“But,” Fluttershy said, “you were just lying there when I found you. And you... you, uhm, you smelled normally. ... uhm, as normal as somepony who hasn’t had a proper bath in months, that is. But not... I mean, I don’t think it would... would have kept animals from hurting you.”

“I had stopped using the spell for about a week at that point. I was so deep in Equestria that I thought it would be safe.”

“... oh.” Fluttershy took a sip of her tea, then a bite of her cookie.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” Fluttershy replied, but she winced momentarily. “I’m sorry! Don’t yell at me, please!”

Vi blushed notably, lowering her head.

“... Fluttershy, that was... I’m... I wouldn’t yell at you.”

“Th-thanks for saying that.”

“It’s a reflex to say ‘it’s nothing’ if you’re uncomfortable. What Rarity did was different. She had time to think about it and she chose to lie to Twilight in a letter! And it was totally unnecessary! She clearly didn’t trust Twilight at all!”

“I... I see.”

For a while, neither of them spoke, until...

“It ruined something between us,” said Vi. Fluttershy didn’t look at her, but eventually, she nodded.

“I don’t understand why. Please explain.”

“Uhm,” Fluttershy made. ... “uhm,” she made again, perhaps hoping for Vi to change the subject, who instead said nothing.

“It’s not that you scared me,” Fluttershy said eventually. “Or maybe it’s also that you scared me. It’s more that... ... ... that... uhm...” Her voice trailed off again, but Vi still gave no sign of wanting to interrupt her.

“I’m not the most honest pony, Vi. I... I’ve lied to my friends before, to avoid trouble... I’ve lied to Rainbow Dash dozens of times... pretended to be sick when she wanted me to do things I didn’t like... I’ve lied to Rarity about liking dresses she made... to Pinkie Pie about whether she was bothering me. I think most ponies do. Uhm. But... but I know how important truth is to you, and when you snapped at Rarity, I realized... it could have been me.”

Vi slowly nodded. “That makes sense. Thank you for telling me.”

“What... what do you think?”

“Hm,” Vi made, juggling her cup around in her magic while she was thinking. “... I’m not sure. There’s a failure mode where you want the world to be a certain way, and you want ponies you like to be a certain way, and then you hold them to unrealistic standards, and you’re incentivized to brush things off that contradict that standard, but eventually it’ll crash down and that can hurt... it’s happened to me before. I don’t want to repeat it. But, um, I want to make one thing clear: snapping at Rarity was stupid. It was a mistake and I regret doing it. It doesn’t matter how right you are – and I’m not saying I was – but even if I had been, shouting at others is stupid. It’s a bad strategy, no matter what your goal is.

“Also, there were a bunch of things that made it particularly upsetting for me. It was that she did it in a letter, when she had time to think, not under social pressure. That she did it to Twilight, who is the most honest pony I’ve met... aside from maybe my next older sister-”

There was a cough and then another as Fluttershy choked on her tea. “... sister?!”

“Um, yes. But let’s get to that later... she lied to Twilight, and she didn’t trust her. Who looks at Twilight and thinks she wouldn’t be understanding in that scenario? It was so stupid!”

Vi sighed.

“You don’t have to apologize to me for lying to your friends, Fluttershy. There’s no point in criticizing something that isn’t bad for anyone. If your way of doing things works for you, then-”

But Fluttershy shook her head, interrupting the filly. “No, Vi. I want to be more honest. I’ve always... uhm, sometimes... tried to be more honest. It’s just... hard.”

“As long as you’re trying, I want to be friends with you.”

Fluttershy smiled weakly. “Thanks...”

“So what did you want to say earlier?”

“Oh. Uh... right. About when you traveled here. You, uhm, you said you stopped using your spell when you got far into Equestria, right?”

Vi nodded.

“That was probably not a good idea. At least not if you traveled through the Everfree Forest. There are a lot of creatures in there that could hurt you.”

“‘Hurt’?”

“Uhm, yes. Hurt... or kill.”

For a few seconds, the filly’s expression didn’t reveal her feelings, until she dropped her head squarely onto the table.

“I’m an idiot,” her voice declared from under her mane, before she lifted herself back up. “I thought it should be harmless, given how idyllic Equestria is compared to Lûn. That’s what happens if you think of the world as a story; I had already made it through the hard part, therefore I was now guaranteed to make it. Ugh...”

