College of Letters in Moscow. The sole copy machine was kept under lock and key.) So you are going through a real Xeroxing euphoria, when you can make copies of anything at no cost. You are in fact in the same situation we are, maybe it’s even more serious for you, since here the copy machine is a novelty. But we tell ourselves the same thing: students don’t have money for books, because they cost a lot for us, too. Books are not any more expensive than they were, relatively speaking, in my time. But think how much money your generation spends, for example, on cassettes, CDs—goodness, on batteries! Why don’t you spend it on books, if you’re a student? A student reads books. That’s his job. Maybe I’m just old-fashioned, and the truth is that today’s students don’t read originals, only copies. Still, I believe that something is lost if they never own these books. When you are done with a course pack, you throw it away. It is not a beautiful thing, something you want to keep. In a way, course packs feel like ID cards, documents, bureaucracy.
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Marius Lazurca: If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a more personal question. You said once, before we started recording, that Dostoyevsky appeared in your life in a certain moment, that he made an impression in this moment, but later you moved away from his vision of the world, toward a different cultural sphere. Would it be correct to say you traveled from a period of belief toward one of atheism?
Michael Heim: No, I wouldn’t say that.
Marius Lazurca: Or, to put it another way, from a period of unknowing piety to lucid atheism?
Michael Heim: Not at all. I would love to answer this question, I don’t mind at all. When I was 16 or 17, I was searching, like all young people, I wasn’t any different, but maybe I thought I was, at the time. This is why I like to teach Dostoyevsky to young people. I know that this author may become very important for them, that they need a point of reference for their ideas, and Dostoyevsky seems like a good choice. I enjoy his books to this day, but I do so from my students’ perspective. Chekhov never mentions God, but he seems to show a world in which imagining God is possible. It is much subtler, a veiled way of speaking about the divine, an approach that later became stimulating for me, as much intellectually as spiritually. I found something like it in works by Central European authors. They don’t try to fix my problems, don’t offer solutions or try to make me their disciple, but instead, their texts suggest new ways to think about the ideas that interest me, ways I would have not discovered on my own. This is why I believe that literature plays an extremely important role for those drawn to study the spiritual side of existence. For me, as a twentieth-century person, Havel’s words are extremely important—perhaps even more important than Dostoyevsky’s theology. We are part of a world in which we, the human race, are not alone, but connected to a power above us, which we can call whatever we like, but which calls on us to take responsibility for our deeds. If we don’t think reality is above us, but within us, then perhaps there is no real reason—this is going to sound like Dostoyevsky—why we shouldn’t kill each other. Responsibility for our freedom—words that again sound like Dostoyevsky, but I think that Havel’s way of putting it is more appropriate for the twentieth century—comes from the sense that we are not the sole or supreme beings in this world.
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Cornel Ungureanu: There is a great Hungarian author who wrote a Cultural History of Human Stupidity. Have you read it?
Michael Heim: No, unfortunately.
Cornel Ungureanu: I’m wondering what signs of stupidity you see in the world . . .
Michael Heim: I wouldn’t want to list one stupid thing or another, but you asked before what bothers me. In general—and I’d like to write about this sometime—it bothers me that people rush about without thinking, especially without thinking ahead. As a joke, I’d say that this is our contribution to the world, our Californian or American contribution. California is a good example: it only rains in two or three months out of the year, so when you leave home in the morning, you don’t have to wonder whether you need to take your umbrella with you, or if you will be able to have your picnic. You don’t have to think ahead, and from this, of course, many things follow. Almost all the stores are open non-stop—this is capitalism: you believe that if you stay open an hour later, you can make another dollar. But it also encourages people not to think, but to act impulsively, instinctively. We lower ourselves and reduce our lives through our refusal to think. I’m not saying you have to be serious, or even rational, all the time—I don’t want to give that impression—but the fact that we neglect cause and effect just because it’s simpler to do so . . . American capitalism profits greatly from this commodity. Thousands of things get thrown away . . . Someone put it well: we are not just a consumer society but a throwaway society. If you throw a bottle away, you don’t have to remember to take it to the store to refill it. That’s simpler. This means, on the other hand, that billions of these bottles are lost every year. This is just one example, but it shows how people waste their lives.
Sorin Tomuţa: I’ve heard the same thing about Germany.
Michael Heim: I wouldn’t believe it. Germans are, in fact, much better off than we are, as least as far as recycling goes.
Sorin Tomuţa: People don’t have to think and are encouraged to avoid doing so.
Michael Heim: Yes, they find it convenient. We Americans export this idea and the whole world welcomes it with open arms. Even if, on the one hand, it is a kind of American cultural imperialism, fashionably called “globalization,” on the other hand, it’s nothing we force on people. Take music, for example. I read somewhere that all types of rock have the same rhythm: the heartbeat. The music is meant to hypnotize you, in a way, keeping you from thinking. People who walk down the street listening to rock music on Walkmans look like they’ve been brainwashed. But this is just what they want: a type of music that doesn’t tax their brains. I don’t know what can be done about this, maybe we can try to show people that there are more useful things than short-circuiting their brains. Things that could help them find life more interesting. I don’t think it’s natural for people to do nothing, yet people do so little. I am sure you’ve read that in the United States, people spend on average six to eight hours per day in front of the television.
Cornel Ungureanu: What do you think of Clinton?
Daciana Branea: We were wondering about your politics . . .
Dorian Branea: Are you a Republican?
Michael Heim: No, Democrat.
Cornel Ungureanu: We only asked you that as a goad.
Michael Heim: I liked him at first, and I’ve tried to stay true to my first impressions. Yet, Clinton has made so many mistakes. And now, this scandal, so ridiculous . . . A friend in Washington says that his real problem is that he’s provincial and has never been able to shake it off. Bill Clinton comes from Arkansas and still has not learned that, if you want to do great things, you can’t allow yourself to get tripped up with small things. His sexual issues are a kind of small thing.
Sorin Tomuţa: It’s interesting that this Sexgate incited such a huge political storm. There are conspiracy theories . . .
Michael Heim: There’s no conspiracy, it’s just a small-time provincial who took advantage of his circumstances. This caused a ridiculous and embarrassing situation for everyone. We keep seeing how the European press makes fun of Americans for being so naïve. But in America, on all the call-in shows, people protested the nonstop coverage. There are much more serious
