“You think I’m insane?” said Finnerty. Apparently he wanted more of a reaction than Paul had given him.

“You’re still in touch. I guess that’s the test.”

“Barely – barely.”

“A psychiatrist could help. There’s a good man in Albany.”

Finnerty shook his head. “He’d pull me back into the center, and I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” He nodded. “Big, undreamed-of things – the people on the edge see them first.” He laid his hand on Paul’s shoulder, and Paul fought a reflex that suddenly made him want to get as far away as possible. (Kurt Vonnegut, Player Piano)

I’ve recently been listening to someone talk about edgework, a term for anyone who tests their own limits to the point of possible harm or death, through anything from adventure sports to crime to drug use to stock trading. Those who want to live and work and survive (or occasionally not) ‘as close to the edge’ as they can. On a physical level, I can understand the attraction, but only in theory. In practice, I won’t go on roller coasters, much less bungee jumping or climbing rooftops (though I enjoy photos of people doing just that, as for example here). I don’t do much in the way of drugs, and my worst crime is being bureaucratically inept. It can safely be said that playing on the edge is not for me.

But on an intellectual level, I’m looking for the edge. Not necessarily finding it, mind you, but assiduously looking. Being fearless about what I think, and being willing and able to stand up for it even when it’s dangerous. That’s exciting on a visceral level. Now, if only I could be really sure of what I think….

“You shouldn’t let fear of jail keep you from doing what you believe in.”
“Well, it doesn’t.” Paul reflected that the big trouble, really, was finding something to believe in. (More Player Piano)