“You didn’t want to smell gross when somepony found you?” Fluttershy asked softly.

Vi just nodded.

“If it makes you feel better, if you never went further in than when I found you, it probably wasn’t quite as dangerous. Though, sometimes, timberwolves or lions will go close to the edge... especially if they are hungry and smell you.”

“I’m an idiot,” Vi just repeated.

“So you have a sister?” Fluttershy asked, changing the topic. “Are your parents still alive, too?”

“Yes. I have seven siblings who are all still alive, at least as far as I know. I’m the fourth.”

“I imagined you as an only child,” Fluttershy murmured, visibly affected by the news. “The others, are they as, uhm...”

Vi raised her eyebrows, making a questioning gesture.

“Um, are they as smart as you? And as... analytical? And, do they have your condition?” She raised her left hoof, tapping her mane.

“I’m not that smart,” Vi said openly. “Twilight might be smarter than me... what makes me special is that I’m actually trying to use what I have – most of the time. But to answer your questions, they’re all pretty bright, except for my oldest sister – who’s also a brat – and my baby brother, who’s a bit too young to tell. He’s only three. Personality wise, we’re all very different. None of them has my condition.”

“And your oldest sister,” Fluttershy began carefully, “what’s wrong with her?”

“She’s just a terrible person,” Vi said matter-of-factly. “She’s not dumb, I almost wish she was, but she’s unreliable, short-sighted, and painfully selfish. And not as smart as she thinks. I want nothing to do with her ever again if I can avoid it. She still lives at home – ponies move out much later in Lûn than they do in Equestria – but I probably won’t see my family for another couple of years. By the time I do, I hope she’s gone.”

She picked up her cup, drinking the rest of her tea.

“More?” Fluttershy asked, and Vi nodded.

“Did you have a fight, or... anything like that?” she asked while pouring, but Vi shook her head.

“And... what are they... uhm... doing with their lives?”

“They’re doing well for themselves, relatively speaking, but they’re all held back by where they live. It’s just much harder to educate yourself in a place that’s so much less prosperous. That’s the real reason why I had to come here, I knew that the longer I stayed in Lûn, the more... just... time would be wasted, frankly. Now, whenever I want to, I can just go down one floor and get a book about linear algebra.”

Fluttershy made an odd sound.

“... what?”

“Uhm... I just can’t understand how anypony would study math voluntarily,” the pegasus said dimly. The cup which Vi had been toying with did a bit of jump as its owner involuntarily laughed.

“Sorry about that,” she said while Fluttershy stood up to fetch a towel, “but it was funny.”

“No problem,” Fluttershy responded, as soon as the item was being taken out of her mouth in a gray cloud. Vi took it to clean up what had been spilled, which was barely more than a few drops. “But, uhm, really, why is math important?”

“That’s a good question,” Vi admitted. “Most ponies won’t ever need more than some basic arithmetic. Except probability theory...” She spoke the term with carefully placed emphasis, “-which everypony needs-”

“I don’t,” Fluttershy threw in.

“-but nopony knows. Yes, you do.”

“Uhm, okay.”

“But I have a feeling,” Vi continued, “a feeling that when I’ll try to push the boundaries of Equestrian knowledge, that math is going to be important.”

Fluttershy took a sip of her own tea, looking skeptical.

“Also, studying math has so far helped me enough with unrelated things that it’s been worth it just for that reason. I’m to sure if I expect it to do that in the future, but I’d have said the same two years ago, so...”

“Helped... how?”

“I don’t know how I can explain that to somepony who doesn’t study math... but maths is everywhere! Functions, for example, are everywhere! And don’t get me started on sets-”

“I didn’t like those at all,” Fluttershy murmured.

“Sets?”

“No, functions. We had to draw them. In elementary school in Cloudsdale. I hated drawing functions. And I don’t like the smell of old feathers.” Pause. “What’s a set?”

“Everything,” Vi said ominously. “Everything, Fluttershy. Except for classes, but they pretty much only matter in set theory, and sentences of formal logic. Everything else is sets...”

“Well,” Fluttershy said with a giggle, “I’ve never seen one.”

“Sure you have.” Vi lifted up her cup.

“Um.” Fluttershy looked puzzled. “The cup or the tea?”

“Take a guess.”

“... both?”

“Yes.”

“Am I a set, too?”

