world.

Y.M. Yes, he had.

O.M. When he was created?

Y.M. No.

O.M. When, then?

Y.M. When he was threatened with it.

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O.M. Then it came from outside. Adam is quite big enough; let us not try to make a god of him. None but gods have ever had a thought which did not come from the outside. Adam probably had a good head, but it was of no sort of use to him until it was filled up from the outside. He was not able to invent the triflingest little thing with it. He had not a shadow of a notion of the difference between good and evil—he had to get the idea from the outside. Neither he nor Eve was able to originate the idea that it was immodest to go naked; the knowledge came in with the apple from the outside. A man's brain is so constructed that it can originate nothing whatsoever. It can only use material obtained outside. It is merely a machine; and it works automatically, not by will-power. It has no command over itself, its owner has no command over it.

5. Y.M. Well, never mind Adam: but certainly Shakespeare's creations—

O.M. No, you mean Shakespeare's imitations. Shakespeare created nothing. He correctly observed, and he marvelously painted. He exactly portrayed people whom God had created; but he created none himself. Let us spare him the slander of charging him with trying. Shakespeare could not create. He was a machine, and machines do not create.

Y.M. Where was his excellence, then?

O.M. In this. He was not a sewing-machine, like you and me; he was a Gobelin loom. The threads and the colors came into him from the outside; outside influences, suggestions, experiences (reading, seeing plays, playing plays, borrowing ideas, and so on), framed the patterns in his mind and started up his complex and admirable machinery, and it automatically turned out that pictured and gorgeous fabric which still compels the astonishment of the world. If Shakespeare had been born and bred on a barren and unvisited rock in the ocean his mighty intellect would have had no outside material to work with, and could have invented none; and no outside influences, teachings, moldings, persuasions, inspirations, of a valuable sort, and could have invented none; and so Shakespeare would have produced nothing.

6. Y.M. I suppose, then, there is no more merit in being brave than in being a coward?

O.M. Personal merit? No. A brave man does not create his bravery. He is entitled to no personal credit for possessing it. It is born to him. A baby born with a billion dollars—where is the personal merit in that? A baby born with nothing—where is the personal demerit in that? The one is fawned upon, admired, worshiped, by sycophants, the other is neglected and despised—where is the sense in it?

7. Y.M. Sometimes a timid man sets himself the task of conquering his cowardice and becoming brave—and succeeds. What do you say to that?

O.M. That it shows the value of training in right directions over training in wrong ones. Inestimably valuable is training, influence, education, in right directions—training one's self-approbation to elevate its ideals.

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Y.M. But as to merit—the personal merit of the victorious coward's project and achievement?

O.M. There isn't any. In the world's view he is a worthier man than he was before, but he didn't achieve the change—the merit of it is not his.

Y.M. Whose, then?

O.M. His make, and the influences which wrought upon it from the outside.

Y.M. His make?

O.M. To start with, he was not utterly and completely a coward, or the influences would have had nothing to work upon. He was not afraid of a cow, though perhaps of a bull: not afraid of a woman, but afraid of a man. There was something to build upon. There was a seed. No seed, no plant. Did he make that seed himself, or was it born in him? It was no merit of his that the seed was there.

Y.M. Well, anyway, the idea of cultivating it, the resolution to cultivate it, was meritorious, and he originated that.

O.M. He did nothing of the kind. It came whence all impulses, good or bad, come—from outside. If that timid man had lived all his life in a community of human rabbits, had never read of brave deeds, had never heard speak of them, had never heard any one praise them nor express envy of the heroes that had done them, he would have had no more idea of bravery than Adam had of modesty, and it could never by any possibility have occurred to him to resolve to become brave. He could not originate the idea—it had to come to him from the outside. And so, when he heard bravery extolled and cowardice derided, it woke him up. He was ashamed. Perhaps his sweetheart turned up her nose and said, "I am told that you are a coward!" It was not he that turned over the new leaf—she did it for him. He must not strut around in the merit of it —it is not his.

Y.M. But, anyway, he reared the plant after she watered the seed.

