Good old Elmer!  He was in my Freshman college philosophy class.  We were discussing the relative merits of "free will" and "determinism," and Elmer proclaimed that neither could be correct.  He made a valiant effort to discredit these two giant contenders for men's minds with a simple and elegant demonstration the next day.

He brought to class two envelopes, one addressed to the School of Engineering, the other addressed to the School of Literature, Science and the Arts.  They contained enrollment applications, he said.  In the corner of one envelope was written "even," and in the corner of the other was written "odd."  He also had a large dark-room timer clock, and a funny-looking machine about the size of a press camera. With the professor's permission, he proceeded to explain how he would discredit both free will and determinism with a very personal demonstration.

He said that he'd been dissatisfied with his decision the previous year to enroll in Engineering School, and had gotten nowhere debating with himself.  Engineering was "solid," but astronomy would be more fun.  So he said he was going to place his destiny in the hands of something that was neither free will nor determinism.  He announced that the machine was a Geiger counter, and that Geiger counters emit clicks when special events occurred in the nuclei of radioactive atoms.  Most physicists, he assured us, believe that these decay events are purely random, and that they are inherently unpredictable.

Life decisions, however, have never been described as purely random, or inherently unpredictable.  That would change during the next few minutes, and this specific instance would serve to prove the existence of the category.

He then set the darkroom timer to about one minute, and instructed the class to count clicks of the Geiger counter while the timer ran.  There was great drama as the timer was started and we all counted the clicks.  One, ... two, ..., we had reached 15 when the timer went "ding."  Elmer asked the professor to select the envelope marked "odd," and announce what his destiny would be.  "Astronomy," he proclaimed, and the class cheered.

His point had been made, and the professor began a slow commentary.  He said that maybe there was something between free will and determinism, and asked Elmer if he would like to suggest a name for this thing that they seemed to have demonstrated.   "Stochastic determinism" Elmer replied.  And we all felt the age-honored concept of free will slipping out of existence.

But just then, almost when the class was to be dismissed, somebody from the back of the class asked to see the other envelope, the one addressed to the "School of Engineering."  The professor opened it, and read from a cover letter:

"Please forward the enclosed application the the School of Literature, Science and the Arts."
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This site opened:  October 30, 1998.   Last Update: October 30, 1998