“Um. I’m not entirely sure whether consciousness could be modeled in set theory... but otherwise, sure.”

Fluttershy drank the rest of her tea.

“Now that set is inside of another set.”

“Don’t worry,” Vi said reassuringly, “that’s normal.”

“I’m glad you came visiting today.”

“Yeah, I’m too.”

Fluttershy stood up with a smile, stepping next to the filly.

“I have some chores that I shouldn’t delay too much longer. You can stay if you want, but-”

“-animals,” Vi finished the sentence for her. “Yes. No. Thanks.”

“It has a certain charm,” Fluttershy said as she walked the filly to the cottage entrance. “This type of honesty, I mean. It makes things much less complicated.”

“I know, right?” Vi beamed.

“... but not everypony is like you.” She pushed the door open, and Vi stepped outside. “Well then... visit again, sometime.”

“Come in.” With a genuine-looking smile, Fluttershy waited for the filly to step inside before she closed the door behind her. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“How are you?”

The smile died on her face, and she instinctively turned around to hide it. “U-uhm... I am... not great. Would you mind going to my room?”

“No.”

Flicking her tail nervously, Fluttershy led them upstairs.

“I, uh, didn’t make sure we’d be undisturbed... so going upstairs is, uh, safer.” She opened the door to her bedroom. “That’s why I wanted you to visit,” she admitted, making a leap of thought back to the previous subject. “I like talking to you.” She sat down on her bed, and Vi sat down opposite to her.

“Anything else I can do to help?”

“Mhh... I’m not sure. I don’t... can’t think of anything.”

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you, or about something else?”

“I don’t even know what’s bothering me,” Fluttershy said wearily. “Well... there is the failed romance part, but... uhm, I don’t suspect that’s your... expertise.”

“I think I am biologically incapable of experiencing romantic feelings. It seems to be the only part of my brain that’s developing normally.”

“Your luck.” Fluttershy gave a quiet sigh.

“What about Rarity?”

Fluttershy bit her lip.

“Wait,” Vi said, “it’s not her, is it?”

Fluttershy laughed, then her laugh turned into a giggle.

“... no. It’s not her.”

“But you don’t want to talk to her about it?”

“Frankly,” Fluttershy said, “no. She... I don’t think ponies always want advice when they talk about their problems... sometimes... you just want somepony to listen...” She sighed again. “... especially if you already know what that pony is going to say.”

Vi just nodded.

“You know,” Fluttershy continued, and now the words were visibly taking a toll on her, “for most of my life, I didn’t use to have things together as well as I do now... uhm, most of the time. Do you know at what age I fell down from Cloudsdale? Did you even know that I did?”

“Twilight told me. But I don’t know which age. Um, I don’t actually know how old you are now.”

“I’m twenty. I fell down when I was thirteen. I moved down half a year later. That half a year was the worst time in my life.” She took a deep breath. “You can’t possibly know this feeling, Vi. But when I lived in Cloudsdale, I was good at nothing. And I was the only one. Most had some talent at flying, some at weather work. One other foal also wasn’t any good at flying, but at least he was really good in school. I wasn’t. I... I was too shy to say things during class, and I was so bad at writing, and so slow, that I could never... just... even get my ideas on paper. And I hated math and...” Her voice had gotten hoarse. “... and perhaps if I had just asked the right ponies for help it could have been different, but I couldn’t, I...” She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were glistening with tears. “... you have no idea how much I want to be a unicorn, Vi.”

Silence.

“See, that’s why I like talking to you,” Fluttershy said, smiling weakly. “If I had told the same thing anypony else, she’d only tell me how silly it was. But it’s not silly.”

“That, um, would be a really stupid thing to say. I don’t know if we live in a caring universe, but if we don’t, then lots of ponies aren’t born into their preferred tribe. Probably even if we do...”

“C-caring universe?” Fluttershy asked in a whisper, brushing off a tear.

“The fundamental question of whether the universe is entirely apathetic or cares on some level. I’ve been starting to think it does care since I’ve been here... but, only to a small degree, that seems clear.” Vi gulped. “If I wasn’t a unicorn, I’d want to be one, too,” she added, then she cringed at her own words. “Th-that’s probably the last thing you want to hear. I’m sorry-”

“No,” Fluttershy interrupted her, “don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear anything other than the truth.”

