Why is a raven like a writing desk?

This riddle, attributed to Lewis Carroll in his book Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland, has no answer. It was designed to be an unanswerable riddle – but that didn’t stop people from trying. Many answers arose from precocious readers – “because it can produce a few notes”, or even “because there is a ‘B’ in both and an ‘N’ in neither”. Carroll had originally put down that “it was nevar put with the wrong end in front” (although the editors vetoed the pun’s inclusion). Needless to say, it was not designed to be a serious answer, although one can scribble down tens of features that ravens and writing desks share.

Just like the questions I plan to take upon myself to answer in this blog, it may be unanswerable. Sisyphean. There is no objectively correct, standalone answer above all others which can be proven so, but some answers may be better than others. Why do people attempt these questions with no answers anyway? Perhaps they feel the need to prove their ability to do such a task. Perhaps they feel obligated to do it. Perhaps they do it to better understand the rhetoric of the question, or to combat their own predisposition, and derive some deeper meaning behind it. Perhaps it helps them become more intelligent, empathetic, or wise. Perhaps they simply find it fun.

Subjective questions (much like non-deterministic riddles) may not have definite answers, but some may be considered more “right” than others – and these answers may change circumstantially.

Imagine a small neighborhood in a rural area – it is a famous tourist destination. The time is 10:48 am. This particular neighborhood resides about 15 miles from the nearest town, where there is a popular restaurant. There are two routes from this neighborhood to the restaurant: the highway, and a scenic byway. Let’s assume the highway can get you there in twenty minutes, while the scenic byway takes around half an hour. Which route is the best one to take?

The question regarding this story is designed to accept a single correct answer. And to many people, a correct answer is clear. Let’s say you work at this particular restaurant, and you work at 11 am. You stayed up too late the night before, hit the snooze button on your alarm one too many times, and now you find yourself awake at 10:48, twelve minutes before your shift is supposed to start. The answer is obvious – if you take the highway and traffic isn’t bad, you may be able to mitigate as much harm as possible. To many, time is a precious resource, and it would be wasted if they were to take a longer path – so they take the highway, as well.

However, this isn’t always the case. What if, instead, you were on a vacation, visiting some extended family who had just moved into this small neighborhood? They wanted to show you a cool restaurant you’ve never been to, and they don’t have anywhere else to be. You have never been on the scenic route, and aren’t constrained by a tight schedule, so perhaps this is the better route for you to take. Perhaps, even, you’re the aforementioned worker who’s running late, but as soon as you pull out of the driveway, you hear there’s been a crash on the highway, and traffic is stopped on both sides of the incident. Which route would be best to take then?

The question of which route is the best to take not only varies depending on your personality or circumstance, but also upon the circumstances of others! This shows us that many questions are not as they seem – and many questions are even crafted to incentivize us to answer them improperly. Questions are a tool to gather input, whether that input is designed to be subjective or definite; however, some questions are far too limiting in their parameters, and some questions are posed with too little supplemental information to give a useful answer.

This blog aims to answer questions asked in earnest, and provide an honest assessment of questions which may leave out crucial information. After all, the answer to a question can only be as good as the sentiment of the inquirer. The best teachers do more than answer questions – they can determine the intent of the inquirer based on the questions they are asked, and attempt to understand what the inquirer truly needs to hear.

So why am I taking it upon myself to answer such questions? Perhaps I feel the need to prove my ability to do such a task. Perhaps I feel obligated to do it. Perhaps I do it to better understand the rhetoric of the question, or to combat my own predisposition, and derive some deeper meaning behind it. Perhaps it helps me become more intelligent, empathetic, or wise. Perhaps I simply find it fun.