“Paranoid, I believe you call an attitude like that, don’t you?” said Montgomery, his face expressionless. “A persecution complex —”
“Please —” Spindem’s face looked pained. “I am not here for the purpose of personal diagnosis, major. My only interest is in the effects of this Mirror.”
“I’m sorry,” said Montgomery. “Your question permits of no simple answer. Mr. Carling was utterly incapable of teaching mathematics in any way that would not make it completely repulsive. The subject held no fascination for him, and it was inconceivable that it should for anyone else.
“The principal was aware of Carling’s work, but he didn’t know there was anything wrong with it, either. The School Board knew the principal’s feelings and attitude and considered him a fine man for the job. Everyone knew - but nobody believed anything needed to be done about the situation. And Carling went on turning out his scores of pupils, year after year, who hated mathematics with an almost personal bitterness.”
“That is hardly to say that all this was deliberate and purposeful, even if completely true,” said Spindem.
“I thought psychiatry was the first to deny that any accident exists in human performance,” said Montgomery. “Your teachings are that when an effect is produced by human beings it was the intention of those persons to produce that exact effect. You are familiar with the individual subconscious, but there is a group subconscious, as well. No one would ever admit it was the purpose of my school to produce haters of mathematics. I say it was the purpose — the unstated, subconscious purpose of the entire group involved.”
Spindem made no comment. His lips pressed together in a thinner line as his eyes scanned Montgomery’s face intently.
“And the Mirror told you this?” he said finally.
“I was able to determine it for myself, after the Mirror minimized the fear of recognizing this fact.”
“And why should there be any fear in recognizing it — if it were true?”