The Smith family (unrelated to any Smiths I have met) knew that their historic family farmhouse faced North. It was a deeply held conviction handed down from one generation to the next as if it were right out of The Good Book. They and most of the people close to them were all certain of it. It was one of those indisputable facts that could not be questioned by any thinking person.
As nearly as could be discerned, the certainty began when great grandfather Albert Smith, standing on the then new farmhouse porch, pulled out his compass and saw that it pointed due North. Someone asked if Grampa Albert was holding his ever-present double-barrel shot gun in front of him close to the compass as he had once wandered in the swamp for two days because his trusty squirrel gun threw off his compass. But, everyone confidently poo-pooed any such challenge to the veracity of the directional orientation of the centennial residence.
Oh, there were disbelievers. Heretics all! In reality, most non-Smiths who lived in the neighborhood and heard the story laughed that anyone could believe it. They wondered if the crazy Smith clan was also into the flat earth society. They pointed to the sun as an obvious, every day indicator of where true North was, but the Smiths were undeterred from their family dogma. Not a few laughed at the Smith’s commitment to such an illogical error, but the believers were unshaken by the ridicule. “When you’ve got the truth, you’ve got to expect persecution,” they opined.
Once in a great while, however, a brave Smith would question the family dictum. Invariably, they were argued or shouted down, shamed, shunned, ostracized, no longer invited to family events, and even had their “Smithness” challenged. Surely no genuine Smith would ever question or abandon this essential aspect of being a Smith. Perhaps they weren’t actually a Smith after all—maybe never had been if they dared to challenge what everyone knew was incontrovertible. The house faced North! Question closed! No discussion necessary or allowed! Done!
What amazed those who were aware of the directional-orientation fiasco was the Smith’s absolute refusal to even consider the possibility that they could be wrong. One memorable day, a small group of Smiths had purchased a half-dozen compasses at the sporting goods store in town and brought them to the annual family reunion. When they invited others in the family to come to the porch to see where the compasses pointed (it wasn’t North!), nearly all adamantly refused to even look. The few who did immediately declared that the compasses were obviously wrong and should not be believed. The family heads pontificated, “Don’t need to look. We all know North when we see it! Grampa Albert’s compass couldn’t have been wrong. No fake compass is going to fool us!”
Somehow the idea that someone could be a Smith and not believe the house faced North was incomprehensible to those who held to the constantly re-enforced doctrine of what constituted Smithness.
Some of the newly enlightened Smiths shook their heads and sadly walked away from the family–grieving because they truly loved being a Smith and loved the family. They were deeply saddened by their awareness that many outsiders had written off the entire Smith clan as kooks and crazies. The many wonderful attributes which characterized so many of the Smiths were eclipsed by their rabid, closed-mindedness about the directional orientation of the historic family homestead.
A few stayed in the family as long as possible, hoping against hope they might be successful in setting other Smiths free from their irrational and unnecessary intellectual folly and bondage.
Some important questions to consider based on the “Smith Parable”