Turning Back the Wheel of Progress

…if we are to produce a society of educated people, fitted to preserve their intellectual freedom amid the complex pressures of our modern society, we must turn back the wheel of progress some four or five hundred years, to the point at which education began to lose sight of its true object, towards the end of the Middle Ages.
- Dorothy Sayers, “The Lost Tools of Learning”

I’ve had my head wrapped in Clive Staples Lewis for the past couple months (as I’ve been teaching this class), and the most notable feature of my study thus far is probably the sort of education he received and delivered. This, by and large, was “Classics” – but it was remarkably thorough in that he studied not just the history and language of Latin or Greek (the definition of “Classics” that I’d learned in school); his course of study applied such a wide range of disciplines to whatever he read. So, of course modern thought was important and fit for study, but the foundation of these modern questions was (and remains to be) found in antiquity. That is, all good and truthful ideas are really just old ideas – found in old books, written by old thinkers, and now (probably at an ever-diminishing rate) only taught by old dinosaurs of teachers (as Lewis might say).

My friend Dan recently recommended Dorothy Sayers’ article “The Lost Tools of Learning” – it’s really her set of suggestions about how to teach young people – from childhood to adolescence. She laments keeping kids in school too long, thus extending that adolescence; she prescribes a Scholastic model, based on Medieval practices (yes, there was a lively educational institution in those “Dark Ages”). You should learn Grammar, Dialectic, and Rhetoric all by 16.

And honestly, the “Scholastic School of Sayers” is something I would have shuddered at as a kid. But now the only shuddering I’m doing is based on the fact that I have read only too little of ancient thought and history. Better late than never, or so they say.

So, how does a 26-year-old catch up? Or a 30 something or older, for that matter? Its tough advice, since the learning curve is so steep – but I think we need to take Lewis’ advice for ourselves and READ OLD BOOKS, and we need to take Sayers’ advice for our children and TURN BACK THE WHEEL.

Aching for the dear reader’s thoughts on this.

‘Being dead’ is so last season!

Exactly.

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

Dear Reader, dear,
I’m hearing some stuff about the end of the university, or, maybe it’s the beginning… ? Well, I don’t want either. And I’m just starting up again, so give me a break! (If I haven’t told you yet, we decided, and we’re both enrolling in Talbot’s Philosophy of Religion and Ethics MA program.)

I’m talkin’ about stuff like this and this. I’m sure there’s more of it, too. We now live among a culture and people which, in this era, LOVE to pronounce the death and end of things. ‘God is dead!’ ‘Blogging is dead!’ ‘Eating food is dead!’ ‘Sleeping is so last season!’ I think this is reflective of the temptation of immediacy – to pick up and speed along. Maybe there’s even some “chronological snobbery” built into that (this “snobbery” is a term of C.S. Lewis, borrowed from fellow Inkling, Owen Barfield).

But the concerns about humanities departments (philosophy, religion, theology, english, etc.) “dying” don’t worry me. I’m not worried about going back to school. In fact, I’m more sure about this than LOTS of other decisions in my 26-year life. I’ll continue to pursue a patient spiritual, intellectual, social and academic lifestyle; and the foundation for this patience is the inherent value of thinking and contemplating (v. “to think long and lovingly” – thanks Dave Evans for that) about the world and everything, physical and non-, in it.

If there is any worry for anyone at all, the source must be the reigning (and thoroughly unwelcome, I say) pragmatism of all generations. Earlier in my life I would have said that cultural pragmatism (the kind that suggests going to college merely for a job, to make money) is a generational thing. Silly baby-boomers. But I’m starting to think it’s not generational. Worry comes in all shapes and sizes and ages and so does the pragmatism that dons the crown deep below the surface of that worry.

So I’m rebelling. I’m going to actually enjoy grad school, and I’m going to enjoy the debt we shall incur and the job scarcity and low salaries that follow from a life of academics. I’m hoping to learn a little more about the Classic, undying value for the intellectual life of mind, heart and soul, and what that means for the details of my life.

It’s gotta be a media thing – ironically enough, since ‘News is dead!” is not an uncommon hidden meaning in headlines these days. In fact, how’s “News is old!” for the next NYT headline? Double irony!!

So, media giants! you soothsayers of cultural fate! Will anything else be dead tomorrow? Pragmatists! you worrisome lot! Is anything else regrettably last season?

More importantly, and for the rest of us, is anything alive today? is anything eternal today?

Performative Speech Acts and Do-Overs and Bibles and Such

How to Do Things With Words

Guys, I’m sorry. I just can’t help it. It’s too interesting to a philosophy and linguistics double major. The following is a speech act – specifically, a “performative utterance.” That is, upon complete and accurate speaking of these words, in the appropriate context (as defined by the Constitution and American democratic tradition, in this case), the speaker not only has said something, but some act has been performed. Like me making a bet, “$10 on Timely Rider,” or me and Lani saying “I do” on March 31, 2007; or like God saying “Let there be light.”; or like…

Performing on Tuesday... or maybe not...

