It wasn’t clear whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, and he didn’t dare to ask, since it seemed that the administrator tended to take it for granted that he would know what was or was not a good thing, and uncertainty about the goodness of a thing would amount to an admission of ignorance, which would guarantee correction. Correction was always guaranteed, in general; and welcome, by definition. He was almost certainly making a mistake by not rising on his one remaining foot to ask for correction, which might come as a relief, as hard as that might be. Corrections were hard; that was consistent with standards. Trying to avoid that hardness was a sign that you were naively attached to your ignorance, and perhaps also, as it were, getting ahead of yourself, since calculations based on any prospective extension of standards would require a more thorough understanding of them than anyone could be expected to possess, perhaps even within the sending institution. This understanding primarily takes the form of a recognition of the intrinsic boundlessness of the standards, which entails the interminable accumulation of recommendations. These recommendations arise as a consequence of corrections. Each correction clarifies a point in the standards. The overall shape, the intended goal, is a chimera in thought now, and will only become clear as standards develop, correction by correction, recommendation by recommendation: this is the method of the standard. He is drawn back into the present by a dull pressure that grows against the middle of his back. There is a nerve-wracking shudder, and a sickness, as he is fed, and it takes some time for this alarming sensation to fade again.