Learning by the Blade or From the Chalice
Detaching from our need to be right, so we become open to possibility
In this article, I will explore two contrasting approaches we might take in life and learning using the metaphor of the Chalice and the Blade.
The Chalice and Blade have been used as symbolic devices throughout history.
The blade symbolises:
The destructive power to take life
Hierarchical and authoritarian relationships
Conquest and control
Decisiveness
The chalice symbolises:
The creativity of life-giving and nurturing powers
Egalitarian relationships
Cooperation and linking together
Receptivity
In her 1987 book, ‘The Chalice and the Blade: Our History, Our Future’, Riane Eisler uses these symbols to contrast the way different societies have emerged in history, The blade represents ‘Dominator Societies’ manifesting as patriarchal societies, while the chalice represents more egalitarian ‘Partnership-oriented Societies’. She suggests that early human societies were more oriented towards the partnership model, with a shift towards the dominator model around 5,000 years ago.
Let’s start with some family therapy
There’s a certain person in my family whom I’ve learnt to avoid in conversation about anything mildly nuanced or contentious, especially at the dinner table where politics, religion or nuanced social concerns might come up. The said family member has high intelligence, is articulate, and well-versed in formal logic. He’s a great debater and tends to come to the most innocuous of conversations with the attitude that he must win at the expense of his counterpart, destroying the logic in his adversary’s choice of words. He can be very condescending as he cuts through other people’s words with a sword.
In the past I would offer up counter-arguments and different perspectives, I like to explore the edges of things and the shades of grey. I’m quite well read but not as articulate as he is, and become tongue-tied in my responses in the crucible of debate. He seems to think that he is ‘right’ about the important matters of the world and that anyone holding an alternative viewpoint must lack intelligence - I don’t think he’s used to being challenged so conversations between us ended up being heated and unpleasant for other family members. I usually enjoy engaging in conversation with friends where we come with differing perspectives, however, when conversing with this particular family member, it feels impossible to change the conversation from a win-at-all-costs ‘finite game’ to a more exploratory and convivial ‘infinite game’ where the aim is to keep playing, to keep learning, to keep the conversation going without trying to ‘win’ at it.
These days, to keep the peace, I tend to disengage from contentious conversations at the dinner table. In everyday life, he is a kind and gentle person, but when conversations are treated as an argument or debate to ‘win’ we just don’t get the opportunity to relate. As a result, I feel that this particular family member doesn’t know me at all, there’s no relationship and neither of us are learning.
The point of this personal story is to illustrate the two contrasting ways of being in conversation. The blade is assertively right, cutting through words to attack and defend to be victorious. The chalice is open to ideas and other alternatives, receptive to something new, giving the benefit of the doubt to create the space for something else to emerge. Perhaps the chalice represents divergent thinking while the blade is for convergent thinking - decisively good at cutting off other options.
The etymology of decide:
The word "decide" can be traced to the Latin verb "dēcīdere", which means "to cut off" or "to determine". This Latin verb can be broken down into two parts:
"dē-" meaning "off" or "away from"
"caedere" meaning "to cut"
So the literal meaning in Latin was "to cut off" in the sense of cutting away options to reach a determination - it has similar roots to suicide or homocide - to “kill off” other options.
The blade has its place. Software engineering for example requires precise and logical thinking and adherence to established practices. It has a place in the military, in the operating theatre and in making decisive commitments in business, but for me at least, it doesn’t have a place in family conversation or in situations which call for exploratory conviviality - such as in teamwork, or collaborative learning environments. Such situations are more amenable to the Chalice.
Implications for learning
I’ve seen the blade wielded by engineers in team environments, particularly by more senior engineers whose tolerance is tested by the mistakes of those with less experience. Instead of being curious about the junior engineer’s misunderstandings that led them towards a sub-optimal solution, they will seize the opportunity to assert their competency, feel the warm glow of elevated superiority from being vigilant in spotting the error, and publicly admonish their counterpart. In this situation, maybe the junior engineer will learn from their public shame and never repeat the same mistake, but it leaves a scar and sets up a dysfunctional relationship. The less experienced engineer will not risk approaching the senior engineer for mentoring advice, leaving no foundation for a long-term learning relationship and the senior engineer misses the rewards of helping another engineer reach their potential.
"In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's there are few"
Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind.
Sometimes, senior engineers struggle to let go of their need to be right. The need to show off one’s expertise is ego-based. Our expertise is part of our identity so we assert it with the precision of the blade in order to protect and reinforce our identity. But to learn and develop as a person we have to let go of our attachment to our identity, we need to kill off our old identity if we want to change. Self-development initially requires self-destruction. Letting go of the drive to assert our expertise creates an emptiness, a vacuum to be filled with curiosity and open to new learnings.
A Zen Koan:
Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.
Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring.
The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. "It is overfull. No more will go in!"
"Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"
Learning requires the receptivity of the chalice, and this is especially the case in collaborative learning environments. The ego of the expert must step aside for the curiosity and awe of the beginner, being willing to look foolish, make a mistake or take a tumble, just like a toddler taking their first steps. The chalice represents the humility and vulnerability to learn in public, to take advantage of the ‘affective context learning’ as discussed in my previous article:
If you’re someone who is accustomed to projecting their expertise into situations, it can feel quite uncomfortable to adopt the receptiveness of the chalice. It will involve dropping your guard and being more conscious of your intent - being consciously open and curious.
Being curious requires a shift from a defensive, ego-driven stance to one of openness and learning. When faced with challenges or conflicts, we often default to a defensive position, trying to prove ourselves right. This reaction stems from a perceived threat to the needs for approval, control, and security. However, this mindset stunts our growth and understanding, trapping us in unproductive behaviour patterns.
Leaders and engineers whostrive for curiousity in their approach ask questions that encourage exploration and deeper understanding, rather than seeking to confirm preexisting beliefs or impose one’s idea of what is ‘right’. An open curiosity-driven mindset allows for fresh insights, better problem-solving, and more effective leadership, both on an individual level and within teams
Getting good at something requires you to accespt that at first you must get good at really sucking at something. If you’re accustomed to being the expert, the beginner’s mind will feel awkward, you’ll feel like you suck at all this humble vulnerability stuff. But if you want to learn, become an expert at sucking.
Situational discernment with the blade and the chalice
We need to be careful of falling into the trap of black-and-white thinking, seeing the blade as bad, or the chalice as good. Mischaracterising masculinity as bad, and femininity as good as is frequently the case in modern society - there are qualities to the blade and the chalice, to masculinity and femininity, that are complementary when used to bring out rounded perspectives and a more integrated and holistic approach. We need the right tool, and the right mindset, for the job.
Context matters, we need the right tools for the job. If you are in a situation which calls for decisiveness, a delicate operation requiring expertise, or an emergency which calls for a hierarchy of command then you need the mindset of the blade to cut through the noise and get to the heart of the problem. The blade is a useful tool when you are seeking to ruthlessly eliminate waste creating bottlenecks, or need the courage to get to the truth of a difficult interpersonal situation.
On the other hand, if you are working collaboratively to solve a problem, working experimentally to explore the systemic causes, discovering patterns and making connections, to learn as much as you can about the situation and how people are affected, you will benefit from the open curiosity of the chalice.
The blade might be useful for defending the boundaries around your learning, saying ‘no’ to interferences and distractions, and forging the discipline to stick to a learning practice - but the mindset in a learning environment benefits from being curious over being right, being open to possibility rather than being the expert.