O.M. No. Outside influences reared it. At the command—and trembling—he marched out into the field—with other soldiers and in the daytime, not alone and in the dark. He had the influence of example, he drew courage from his comrades' courage; he was afraid, and wanted to run, but he did not dare; he was afraid to run, with all those soldiers looking on.

8. Y.M. Well, certainly that is a strange enough doctrine. What is the sole impulse that ever moves a person to do a thing?

O.M. The impulse to content his own spirit—the necessity of contenting his own spirit and winning its approval.

Y.M. Oh, come, that won't do!

O.M. Why won't it?

Y.M. Because it puts him in the attitude of always looking out for his own comfort and advantage; whereas an unselfish man often does a thing solely for another person's good when it is a positive disadvantage to himself.

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O.M. It is a mistake. The act must do him good, first; otherwise he will not do it. He may think he is doing it solely for the other person's sake, but it is not so; he is contenting his own spirit first—the other's person's benefit has to always take second place.

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Specifications

1. Each essay must be stapled in the upper left-hand corner. Papers that are not stapled will not be accepted.

2. Each page of each essay must have typed page numbers in the upper right-hand corner. Papers without typed page numbers in the upper right hand corner will not be accepted.

3. Each essay must be typed. Essays that are not typed will not be accepted.

4. Font size must be 12.

5. Font style must be Times New Roman.

6. Each paragraph must be indented.

7. There must be no more than one double-space between paragraphs.

8. The name of the student, professor, course, and date must be flush left with a double-space between each. See example on the following page.

9. Each essay must be double-spaced.

10. For citations more than one sentences, use the following specifications. See example on page 9.

a. single-spaceb. font size 10c. left indent at 1 right indent at 5.5.

11. Quotation marks and the appropriate MLA citation for all quotes must be used. The absence of quotation marks where needed is PLAGIARISM. See example of internal punctuation on the following page. WARNING: Omission of quotation marks is grounds for an F for the paper and possibly for the final grade.

12. All sources used in the essay must be cited in a “Works Cited” page and be done according to MLA formats. See example on the page after the following page.

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FormatFirst Page This is an example of the top of the first page of a paper. Use double-spaces. The title must be a double-space below the date and centered. See MLA Handbook - Seventh Edition. 4.3. Heading And Title. 116.

Internal Punctuation

Long QuotationsThis is an example of how to do a citation longer than one sentence.

ksfsdfsalsfdjkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkks;dflkaks;fldskf;sdlllllllllllllllllwks;dlfk’safdksa;

Works Cited Page

This is an example of the top of the first page of a works-cited list. Entries are in alphabetical order with second lines of each entry indented (hanging indentation).

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John Smith

Professor Abraham

English 201

May 7, 2009

Greek Tragedy

“In the very first year of our century Sigmund Freud in his Interpretation of Dreams offered a famous and influential interpretation of Oedipus the King:

Oedipus Rex is what is known as a tragedy of destiny. Its tragic effect is said to lie in the contrast between supreme will of the gods and the vain attempts of mankind to escape the evil that threatens them. The lesson which, it is said, the deeply moved spectator should learn from the tragedy is submission to the divine will and realization of his own impotence. (Trans. James Strachey)

This passage is of course a landmark in the history of modern thought, and it is fascinating to observe that this idea, which, valid or not, has had enormous influence, stems from an attempt to answer a literary problem – why does the play have this overpowering effect on modern audiences?” (Knox, Bernard. Sophocles – The Three Theban Plays. Translated by Robert Fagles. Penguin Books. Copyright by Bernhard Knox, 1982. 132. Print.)

When citing a source in the text do as follows: “Oedipus in the play is a free agent” (Fagles, 149).

When paraphrasing do as follows: Fagles maintains that Oedipus has free will (Fagles, 149).

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See MLA Handbook - Seventh Edition. 131.

The Works Cited page must be on a separate page.

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Works Cited

Shakespeare, William. The Tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmark. Edited by Edward Hubler.

A Signet Classic. Copyright by Edward Hubler, 1963. Print.

Sophocles. The Three Theban Plays – Antigone, Oedipus the King, Oeidipus at Colonus.

