Kant 1/4: On Forests and Trees
An old man, a boy and a dog turn to Immanuel Kant, to learn 3 questions of nature
They were quite a crew, ambling among the trees: the boy, full of energy, scanning the woods for new adventures; the old man, carefully watching for roots in their path, but spry enough to keep up; the dog, sniffing blissfully for the scent of wild things.
They were friends, these three, and they enjoyed their wooded walks immensely. The exchange among them was always lively. But today their musings took an unusual turn.
“Tell me about the trees.” the boy said to the man.
The old man didn’t break stride. His gaze lifted briefly to the horizon, shifting back to the woods on either side, before returning focus to the path.
“Interesting,” the old man replied, reflecting. “But I think you should be asking three questions.” He wasn’t sure if the boy’s query was rhetorical. Best to find out.
The boy still ambled along, but his brow had furrowed. This wasn’t a reply he’d expected.
“Three questions?”
“Yes,” said the old man, pausing for effect. “First ask, ‘What is a tree?’ because to learn more, your topic needs clarity, so you know what you’re asking about.”
The boy pondered this only briefly. After all, they were walking in the woods. “Look around,” said the boy, with a flourish, “trees are everywhere!” The dog looked up at the boy, then at the trees, as if in full agreement, then returned to his sniffing.
“Maybe you’re right,” said the man, “although— ” His voice trailed off, as he stopped without warning. The boy and the dog obliged, careening to a halt as well. The dog looked up for more information.
“Let’s have a look over there — ”
The man moved off the trail, scanning for evidence, with the boy and dog on his heels. He leaned on a knee, with an outstretched finger pointed at a prickly-bush, no higher than the boy’s head. “Is that a tree?” he asked. The boy shook his head ‘no’ with a scrunched face. The old man nodded. Looking around some more, the man spied a tiny oak, less than two inches tall. “What about that one?”
This needed reflection. The boy knew of saplings, but he was less certain now, so his answer was measured. “No, not yet” the boy said.
“But someday?”
“Yes, someday a sapling may grow tall, like a regular tree.”
“Ahh, yes, if all goes well. Sun. Rain. A fair breeze. But that should be your second question. ‘How do trees live?’ If you want to know more about trees, you need to learn the many things that effect them — how they breathe, drink the rain, and grow.”
Now the boy was a little impatient. His original question had been simple enough, but the old man was forcing him to think. And apparently, there was more.
“What’s the third question, then?”
The man stood, and looked back at the horizon. The path was falling away before them, and the immensity of the surrounding forest peered through the trees. A smile crept onto his face, as he put his arm on the boy’s shoulder.
“The biggest question of all, my boy. ‘Why are trees important?’ Once you agree what a tree is, and you know how they work, it’s time to learn about the trees’ role in helping us survive.”
By now, the boy was lost in his thoughts. And the old man sensed some misgivings.
“Sometimes,” said the old man, “when I’m looking at a hard problem, I take a step back.” The man returned to the path, and held up a finger, with a nod to a nearby oak. “Start with one tree, a concept, the idea of a tree,” he said, “Find the words that you’ll need to talk about them. What’s a branch? What’s a root? How tall is tall?” Then he gestured wide, as if acknowledging the many trunks nearby, and said, “Next, take the woods, with many factors effecting growth; think about the things we can study, and for a small patch of trees, maybe even control.” Then the old man spread his arms wide, wider than the boy thought wise for an old man, and said “Finally, you can think about all trees, a global forest, where trees are both impacting the world, and being impacted by it, like a great circle.”
It was so quiet you could hear a pine cone fall. At that moment, in fact, one came bouncing down through the branches onto the wooded path, behind them. The dog looked back to study the intrusion. But the boy was following the old man’s thought process. He was almost there.
The old man sensed it was time to bring it all together: “So to really understand something — to truly know — you must be able to describe what it is, show how it works, and then, and only then, you can grasp the many factors that understand why it matters. And that makes — ”
“Three questions,” said the boy, nodding.
The boy could tell he was starting to think about trees in different ways, and at every possible level—guided by the notions of one, many, and all. The old man was turning around his original question, asking it every which way it could be asked. It was like climbing a ladder, with more to think about at each rung, and the problems kept getting harder. At last, the boy had mastered the riddle. And he was learning a lot about trees.
“Wow. That’s amazing,” the boy said, with a grin. “Glad I asked.” He was feeling quite a bit smarter already.
“All good questions,” said the old man, with a wink and a nod, “you’ve got me thinking a bit, too.”
The dog looked up at the boy, wagging his tail in approval.
They resumed the hike, taking in the smells of the trees. As they began their descent, the old man surveyed the horizon again. It was a maddeningly simple way to arrange the world’s knowledge: one, many, and all. It was a useful way to categorize not just trees — but everything. He knew Kant’s knowledge framework was based on this triad, an idea that had captured his imagination years ago when he first came across it. Perhaps more important, his young friend seemed to gain from its simple but intuitive power. After all these years, the greatest of all modern philosophers was starting to make sense.
The old man quickened his pace to catch up with the boy and the dog. Their path was doubling back as it descended, making a sweeping turn for home. But his watchful eye stayed trained on the path, taking care to avoid stray roots and rocks that could delay progress.
More conversations ahead, he thought. So much still to learn.
This is the first in a series on 21st-Century Kant, exploring modern applications of the Master’s 1781 Categorical Framework. Let me know your thoughts! You can find me on Twitter, Instagram, and of course here on Medium. I’ve launched a new pub here— Just Curious — where we’re exchanging insights and ideas in (mostly) 3-minute reads. Join us!
