The Failure

A hint of sunbeam looked ready to break through a front of dark clouds as the two
figures, hoping to escape the impending downpour, strode quickly across the
promenade. Suddenly, the skies emptied its cargo of rain several minutes before the old
Professor and his young student could duck safely into the ornately colonnaded Building
of Medicine located in the middle of campus.

The old Professor, fairly drenched, shook his head and proclaimed, “My, it is wet out
there.” He then wiped down his flowing raiment with a sweep or two of his leathery
hand.

The young student, also dripping wet, nodded. The old Professor then said, “I believe it’s
time we get down to business.”

The old Professor directed his young student to sit down. “You do understand, I hope,
that it will be not be possible to permit you to practice medicine in this community
because of - ”

The young student cut him off. “Master, yes, I realize that I failed the final examination,
but I place no relevance on that misleading, indeed, foolish, test. It does not reveal my
talents nor does it demonstrate my skills and knowledge in the field of medicine.”

The young student relaxed a bit in his chair, visibly relieved he had finally spoken out
about this affair. “You are aware, Master,” he continued, “We have, uh, how shall I say it,
quite a different - ”

This time, the old Professor cut his young student off. “Yes, quite a different perspective
on the philosophy and practice of medicine, I daresay.” Now, the old Professor was
growing impatient. After all, he was only doing his job, which was to uphold the integrity
of the institution. His words turned sharp and uncompromising. “I care not of your
philosophy. I know what I know and what the higher forces of reason tell me, that you
failed your examination!”

The young student stared blankly as the old Professor continued, now in a more calm
and conciliatory tone. “Surely, you understand that this institution cannot permit you to
hold a medical license with such views. My good boy, what would the citizens of our
community think?”
The young student could feel his emotions flare up, but he held his temper in check.
“Master, I failed your test for one simple reason: because I dared to think for myself.”

The old Professor waved a hand and scoffed. “Think for yourself! Bah! Have you learned
nothing, nothing at all?”

The young student began to feel emboldened, like he was holding the upper hand, and
said, “Master, respectfully, if I may - ”

“If you may, what?” retorted the old Professor. “Defy our hallowed theories of
medicine?”

The young student could take no more of the old Professor’s drivel and began to shed his
respectful tone for one slightly more blasphemous. “Master, clearly superstition rules
your mind. For me, I believe only in facts.”

The young student rose and pointed a finger at his elder. “I failed your test because I
answered the first question with truth and facts: that diseases have natural causes. Do
you hear me! Natural causes! And I suggested that treatment of all diseases should be - ”

Here the old Professor, clearly shaken, dropped his white bearded head into his hands
and sighed, “Yes, yes, taken out of the hands of religion, you wrote.” He remained silent
for a few tense seconds, then looked up at the young student with a firm conviction. “We
are finished here. I have no more time. I will grant you permission to retake the
examination in the next cycle. If you pass the test on your final try, the Institution of
Medicine will issue you a license.”

The young student pursed his lips and did not speak for a solid minute. Then he said,
“Master, “I am a modest man. Life is short and art is long, the occasion fleeting,
experience fallacious, and judgment difficult, but mark my words, pass or no pass, I will
practice medicine in this community and be the best doctor of anyone. You shall see!”

And the young student named Hippocrates then stormed out of the Athens Building of
Medicine and disappeared into the thunder and din of the heavy rainfall.