You were not put on Equestria to "get it"
Ye Cannot Get Ye Flask
by Present Perfect
"Remember when Lemon Hearts got her head stuck in that beaker?"
Those eleven innocent words, spoken with a laugh by Minuette, were all it took for Twilight Sparkle to recall the scene. Sure, her nose had been buried in a book at the time, but it had been hard to not notice a yellow filly running around with her head jammed all the way inside a glass beaker, no matter how hard she may have tried at the time.
But wait. It wasn't a beaker. No, as Twilight recalled, it was actually an Erlenmare flask that Lemon Hearts had run afoul of. The distinct flaring was unmistakable to her mind's eye; beakers possessed a constant diameter all the way down. In fact, had Lemon Hearts gotten her head into one, it likely would have been no trouble to get it back out.
Twilight wondered for a second how Lemon Hearts had been extricated. She must not have been present for that.
Her thoughts turned to the mares she was once again trying to befriend. Science, logic and pedantry dictated she correct their oversight, since all three of them seemed to be sharing in the mistaken notion that a beaker had been involved. After all, hadn't a famous philosopher suggested that a pony consider truthfulness along with nicety, helpfulness and all that before speaking? When it came to statements, rightness was tantamount to kindness, at least as far as certain thinkers were concerned.
Twilight caught herself. This was one of those bad habits Spike was always nagging her about. Taking a breath, she put herself in Minuette's shoes for a moment.
Twilight couldn't be sure what it was Minuette did, per se, as the day's conversation had yet to turn to discussion of occupations, but scientific research was likely not a part of it. Indeed, the beaker/flask confusion spoke to a lack of the formal scientific education that Twilight had had. Mistaking a flask for a beaker was, she had to admit, a perfectly reasonable thing for a non-science-oriented pony to do.
What was a beaker to a laypony, really? Probably something along the lines of "science glass", if Twilight were being perfectly honest. They would have had to learn the difference back in elementary school science class, sure, but if she was the only pony among them who had kept up with her scientific studies, wouldn't it stand to reason that she was then the only one who knew the distinction? That it might not be too fine a point for a pony like Minuette to differentiate?
The next question came quickly: Wouldn't she want to know, then?
But no, Twilight was thinking too much like herself. She would want to know the details in order to correct her own ignorance. She had interviewed Zecora multiple times about Zebra culture, after all, hoping to atone for the faux pas she, along with her friends, had committed upon their first meeting. But Minuette, for all that Twilight had reacquainted herself with the mare for the last few hours, was definitely not Twilight Sparkle, and it was worth considering that a correction could be unwanted, leading perhaps to embarrassment or hurt feelings.
Thinking of Zecora reminded Twilight of another philosopher. Well, a psychologist, really, a griffon: Gerard the Gilded. He had postulated that all thinking creatures shared two very basic psychological needs: the need to be liked, and the need to be right. And while Twilight herself had met many a creature who made her question that notion -- a certain dragon, for one; a certain centaur, for another -- she nevertheless agreed that it served as a basis for approaching other cultures.
Culture changed the definition of "right" without removing either of those needs. So while a pony might balk at griffons consuming meat, for instance, and could return to Equestria to share her dismay at griffon culture -- assuaging needs of both like and right -- she would be "right" in the context of Equestrian culture. Likewise, the griffon chef in Griffonstone mocking her vegetarian lifestyle would find other griffons who shared that disdain, and together, they would be right, and they would like one another. It was a highly useful mental tool for working past ethnocentrism when dealing with other cultures, and she made a mental note to keep it in the forefront of her mind as her princess duties involved more and more diplomacy.
She tried not to think of yaks.
At this very moment, Twilight was balanced on the knife's edge of trying to be right. She wanted to intercede in the memory being shared among her three old friends, to show that she knew more, to help them learn. But she couldn't shake the notion that such "help" was rather condescending. Wouldn't it just be showing off? They already knew she was smart; they'd always known. She wasn't going to impress them by imparting the specifications that defined beakers and flasks as two very different subsets of glassware.
Instead, by being a pedantic, condescending know-it-all, she risked sabotaging the primary goal that had driven her to Canterlot: remake some friends. That need to be liked would be thrown to the wayside, and for what? This was no high-minded moral conundrum, where she might become disgusted by her company, argue from a point of righteousness, go home, and find solace with those who shared her beliefs. This was about a beaker. And a beaker was not worth losing her chance to reunite with these three ponies.
Besides, one portion of the memory had resurfaced, and Twilight found herself with even more concerning angles to consider.
"Whatever happened to Moondancer?"
"Moondancer?" Lemon Hearts asked.
"Yeah," Twilight said with a weak smile. "You know. Our other friend."
The friend whom she had completely forgotten about, just like these three. The friend toward whom, as a filly, she had been awfully pedantic. She had ignored that friend and her needs in favor of showing off how much she knew about chemistry.
Granted, it was but a single slight that had happened years ago. With any luck, Moondancer was just like these three, living a carefree life, and would be happy to see Twilight once again. But it was stuff for consideration in her future travails as the Princess of Friendship; as this trip had already demonstrated, Twilight had rested far too easily on her laurels. She had a lot yet to learn.
Yes, the beaker thing still bothered her, but for now, Twilight held her tongue and concentrated on these new old friends. When she got home, she would write "Erlenmare flasks are not beakers" on the chalkboard in her castle until her horn hurt. Nothing made her feel like she had some control over the world quite like repeating true statements in the face of ignorance.
Author's Note
This was inspired by the cover art. I saw someone making this point and thought, gosh, some pedant is gonna get saddlesore over the whole issue, so I'd better write something about it.
And then what started out as a goofy story about Twilight freaking over tiny distinctions turned into a philosophical treatise on how to be a good friend and not a pedantic asshole. And yet I kept the Homestar Runner and Big Trouble in Little China references! The Random tag is more about intent than content.
Oh, Gerard the Gilded is named after one of the psychologists who came up with that theory. See also social influence.
Thanks to Dubs Rewatcher and Cold in Gardez for feedback!