Translated By Robert Fagles. Penguin Books. Copyright by Robert Fagles, 1982, 1984. Print.

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Andrew Gottlieb SAMPLE PAPER for Twain’s What is Man?

English 101- (section number)

Professor Gottlieb

May 10, 2014

Is Man a Machine?

Introduction - Is man a machine?:

To what extent are our thoughts our own? To what extent are we a product of outside

influences? Are we programmed by others to think as we do? Is man a machine? If all that I

think is no more than a patchwork quilt of other people’s thoughts, of ideas passed on from one

generation to the next, of a vast cultural network of information and ideas, then who am I? Can I

truly call myself an individual? Can I be truly unique or special or different? Surely, I like to

believe so, but individuality in its purest sense may be an illusion. If this is so, if we are not truly

individuals, than we may wonder not only who we are but what we are. If our thoughts define us

and our thoughts are the product of collective consciousness programmed into us by others, then

the meaning of being human, or at least the one to which we have been accustomed, may be

fallacious. The notion that a human being is inherently a free thinker capable of independent

thought may be an illusion. Much as we would like to see ourselves as unique and special beings

capable of generating original ideas, the truth be quite the reverse. Perhaps, nothing we do, no

matter how ingenious, is truly original. The pathways of our thoughts may be far more

proscribed than we dare to realize. Even the greatest of minds have imbibed the programming of

their culture and, even in their challenging of conventional wisdom and the various prejudices of

their age are still the products of the very norms they challenge. In his essay What is Man? Mark

Twain affirms that all our thoughts are products of outside influences and that we are in essence

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no more than highly sophisticated machines. The purpose of this essay is to explore the validity

of this assertion.

Body - Summary and Interpretation of What is man?:

According to Twain, man is COMMANDED, by exterior influences—solely. He

originates nothing, not even a thought” (Twain, ch. 1). Our opinions, he affirms are nothing

more than “odds and ends of thoughts, impressions, feelings, gathered unconsciously from a

thousand books, a thousand conversations, and from streams of thought and feeling which have

flowed down into your heart and brain out of the hearts and brains of centuries of ancestors”

(Twain, ch.1). He maintain that even the way we arrange the ideas we have inherited is done

“automatically—by your mental machinery, in strict accordance with the law of that machinery's

construction” (Twain, ch.1). As far as Twain is concerned, it appears we have no free will and

can take absolutely no credit for our insights or ideas any more than an automated assembly line

can take credit for the product it produces. He goes on to say that we can’t even change our

opinions by ourselves. We can change our opinions only when compelled to do so by exterior

influences.

The old man continues his discussion with the young man by considering whether Adam,

the first man had original thoughts. Did his fear of death, for instance, originate with him?

According to the old man, the source of Adam’s fear of death resulted from his being threatened

by it. Again, it was an outside influence that gave birth to Adam’s idea of death, not himself. As

far as Adam and Eve’s awareness of the apple, that too came from an outside source as well as

the shame they felt about being naked. Nothing, maintains the old man, originates in us.

“A man's brain,” he maintains, “is so constructed that it can originate nothing whatsoever”

(Twain, ch.1).

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The young man then inquires about Shakespeare. Was the Immortal Bard the creator of

his plays and poem? No such thing, affirms the old man. All of his works are imitations.

“Shakespeare created nothing,” affirms the old man. “He correctly observed, and he

marvelously painted. He exactly portrayed people whom God had created; but he created none

himself” (Twain, ch.1). He was, it seems, a pure product of his surroundings without which he

would never have been able to write his masterpieces. In the old man’s view, Shakespeare was

as much a machine as the rest of us, a finely tuned one to be sure, but still a machine and nothing

more.

