I teach Shakespeare at a public sector university in Lahore. In a recent end-semester examination, I asked my English Literature class to respond to a question that was basically in the ‘whose fault was it all’ category. The replies were interesting for what they did not offer. Albeit the academic setting, the responses yield some insight into general patterns of thought prevalent among young minds in the urban middle class. I was wondering if they could present a context for studying terrorist attacks and the rising violence and brutality in society. This is what obliged me to share some of the opinions from what was, otherwise, just another bundle of examination papers. I have limited myself to the content in order to maintain the anonymity of the students. The question was about Shakespeare’s Macbeth, the story of a Scottish general who is prophesied to become king of his country. Macbeth fulfils the prophecy by murdering the present king at his wife’s prodding. Then, one crime leads to another. Macbeth’s reign of terror eventually comes to an end with the bizarre oracle of his death coming true in equally bizarre fashion. The question candidates were asked to respond to was this: “An important issue in Macbeth is the question of ‘agency’; who or what makes things happen in Macbeth?” Out of 47 replies, 27 placed the blame squarely on Macbeth. Fifteen blamed Lady Macbeth for psychologically bullying her husband into committing the murder. Five cited the witches who tell Macbeth his future, while also hinting at other inexplicable forces working in tandem to bring about Macbeth’s downfall. Most of the young boys and girls gave absolute, categorical replies: It was ‘his’ fault because oracles do not literally make you do something. It was the wife because she ‘makes him do it’ by cleverly appealing to his manhood. It was mostly an ‘either this or that’ affair, reflective of a reluctance or inability to explore alternatives. What were conspicuous by their absence were grey areas. Very few students talked of the inherent difficulty of assigning responsibility in a scenario of such moral complexity. I was almost waiting for someone to express their inability to answer such a question in clear-cut terms. You might say, “So what? They were replies to an examination question that do not signal anything beyond the ephemeral.” Can it be argued that most of the replies show a tendency towards being quick to apportion blame? Have young minds been encouraged to form fixed opinions and give quick verdicts? Do we promote a way of thinking that finds moral complexity disturbing, one that excludes factors that do not fit into predefined categories? Do we promote ways of thinking that resist opening up to uncategorised possibilities? And, in some cases, does that ultimately lead to mindsets that are incapable of tolerating dissent? It would be too broad a generalisation to say that Pakistanis are, as a nation, rigidly judgmental. However, based on my experience with hundreds of students over a period of eight years, I find it plausible to say that there is a profusion of moral certitude in young minds. And it is my considered view that this is indicative of a much larger malaise in society. Step outside the educational institution and take television talk shows as an instance of this situation. On many occasions, whenever there is an attempt to debate a contentious issue, the response is largely emotionally charged, parochial and uninformed. There seems to be little enthusiasm for basing evaluations on facts rather than on opinions, or for getting your facts right before embarking on a debate. During discussions, people tend to wax lyrical with emotive rhetoric, speak in high tones to stress a point and express their views with an air of moral superiority. There is just too much certainty everywhere. Very few of us are willing to say or think, “What if I am wrong?” This holier-than-thou certainty has partly led to the erosion of tolerance and pluralism in society. In recent years, extremism-related violence of all hues has formed a visible sore; what has caused the sore remains contentious and largely elusive. It can be argued that the larger malaise discussed above is the product of a desire for social control. This desire leads to imposing patterns of thought, in other words, telling people what it is appropriate to think. In social orders prone to enforcing regimes of truth and regularising the lives of their members, there will prospectively be an abundance of parochial assumptions with which people approach problems. Additionally, there will be uncritical or tunnel vision explanations for events. Such prismatic thinking effectively brushes aside ‘other’ possible explanations for things and events, and oscillates between rigid polarities. In the cultural narratives that such an imagination produces, there is little room for moral complexity, ambiguity and indefinable calculations and situations. There are ready explanations and totalising schemes for everything. In societies that oscillate between rigid polarities of right and wrong there is seldom space for individual exploration or fulfilment. In such places, young minds are likely to rely on truisms rather than on thinking creatively. What will institutions of higher learning do in such a scenario? The educational institution will either be eroding or reinforcing ingrained prejudices — theoretically. Practically, the likelihood is that it will be reinforcing them. This is one possible explanation for the intellectual oversimplification in the replies to the Macbeth question. This returns us to the larger issue of terrorism. The terror wave itself can be taken to stem from the one-dimensional cultural narratives of Pakistani society. In addition to our ways of thinking, these narratives were promoted by a host of other factors. Critics and analysts routinely cite mistaken policies, decades of indoctrination and other machinations while deliberating on these, but allow me to suggest that incidents of extremism-related violence should also teach us what incessant moral posturing can lead to. Conversely, it should also reveal that you cannot address the issues in a system that is riddled with complexities with oversimplifying narratives. What can we do now? Allow me to talk only about what institutions of higher learning can do. First on the list would be the adoption of a libertarian ethic. Success should not be gauged solely in terms of churning out graduates with sparkling scorecards. The academic environment should instead focus on fostering minds that are sympathetic to difference, responsive to debate and amenable to change. How do we do that? Teach students to question things — all kinds of things, from assumptions to behaviours, from values to fashion, from stories to explanations. Teach them the importance of dissent, of being yourself, of non-conformity and of respecting the fact that others have an equal claim to these ideals. So, what was the ‘correct’ answer to the Macbeth question? Who or what makes things happen in the play? Perhaps what we see is the potency of evil to act itself out. Maybe the witches’ prediction drives the crime. What if Lady Macbeth is the real witch? On the other hand, it is conceivable that the cause and effect matrix is so entwined here that the only thing you can say is nobody was solely responsible. Or maybe, Macbeth did it. The writer is an academic