Montgomery frowned. “That doesn’t seem to make very much sense.”
“It doesn’t at first to most of the people who come here. You’ve been warned away from it all your life. When you went to school they gave you an I.Q. test and put a label on you, which you were taught never to question. You were stupid, average, or brilliant and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it if your category was lower than you would have liked. Your attention was directed to the exterior world as it was described to you. And agreement with that description was demanded. If you saw wiggles where woggles were described, you learned to agree that they were woggles — or you had another tag applied to you: academic failure.
“In view of these discrepancies you were more than willing to agree after a time that it was best not to try to look into this sealed box you wear on top of your spinal column. That is the almost universal attitude we encounter.”
“And now I’m invited to take a look into the box, is that it?” Montgomery looked dubiously at the panels of the Mirror. “Minnie, the mechanical psychoanalyst!”
Wolfe smiled. “She’s been called that before, too. But that’s the one name that’s wholly inaccurate from the standpoint of function. The machine does nothing to interpret you to yourself. It doesn’t tell you anything or offer advice on how to adapt and get along better in the world. It does absolutely nothing but hold up a reflection for you to observe and make your own conclusions. It has only one control feature built in — and this is quite necessary. The extent of the reflection is governed automatically by your own fear level.”
“Fear —!”
“Yes. You will find that in spite of the simplicity of Socrates’ admonition it is quite a fearful thing to attempt to know thyself. So instead of taking a full, unobstructed view at first it is necessary to take a knothole view, so to speak. Get a tiny peek at one aspect of yourself and digest that and learn to live with it before broadening the outlook.”
“I fail to see why there should be any fear involved in this — as long as a man hasn’t committed some crime which he’s afraid to face.”
“We don’t need anything as melodramatic as criminal acts. You’ll see. As an indicator, however, you might consider the common, publicly acknowledged fact that Man uses twenty per cent or less of his available brain power. This is regarded quite sadly with clucked tongues about what a shame and a waste it is — but any determined effort to increase this percentage is greeted almost with fury. Psychoanalysis is a fair target for anybody’s humor. To ascribe one’s deficiencies to cruelties and inadequate care in childhood is to acknowledge ignoble surrender. You’ll find it quite curious that there should be such antipathy toward investigating and increasing the powers of the individual. It requires a genuine self-appraisal to be effective. And this is simply too painful. It has to be fought: ‘No thanks, I’m not crazy yet.’ ‘There’s nothing wrong with my brain!’
“There are two main causes for this reaction. The deficiencies of orthodox psychiatry cause it to miss the boat more often than not. It essays to deal with the explosive forces of human esteem - inadequately. The Mirror has no such drawbacks. It permits you to ask: Who am I? What am I doing? What do I know? And gives you a source of a perfect, undistorted answer: yourself. This is strong meat, however. A full, reflexive view is loaded with absolute terror. That’s why we begin with the knothole picture and expand gradually.”