To kill an error is as good a service as, and sometimes even
To kill an error is as good a service as, and sometimes even better than, the establishing of a new truth or fact.
The words of Charles Darwin resound like the tolling of an ancient bell: “To kill an error is as good a service as, and sometimes even better than, the establishing of a new truth or fact.” Here lies a teaching not bound by the borders of science alone, but one that reaches into the soul of human striving. For the pursuit of knowledge is not merely the laying of stones upon the path of truth, but also the sweeping away of the thorns and falsehoods that block the traveler’s way.
Behold, the work of the wise is twofold. One is to bring forth the light of new discovery. The other, no less noble, is to cast down the shadows of mistaken belief. An error, left unchallenged, becomes a tyrant; it grips the minds of generations, leading them astray, binding their strength in chains of falsehood. To strike down such a tyrant is an act of liberation, for in its fall, the people may breathe freely once more.
Consider the tale of the physician Ignaz Semmelweis in the 19th century. At a time when mothers died in great numbers from childbed fever, many physicians clung to the error that unseen forces or imbalances of humors were at fault. Yet Semmelweis discovered that the simple act of handwashing with antiseptic could save countless lives. His truth was great, but greater still was his battle against the entrenched error that scorned cleanliness as unnecessary. Though rejected in his own lifetime, his fight against this falsehood paved the way for modern medicine, and thus the slaying of an error gave rise to the saving of nations.
So too in the realm of belief, in the grand theater of human thought. Galileo, raising his eyes to the heavens, did not merely establish a new fact about the stars; he shattered the ancient error that Earth was the center of creation. His service to mankind was not in the lifting of one truth alone, but in the bold destruction of a deception that had for centuries bound the minds of men. His courage reminds us that the sword which strikes down error is often sharper than the pen that writes a new truth.
Yet beware, for errors are cunning adversaries. They do not always fall with one blow. They clothe themselves in tradition, in pride, in the seeming comfort of certainty. To challenge them is to stir the wrath of those who rest upon them. Thus, the warrior against falsehood must be patient, steadfast, and unafraid of solitude. The reward, though distant, is freedom for those yet unborn, who shall walk more securely upon paths cleared of lies.
The lesson is clear, my children of the future: do not measure your worth only by the discoveries you forge, but also by the falsehoods you have slain. A man who removes a stumbling stone from the road has done no less good than the one who builds a bridge across the river. Both serve the traveler, and both move humanity closer to its destiny.
Therefore, in your daily life, seek out the errors that ensnare you—whether in your thoughts, your habits, or in the voices of those around you. Question them, test them, and if they prove false, cast them away without fear. Do not cling to them out of pride, for pride is the cloak of deception. Instead, wield humility as your weapon and reason as your shield.
And remember: to kill an error is not destruction, but creation. It is the clearing of the soil so that seeds of truth may take root. Strive, then, not only to proclaim what is true, but to battle bravely against what is false. In this, you will honor the wisdom of Darwin, and leave behind for the generations to come a world less clouded by illusion, and more radiant with truth.
HNvu dac hoang nam
I appreciate Darwin’s quote because it highlights how vital it is to challenge existing knowledge and correct mistakes. But how do we balance this with the desire for new discoveries? Can we ever fully eliminate errors, or is it a constant process of refinement? It also raises the question of whether the willingness to admit mistakes is a sign of intellectual strength, something often undervalued in the pursuit of ‘truth’ and ‘progress.’
THPhung thu ha
Darwin’s view on killing errors as being equally valuable as discovering new truths is powerful, yet it raises a question: How do we know when we’ve truly eliminated an error? Sometimes, errors can be deeply ingrained, and it takes a long time to recognize them as false. Does this mean we need to be more open to challenging our own assumptions regularly to ensure we’re not holding onto outdated or incorrect ideas?
HMHoang Minh
The idea that eliminating an error can be as important as or even more important than finding a new truth is really thought-provoking. But does this mean that we should be more cautious with our beliefs, always questioning what we think we know? How much of scientific and intellectual progress is really about eradicating errors in our understanding rather than simply adding new facts? It feels like critical thinking should be just as valued as innovation.
UGUser Google
Darwin’s quote suggests that removing errors can be even more valuable than discovering new truths. I’m curious though—how do we know when an error is significant enough to be worth eliminating? Could this focus on error-correction lead to stifling progress if we spend too much time disproving things? It makes me wonder if our society places enough value on learning from mistakes rather than always pushing for new information.
LTNguyen Le Tuan
I find Darwin’s perspective on killing errors quite interesting. If eliminating errors is as valuable as discovering new truths, does that mean we should focus more on testing and questioning what we know rather than just looking for new facts? How do we determine which errors are worth addressing, though? Can we apply this thinking to everyday life, where sometimes it feels like people are reluctant to admit mistakes or errors in thinking?