The next topic of the conversation is courage. If not then one wonders if there “is no

more merit in being brave than in being a coward” (Twain, ch.1). “A brave man,” responds the

old man, “does not create his bravery. He is entitled to no personal credit for possessing it. It is

born to him” (Twain, ch.1). The fact that we are born with certain traits, it seems, nullifies

whatever credit we might like to take for acting upon them. Even when a timid man, explains

the old man, conquers his cowardice, it is only because he was not a born a complete coward to

begin with. The outside influences would not have made the apparent change possible had the

man not already been possessed of the potential for courage. There had to be a foundation, a

seed. “No seed, no plant” (Twain, ch.1). The man did not make the seed and thus, in the old

man’s line of reasoning, he cannot take credit for the seeming transformation or the act of

courage.

The first chapter concludes with the notion that the only thing that belongs to us is our

impulse to “content his own spirit—the necessity of contenting his own spirit and winning its

approval” (Twain, ch.1). This, apparently is the “sole impulse that ever moves a person to do a

thing” (Twain, ch.1). We would never be motivated to benefit others if we were not first and

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foremost benefitting ourselves. Even the willingness to sacrifice one’s life stems from the

feeling of satisfaction received from performing the act.

Conclusion - Insights gained from What is Man?:

It does not take a big leap to imagine that Twain is using the old man as his mouthpiece.

Evidently, Twain was something of a cynic, an attitude which we can venture to say was the

source of his satirical sense of humor, the same he made use of in his essay The Damned Human

Race in which he portrays mankind as creator not at the top but at the bottom of the evolutionary

scale. Since Twain was himself a human being, his less than complimentary view of humanity is

indicative of his humility. Surely, a man of his intelligence could not hope to be excluded from

his critique of a group to which he himself belonged. It is perhaps this humility that is the

foundation of humor of this kind, and humor of this kind is in turn the hallmark of humility.

Whether or not we agree with Twain’s view of mankind, we should not take offense but rather

see the humor of his insights and learn, if nothing else, to take ourselves a bit less seriously, to

hesitate to put ourselves or our species on a pedestal, and to give credit where credit is due – to

nature, nurture, and if we have the faith, to God.

Regarding the truth of the old man’s or Twain’s assertions about mankind, I have my

doubts. My sense is that his view neglects to take into consideration the idea that man is more

than the sum of his parts. A machine, at least all the ones I know, is not more than the sum of its

components. Man, however, displays characteristics and acts upon impulses that transcend

anything that can be explained by examining his components. We are different than machines

because, in large part, we are more than we can account for and because we are, by and large

unpredictable. Machines act only according to the way they were programmed. Man very often

acts in violation of programming. Twain would probably have argues that even the most

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unpredictable behavior is still a function of a man’s make combined with outside influences and

that man cannot claim credit even for the most unexpected deviations from the norm. I find it

difficult to share this view and believe that we are possessed with at least a modicum of free will.

Our choices may well be a product of some combination of nature and nurture over which we

have no control, but there may also be a mysterious element within us that at times allows us to

surprise even ourselves and to make choices that cannot be explained by such a mechanistic view

of nature. In the end, there is no way to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt whether or not man

is more or no more than a machine. It is up to each one of us to solve the riddle for ourselves. If

we choose to disagree with Twain, he would simply say that we are doing so according to our

impulse to content our own spirit. It is, after all more satisfying, more self-congratulatory to see

ourselves as free and independent agents worthy of receiving both blame and credit for all we do.

Is it thus only our vanity that compels us to embrace such a view? Perhaps, and if so, I confess

my preference and my guilt. But then, in his own way, Twain may be guilty of arrogance in

assuming an air of such certainty regarding the nature of man. Brilliant as he clearly was, he

may not have been as humble in his humor as some of us may like to believe. One might all

agree on, however, is that Twain did us the favor of challenge the conventional wisdom to which

so many of us ascribe and, by so doing, afforded us a chance to re-examine ourselves. We learn

from Socrates that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” Twain has continued in the

Socratic tradition and we may thank him for it.

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Works Cited

Twain, Mark (Clemens, Samuel). The Project Gutenberg EBook of What Is Man? And Other Stories, byRelease Date: May 11, 2009 [EBook #70] Last Updated: February 14, 2013. This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

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Introduction - Is man a machine?:

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Body - Summary and Interpretation of What is man?:

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Conclusion: Insights gained from What is Man?:

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Works Cited