Lance Phillips • March 31, 2026
The other day I was looking over the books on my bookshelves. I wasn’t looking for a specific title, necessarily, but I was looking for something. Sometimes, I’ll glance over the shelves simply to see what jumps out, what I forgot I had, or what stories the books themselves have to tell me. Two weeks ago, a short parable popped into my mind. It’s called Of Modern Inventions, and I read it many years ago. I remembered having a copy of the parable in a larger collection of Hasidic tales collected by Martin Buber in the 1930s. After scanning the shelves, I found it, Tales of the Hasidim: Later Masters. My copy was published in 1974 and I picked it up at a library book sale probably twenty years ago. Luckily, it has a very distinct cover designed by Leonard Baskin so it was easy to find. Here’s a picture of the cover.
This particular parable is attributed to Abrahamn Yaakov of Sadagora. Of Modern Inventions has stuck with me over the years because it asks us to consider what objects in our lives do, the words we use to talk about them, and our own capacity for seeing through the veil of pedestrian use. Many people would call this attention, which it is, but I would argue that it is something deeper, something that goes beyond noticing. This kind of thinking pulls us into relationships with the world that seem mundane, maybe even adversarial, when, in fact, they are opportunities for clarity, and by extension opportunities for change.
Hear me out: when we examine the actions of a train or a telephone and we describe those actions we’re seeing the world as it presents itself to us, but when we see what those actions mean when applied to philosophical ways of thinking about the world, suddenly the paths toward change become illuminated. Recognizing that the simple doesn’t have to be just the obvious: it can be a revelation, too. Here’s the parable:
“That what we say here is heard there.”
Whether the “there” in the previous sentence references a religious worldview or a secular worldview, the emphasis is on the power of everyday speech and everyday action. The words you choose to describe your life have power and they will be heard and they will encourage change. Describing exploitation or abuse or love or kindness or humanity when you see it will make it possible for others to do the same, which will lead to opportunity to improve the lives and relationships around, and to a deep engagement with what those in your larger orbits see as power.
How would most people’s behavior change if they were made aware that their words are amplified for all to hear? So, I guess there are a couple of take-aways from this little story. First, simple, even mechanical, relationships are, in fact, philosophical inquiry if given the proper energy; and second, we have a responsibility to speak in a way that empowers us, because everyone is listening.
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