“Several unicorns I know would probably be pegasi if they could choose,” Vi said. “It’s... sort of... considered to be the strongest tribe in Lûn. That’s mostly because unicorns there are much weaker at magic than those in Equestria. But if I had been a pegasus, even if I had been strong, I don’t think I’d have made it here. I probably wouldn’t have tried. You can’t fly higher than manticores, so unless I had come up with something really smart, and I have no idea what that would be, I wouldn’t have had any way to pass the Shrouded Forest with a reasonable chance of success. Most who try it die.”

“I would even prefer to be an earth pony,” Fluttershy hissed, in a voice that, surely, most ponies had never heard coming out of her mouth. “I hate flying. If I was an earth pony, I wouldn’t have grown up in Cloudsdale... that would mean a much happier childhood... and... even though I have something now that I am really good at, I... I might be even better at it, if...” She blushed, pausing. “... goodness, I really shouldn’t say that.”

“Why not? It sounds reasonable.”

Fluttershy raised her gaze, which had been set on the blanket. Then she nodded.

“I suppose it does. But,” she added, “I am grateful that I have been born in Equestria. And for having met the other girls, and... for many things. Really, I am not ... bitter.”

“I don’t care that much how grateful ponies are. I care about what they do. And Fluttershy, don’t for a second believe that you’re the only pony who isn’t thrilled with the body she has. Most earth ponies would choose differently if they could, they just aren’t honest enough to admit it, sometimes not even to themselves. They are stronger, and they have their own magic, but it doesn’t compensate for the ability to fly, and everypony knows it. Um, for most ponies it doesn’t, anyway. They envy us, Fluttershy, just as you might envy... um, Twilight or Rarity.”

“Just to be clear,” Fluttershy said, now in a different tone, “I don’t mind my body-”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“-just the wings. I know you didn’t.” Her voice wasn’t as sad anymore now, it even had a ring of humor to it. “... I just wish I could take a quill with magic. I hate mouthwriting so very much.”

Vi gave a helpless shrug. “... sorry.”

That made Fluttershy giggle.

“Thank you again,” she said, “for listening.”

“I think you’re not giving Twilight enough credit,” Vi replied. “She’s always listening to me, if...”

“Well,” Fluttershy said, “perhaps she’s treating you differently.”

“... you think so?”

“Yes, I do. Twilight and Rarity, they treat me too... delicately, and... um... patronizing is a strong word, but...” She lowered her gaze. “I’m shy, not empty.”

“Woah. Okay. Fluttershy, I think you should talk to Twilight about that. This sounds like a misunderstanding to me.”

Fluttershy sighed. “I... .... yes, you’re right. I should.”

“Your relationship seemed so great from the outside,” Vi said thoughtfully. “I’m updating towards assuming a higher density of problems among unknown variables in social relationships as my prior.”

“Uhm... that translates into being more cynical, doesn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“That makes me a bit uncomfortable,” Fluttershy admitted. “Does it help if I tell you that I love both Rarity and Twilight, and am grateful that they are my friends?”

“No, I already knew that. But you should never try to ‘fix’ an update, regardless of whether you like it. That’s the whole point of being rational.”

“Okay...”

“And I’m far from being cynical. I think most ponies are good-hearted creatures and that we – in Equestria, anyway – live in a well-functioning society with what looks like almost zero corruption.”

“Mhh... we do, don’t we?”

“Although it seems crazy how you are treating your wildlife.”

“Wh-what... what do you mean?”

“Well,” Vi said, “in nature, most animals live for a few years, until some predator catches them and they die a slow and painful death... right?”

Fluttershy bit her lip.

Then she broke into tears.

It wasn’t like before, where talking about her past had just barely pushed her over the edge, and she had perhaps shed a single pair. Now, she was crying freely, and after a few seconds, she crawled over to the other pony, who looked shocked at the reaction she had caused, leaning against her for support.

“P-ponies always c-come to m-me when they have a p-pet that can’t be s-saved a-anymore. Even when they first go to F-Fauna, she just sends them to m-me. It is the w-worst part of my job. But it is s-so much b-better than what happens to animals who are f-free. There is so much s-suffering i-in the wild, Vi. I... I can’t... I don’t... I... I... I...”

She sobbed, unable to finish the sentence.

