The student sat with his lunch, looking out across the campus square.
He hadn’t been there long when he saw a mature student with a plastic lunch box coming out of the philosophy faculty. After looking around for a vacant seat, he made his way to where the young man was eating. He greeted the other with a friendly nod before making himself comfortable and opening his container. He took out what looked like a homemade sandwich and took a bite. The younger man had always admired the relatively small number of mature students that could be seen around the campus. He’d always felt that for a person to return to study in their later years showed a high degree of personal commitment. He sat for a while wondering how he could start a dialogue.
He opened with, “How’s it going with you today?”
The older man smiled. “Not bad, thanks. Just hungry, I guess. How about you? Study going OK?”
The other shrugged. “I like the subject. Philosophy, I mean… I do find some of it hard going.”
The older man chuckled softly, took another bite and sat staring at his sandwich for a while, before saying, “You know, I’ve often wondered about the value of it.”
Looking surprised, the other said, “You have?”
“Well, yes, I mean it’s all about looking for answers to life’s really big questions, I suppose.”
The other nodded.
He went on. “The problem is, it would be really hard sometimes keeping track of what philosophy actually is.”
“Well, strictly speaking it’s the love of wisdom.”
“Yes, no doubt, but what I’m saying is if it really is the study of values and reason and knowledge, in fact, the study of existence itself, at the end of the day who’s to say whether the answers that philosophers come up with are actually right?’
“I’m not sure what you mean by that, but my tutor puts it simply by frequently referring to our studies as ‘a reasoned pursuit of fundamental truths’. It’s some sort of mantra he uses, I suppose.”
The older man shook his head. “There you are, you see? How can any reliable standards of evidence be established to prove that truths are being found?”
The young collegian thought about it for a minute or two, before changing the subject. “What do you do, when you’re not here, I mean?”
“I’m a bus driver.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I drive a bus.”
“Do you really?”
“Really. I’m usually on the 14c route, but it can vary, if it’s needed.”
“You’re not a student, then?”
“No. Just visiting an old school friend who’s a cleaner here because I happened to be in the area. It’s my day off, today.”
He snapped the lid on his lunchbox and stood up. “Nice meeting you,” he said with a broad smile.
The young collegian watched him go.