It's All Greek to Me...

"What those ancient Greeks, who after all did know a little about philosophy, assumed to be a task for a whole lifetime... with that everyone begins in our age... Faith was then a task for a whole lifetime, because it was assumed that proficiency in believing is not acquired either in days or in weeks. When the tried and tested oldster approached his end, had fought the good fight and kept the faith, his heart was still young enough not to have forgotten the anxiety and trembling that disciplined the youth, that the adult learned to control, but that no man outgrows -- except to the extent that he succeeds in going further as early as possible. The point attained by those venerable personages is in our age the point where everyone begins in order to go further." --Johannes de Silentio in Fear and Trembling

Fear and Trembling is an outstanding book by one of history's greatest thinkers, and within its astounding whole it contains many small bits that are wonderful to chew on thoroughly, savouring the wisdom of Kierkegaard. This brilliant selection is from the Preface, and in fact sets up one of the major problems of the book. In the interest of masticating completely before swallowing, I will take this quote in a somewhat different direction than the context dictates, but one with which I think Kierkegaard would agree.

The question I will pose today: why are our children not given a thorough grounding in Greek philosophy by the time they exit high school? Does this seem like a stupid question? Many people, even academics, regard philosophy with an (un)studied distaste. Certainly much modern (I use the term in a general, not a technical, sense) philosophy engages in silly semantic disputes and intellectually masturbatory thought projects. This has less to do with the nature of philosophy than the nature of philosophers. In fact, these self-satisfied charlatans provide even more evidence that what is needed is a return to the bedrock of thought.

Essentially, what Western Civilization has produced is a society largely devoid of people who can think. Note that I am not saying society is stupid (that is a different question entirely); merely that most people can't or won't think in a clear, consistent manner. I believe that this is a result of having gone beyond the Greeks.

What, exactly, do I mean? I mean that when people set out to think about things or solve problems, they take for granted an indescribably long list of assumptions which they do not question. Nor have they ever questioned these assumptions. They stand entrenched, never wondering if the foundations are secure. (Perhaps I should take a moment to offer this disclaimer: I consider myself to be very much a part of my society. This is in no way an attempt to place myself above others; I too engage in all the activities I describe. I have a very great distance to go before I could even be fit to untie Socrates' sandals).

The point I am driving at is this: most people, when considering a problem, engage in a very great amount of intellectual arrogance. Take any political problem, and you will usually find that both sides clamour voraciously for their position. Dig a little deeper, and you will find that they do not even acknowledge the existence of their presuppositions. This is why so much political discourse is useless; the opposing sides may as well be talking about the completely different issues, from the lack of clarity about what precisely is at stake.

Or take an academic discipline. I will use sociology as an example, because I find so many unexamined presuppositions among its practitioners, and it is a little less controversial than, say, one of the hard sciences (I will sometime talk about the hard sciences and their faulty presuppositions, but that is another post entirely). *Disclaimer: I do not wish to besmirch sociology as a whole. I know quite a few sociology majors and respect them, and the only soc class I took in college was taught by a very good, very sane professor.*

Before beginning a career in sociology, one should presumably engage in s study of how sound a pursuit it is. What kind of knowledge is gained from sociology, and how does one obtain it. Is it a logical process? An empirical one? An ethical? Intuitive? Imaginative? Once we have answered this, we may proceed to ask other questions. How much stock should we put in the answers we receive? Are our findings indisputable truth, or are they an imaginative insight into the human situation?

Unfortunately this is not what you find in the majority of cases. Fools rush in; the basic principles of sociology go unquestioned in the haste to make a profound statement (the assumption that leaps to my mind in the case of sociology is the idea that sociology is a scientific pursuit, and the assumption which underlies that- even more pernicious- that it must be scientific in order to have value). From that point on, however interesting the data I collect, something will be missing from my sociological work.

This sort of going beyond quickly spreads to all of society. Once an academic pursuit is established, its findings are usually presented as irrefutable by wider society. Anyone with a PhD. is suddenly qualified to make any statement, however outlandish and have it regarded as credible. Not that I think it is wrong to have authorities on subjects, but accepting something without thinking about it first is a dangerous fallacy which we all commit day after day.

Put another way, we as a society are essentially technology driven, not knowledge driven. That is, we look for solutions which work and then move on, not bothering to wonder whether something is actually true. As a result we love having our presuppositions ready made for us, and we are eager to devour any warmed over thought system sent our way.

But wait, you may say, that isn't the case. We as a society value cynicism; we question everything! In reply: first, that simply isn't true. Cynicism may hold sway in certain sectors, but it is by no means the norm. Second, even this sorry excuse for cynicism in society proves my point, for it is a shallow cynicism indeed. Our cynics latch firmly like leeches onto their banner cry "There is no truth!", but none I have met have ever clearly thought through their reasons for such an attachment. Their cynicism is based on nothing more than a puerile distaste for authority (as witnessed in the intellectual inconsistency of most cynics, who in fact only doubt what is inconvenient to them), not a detailed examination of the limits of epistemology.

Alright, this has been a long post already, and you may find yourself wondering what all this has to do with teaching Greek philosophy to our youngsters. We, like Kierkegaard's age, have gone beyond the Greeks. We have hastily built up our system of knowledge but never pored over it for cracks. We consider it a small thing to move beyond Plato, since obviously we are much more advanced than he. Yet is this really the case? What if we are the simple ones?

This raises another point: our chronological bias against the Greeks. This comes in two flavours: first, we think that, since we come much later, we have obviously accumulated much more knowledge and wisdom than they. But this assessment only works if you consider human knowledge to be constantly progressing. Is this really the case? True, we may gain more facts about the remote operations of the galaxy, but has our knowledge of mankind really expanded? Or have we been chasing down rabbit holes, leading to nowhere? Pound for pound, the Greeks tend to be more profound about human nature than any modern commentator.

Second, we tend to view the Greeks as so old (and Lord knows we detest old things). Like a creaking wheel, the Greeks have worn out their welcome among us. But, viewed from another angle, it is not they who are old, but us. We live 2,000 years after them, with the weight of all those epochs bearing down on our bones. They are the youth of the human race, filled to the brim with curiosity and wonder. We are the old, dyspeptic senior citizens, so deeply mired in a rut that we fail even to recognize the hole we have dug.

By introducing our children to Plato and Aristotle (as well as less obvious things such as Greek tragedy) at a young age, I believe we may begin to counteract the thoughtlessness which is rampant in society. Let us start with Socrates. This infernal gadfly on the backs of the Athenians has much to teach us about questioning our presuppositions. Many men of Socrates' day went about their lives never bothering to question their basic ideas about the good, the just, the beautiful. But that darned Socrates would not leave them alone. He would always butt in with some remark which showed their presuppositions to be empty posturing (no wonder they put him to death!). What better remedy to the sleepy thought of modernity that the harsh bite of the gadfly?

If Socrates was the wrecking ball operator of Greek philosophy, smashing down tottering buildings, then Aristotle was the dedicated mason, patiently building his system brick by brick. And what a system! Has anyone in the history of thought come close to the depth and breadth of knowledge displayed by Aristotle? These days we smugly dismiss Aristotle because many of his ideas, especially regarding physics and the like, have turned out to be untrue (at least by our estimation). But the value in studying Aristotle comes not so much from his ideas (although those still hold a great deal of water) but from the thorough clarity with which he writes. Aristotle leaves no stone unturned, and he is fascinated even by the little things we would dismiss as fundamental to our own investigations.

Of course, I have no expectations that something like this will ever be implemented. Still, perhaps one of the ten people reading this will be inspired, and will start reading the Symposium aloud while their first child is still in the womb.