“I want to stop that,” Vi said, her voice revealing that she was now far out of her comfort zone. “I want to create a world without animal suffering, or at least with a lot less, but first I-”

She didn’t get farther, because Fluttershy had hugged her. Vi struggled to keep her balance, but Fluttershy seemed too distressed to even notice.

“You’re the first pony who ever said one word about that,” she whispered into the filly’s ear. “E-ever. Nopony else... c-cares...”

“Well, um, it’s not natural to care about things you neither see nor have contributed to. I actually didn’t think you-”

“I hear... stories... about family members who have been... eaten.”

“Wait,” Vi said, “they actually talk to you?”

Fluttershy drew back, and she just nodded. “Wh-where is my tissue...” she murmured, looking around with teary eyes. “Th-there...”

“I got it,” Vi said, following the pegasus’ gaze and fetching the item. “May I? She asked, and Fluttershy nodded again, allowing the filly to wipe around her eyes, until she took the article herself to finish the job.

“I didn’t know that. When I first met you, you said that they don’t really understand you, that the words don’t matter to them.”

“I... I said that about m-mice, didn’t I?”

VI nodded.

“Mice can’t... tell me... but others... I don’t understand everything, but... I understand enough and... with time, I only understand them better.”

“Wow. That’s messed up.”

“M... messed up?”

“Yeah. It’s messed up how totally ignorant everypony is about animal intelligence.”

“I still don’t think they are ... c-conscious in the same way that ponies are,” Fluttershy murmured. “But they do... th-they do f-feel p-p-pain.”

“You’ve really been through a lot,” Vi said quietly. “I had no idea that you have to do... and hear those kinds of things.”

Fluttershy nodded. Then, after a while where neither of them spoke, she took a deep breath.

“Can I... can I ask you for something really... really ungrateful and inappropriate?”

“Yes.”

“I... uhm, I want to be alone now. Take a bath and... not have to talk to anypony... but I’m really-”

“That’s not ungrateful,” Vi interrupted her, standing up from the bed immediately, “and it shouldn’t be inappropriate. Thank you for trusting me enough to be honest.”

Fluttershy winced a bit, but didn’t protest. Her steps were shaky as they walked back downstairs.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as they reached the cottage door. “Thank you, Vi...”

Vi just nodded. “Take care of yourself,” she said, then she stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind her.

“Excuse me?”

And old, gray stallion in a uniform was walking towards the bridge that led over the stream that separated Fluttershy’s cottage from Ponyville. He didn’t show any sign of having heard her.

“Uhm, excuse me?” Fluttershy said again, louder. “Sir?”

He turned around.

“Oh, yes, ma’am?”

“You delivered the wrong mail.” She pulled a small bundle of letters out from a pouch she was wearing, offering it to him.

“Ohh... did I mix ‘em up again?” He took the letters from Fluttershy, looked into his own pouch, and picked out two of them. “Sorry about that,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry.

“Yeah,” Fluttershy just murmured, “no prob-... well, actually, it is a bit annoying. Thank you.”

She took the letters from the mailpony, who wasn’t even listening to her. Then her ears perked up. One of the letters was from...

She took a few steps to be out of sight, then she took the letter into her hoof. Using her magic, she pulled on it as strongly as she could and ripped it open, using her teeth. The detached part of the envelope fell downwards, but she paid it no mind. Inside, there was a single paper.

Dear Fluttershy,

I know from Twilight that you don’t want to join the party this Friday, and I understand why.

But I think you should.

Applejack has put some cider aside. There is going to be as much for anypony as she could want, for free. I have also gotten confirmation from Twilight that you don’t dislike drinking.

I think you should go to the party, I think you should get really drunk, and I think you should have a talk with Twilight once you are (I have not talked about this with her).

Trust me.

Vi

Fluttershy read the letter on the spot, then she shook her head.

“She’s such a kind pony,” she murmured. “But this is a terrible idea. Why does she think...”

She read it again.

“How do I tell her...” Nervously, she looked around, but there was nopony in sight. “... that I don’t want to... or will it be okay if I just don’t...”

She looked back at the letter. Then she looked towards her cottage.

Then, she slowly drove her tongue over her lips.

Finally, she bent down to pick up the piece of the envelope she had dropped, crumpling it up and putting it inside of her pouch, along with the intact part and the letter. Without saying anything else, she headed back to her cottage.