“I, [name], do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

J.L. Austin (PIPE!)

J.L. Austin was the first to take up performative utterances as a topic in philosophy of language. His student John Searle followed him. I took Searle’s class on Philosophy of Language when I was in school. A performative is an illocutionary act that bears to “truth value” – that is, it can’t be true or false. Rather, Austin and Searle offer that the sentence is either “felicitous” or “infelicitous” (“happy” or “unhappy”). A performative is only happy when it’s fulfilled.

John R. Searle

There are plenty of articles about the transposition of “faithfully.” Here are the articles (well, just a few of them).

AJC
NYT
Guardian
Steven Pinker

Pinker’s is the most interesting since he’s a cognitive scientist and linguist, and he explains the syntax of the problem (Roberts initially administered what is commonly thought to be more grammatically correct, that is, he did it without “splitting the verb” “will execute” with “faithfully”; but the Constitution does commit that grammatical error of splitting the verb…).

I’m not all that bothered about an inaugural do-over. I think it’s good that they “made sure.” And I think we go too far to say (as some have in fact said) that the oath doesn’t even matter, and that, regardless of the oath (or accuracy thereof), the prez-elect is officially prez at 12:00 p.m. during the inauguration. But then why even bother with the words? Well, because the oath and promise means something, and that’s one of the necessary conditions for being president (I don’t think it’s a sufficient condition, since it depends on other things as well).

But now, regarding the absence of a Bible…

It’s a little weird that he would flub while performing his oath WITH the Bible, but then arrange for an official do-over WITHOUT the Bible. Not to mention that the flub had to do with the word “faithfully.”

This explanation, cited in the Guardian, from US Constitution Online, isn’t sufficient I don’t think. In fact it kinda bothers me:

“There is no constitutional requirement that the oath be sworn on a Bible. There is also no prohibition. So, a Bible can be used, but so could anything, including the Koran, the Talmud, or a copy of Sports Illustrated. The point is not where the president’s hand rests when he or she takes the oath, but that the oath be recited, and then carried out.”

On the one hand, I agree that the important thing is the oath is taken and witnessed, but surely the physical presence and physical contact with the Holy (read: authoritative standard) Bible provides a reference for holding the person making the oath accountable. Does it bother anyone else? Do tell. I’m starting to sound like a Fundie conspiracy theorist. There are two questions here though: what ARE the necessary conditions? (touching a Bible doesn’t seem to be regarded as a necessary condition) and what SHOULD the necessary conditions be? And more specifically, do those necessary conditions for becoming president include inaugural traditions like using a Bible or having a Federal Justice administer?

Maybe boring to most. Interesting to me. But it could be historically and culturally important (and potentially indicative of a growing secularism) – if for no other reason that this would be the first time in our history that a president took an OFFICIAL oath of office without the Bible. A precedent, if you will. And maybe this has a lot to do with vocation, or literally, “vocare” – calling. No doubt, Obama’s vocation is tied to this oath. And given the traditional (albeit religious) sense of vocation – something that is God-given, spoken by the Divine, Personal Logos – what might that mean for the official version of the oath? Hmm.

Nevertheless, here’s to a felicitous presidency. Lord help him.

More on Humanities, the University and Classical Education

I was only recently introduced to the work and thought of Victor Davis Hanson. But from what I’ve heard and read, I’m looking forward to more.

In this article, he points out the value and benefit of a classical education (i.e., the study of classical history, literature, philosophy, philology, architecture, etc… the ancient stuff!). The benefits are: (1) Acquisition of generic methods of inquiry (what we’d call “critical thinking” or “how to think about life”), (2) Conveyance of “an older, tragic view of man’s physical and mental limitations at odds with the modern notion of life without limits” (I’m into that), and (3) Framing the “window of the West” (he argues that all subsequent trends of the Western culture/intellect, such as the medieval or modern eras, are really just tributes to or turnings from Antiquity and Classical tradition).

And he laments the loss of this classical education and study, which has led to, he argues, the degradation and shallowing of the American university. I’m still only learning about this; and being a product of the American university myself, I’m a little embarrassed for how I’ve served as an example of the shallowing Davis worries about.

But I worry about it too, and thankfully, my time in the university is not yet over (nor will it ever be over, if I could have it my way). I’m glad to be introduced to this at 26 years old, rather than 36, 46, or never… if there is life after 46… c’mon, just jokin’ ya! All to say, I’m intrigued, and wondering how I’m going to:

Learn Latin, Greek and Hebrew

Read primary accounts of classical history

Read Homer, Virgil, Marcus Aurelius, Plato, Aristotle (not to mention their critics)

Work my way through all the other important thinkers and writers and historians of the West

And still have time to walk Margaux.

Aye. God help me. I sense the looming, foreboding, impending temptation to multitask or take a speed-reading course.
Here’s to a patient and finite life of exploring the history of humanity, the plight of the fragile human condition, and the limits of my own existence!