“And I said to Pinkie...” Fluttershy leaned on the pony in question, giggling mid-sentence. “... said to Pinkie that you said to me that you think everypony needs problablibity... probab... problipony theory-”

Pinkie Pie laughed, and Fluttershy joined her, though it wasn’t clear what it was about. “It’s not called problipony, silly!”

“Oh really? What would you know about maths?”

Pinkie Pie merely giggled, not bothering to respond.

“... and we concluded that you were wrong,” Fluttershy continued. “Isn’t that right, Pinkie?”

“Yeah! Sorry, Vi-ti-pi, but what would I need problipony theory for? Heheh...”

“Well,” Vi said, “imagine you are planning a special surprise for a party, and you are pretty sure that all of your friends like it, but not completely sure. How do you know the odds that, out of all five, at least four are on board for the idea?”

...

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” Pinkie Pie made, turning towards the pony leaning against her, their heads now only an inch away from each other. “You know, maybe she-” But then, suddenly, she turned back towards the filly. “Nah! Not convinced! You know why? I’d just listen to my tummy!” Fluttershy burst out laughing, but Pinkie didn’t let herself get distracted. “My tummy is great when it comes to knowing what my friends like and don’t like! Isn’t that right?” She dropped her head between her front hooves, looking at her belly from below. “Yeah! You are, aren’t you? Hehehe...” Her head popped back up. “So I really don’t need problipony theory, but I’m sure it’s great fun!”

“Well,” Vi began, but then, instead of continuing, she closed her mouth, smiled, and giggled. Pinkie Pie also giggled, and she walked over and ruffled the unicorn’s mane, as if she was a typical filly who had just said something silly. Vi looked up in time to see Fluttershy leave; for a moment, it looked as though she was heading towards the spot where Rarity was talking to Twilight, but then instead, she made for the barrel Applejack had brought, refilling her cup.

Vi turned her head away, a smile on her face.

Author's Note

Welcome to the first author’s notes wherein I address the audience rather than posting cryptic pieces of poetry or unfinished projects. Which is a shame, because I had a great thing I was going to post this time. I guess I just have to write the next chapter.

Anyway, please take 10 seconds to vote on this poll (https://goo.gl/nmrXQK). This will generate data necessary for world optimization. Thank you.

From SlateStarCodex:

Over lunch, a friend told me about his meeting with an EA philosopher who hadn’t been able to make it to the conference. This friend had met the philosopher, and as they were walking, the philosopher had stopped to pick up worms writhing on the sidewalk and put them back in the moist dirt.

And this story struck me, because I had taken a walk with one of the speakers earlier, and seen her do the same thing. She had been apologetic, said she knew it was a waste of her time and mine. She’d wondered if it was pathological, whether maybe she needed to be checked for obsessive compulsive disorder. But when I asked her whether she wanted to stop doing it, she’d thought about it a little, and then – finally – saved the worm.

And there was a story about the late great moral philosopher Derek Parfit, himself a member of the effective altruist movement. This is from Larissa MacFarquhar:

As for his various eccentricities, I don’t think they add anything to an understanding of his philosophy, but I find him very moving as a person. When I was interviewing him for the first time, for instance, we were in the middle of a conversation and suddenly he burst into tears. It was completely unexpected, because we were not talking about anything emotional or personal, as I would define those things. I was quite startled, and as he cried I sat there rewinding our conversation in my head, trying to figure out what had upset him. Later, I asked him about it. It turned out that what had made him cry was the idea of suffering. We had been talking about suffering in the abstract. I found that very striking.

Now, I don’t think any professional philosopher is going to make this mistake, but nonprofessionals might think that utilitarianism, for instance (Parfit is a utilitarian), or certain other philosophical ways of think about morality, are quite unemotional, quite calculating, quite cold; and so because as I am writing mostly for nonphilosophers, it seemed like a good corrective to know that for someone like Parfit these issues are extremely emotional, even in the abstract.

The weird thing was that the same thing happened again with a philosophy graduate student whom I was interviewing some months later. Now you’re going to start thinking it’s me, but I was interviewing a philosophy graduate student who, like Parfit, had a very unemotional demeanor; we started talking about suffering in the abstract, and he burst into tears. I don’t quite know what to make of all this but I do think that insofar as one is interested in the relationship of ideas to people who think about them, and not just in the ideas themselves, those small events are moving and important.