I can hardly emphasize enough that, ultimately, each must discover in his own soul this longing to know. Nothing can replace it. This longing to know constitutes the very heart of what we are as rational beings, distinct in the universe precisely because we ourselves can know. In the last analysis, we have to wake up to knowledge. We cannot do that…till we reach a certain level of maturity or self-discipline. An experienced teacher can almost tell, by the light in his eyes, the day a student first wakes up and begins to want to know. No one can really find a substitute for his own personal attraction to the truth itself. If this desire is not there, no one can give it to us from outside ourselves. And if it is not there, it is undoubtedly because we have not ordered ourselves or put our interests aside long enough to wonder about things.
James V. Schall, The Life of the Mind, 9-10
Aristotle claims that “the first principle of all action is leisure.” Many modern people would be tempted to agree with Aristotle, thinking that we work so that we may have things we like and do things that bring us enjoyment. Yet, if modern people knew what Aristotle had in mind by “leisure,” it is unlikely that they would endorse such a view. Today, leisure, is synonymous with “amusement” or “entertainment.” A search online for “leisure activities” is likely to return such things as amusement parks, sporting events, or any number of outdoor activities or vacation spots. Yet Aristotle would hardly reckon these among proper “leisure activities.” In fact, these activities are quite un-leisurely.
What, then, does he have in mind? For the Greeks, the word leisure is σχολή (scholē), from which we derive the word “school” (a fact that never ceases to confound students), and meant both “time free from labor” or “spare time,” and also the content of that spare time. It was defined negatively as “time not working” and suggested the proper activities that a human being should be about while not working. Furthermore, the negation of scholē, a-scholē, meant “busy,” connoting “busy at work.” The word scholē was translated in Latin as otium and likewise denoted “time free from labor” and like the Greeks, the Romans negated this work to suggest “business:” neg-otium, from which we derive the English word “negotiation.” In the case of both scholē and otium, the time for “not working” connoted time spent in learning, thinking, contemplation, reading, writing, etc. In essence, it was time set aside for the mind, not the body, to work. This, as Aristotle indicates, is the primary function of the human being. Similarly, Isocrates argues that “it is acknowledged that the nature of man is compounded of two parts, the physical and the mental, and no one would deny that of these two the mind comes first and is of greater worth; for it is the function of the mind to decide both on personal and on public questions, and of the body to be servant to the judgements of the mind” (Isocrates, Antidosis)
Leisure activities thusly understood mean simply cultivating and using the innate, universal human faculties in the discovery and performance of truth. They are activities distinguished from “amusement” in that “amusement” is aimed only at pleasure. Leisure, on the other hand, is precisely the time for “musing” or thinking, not “a-musing” or not-thinking. Leisure activities are anything but idleness, for they involve a great deal of effort by the mind. An effort that is fundamental to the very nature of humanity, yet one so difficult that people would rather abandon the endeavor altogether (and consequently their humanity) than to take the time to pursue truly noble ends. And “leisure,” says James V. Schall, “is the noblest name of all” (Schall, On the Unseriousness of Human Affairs, 102). It is the noblest because it is what makes humans, human. Furthermore, these activities are ends in themselves, and not means to other ends, as is work. As Mortimer J. Adler points out, “Leisure activities, in sharp distinction from labor or work, consist of those things that men do because they are desirable for their own sake. They are self-rewarding, not externally compensated, and they are freely engaged in” (Mortimer J. Adler, Reforming Education, 100).
The inability to use free time for leisure is symptomatic of our inability to be human, and consequently to be happy. As Aristotle points out, we work that we may be at leisure, that is, that we may do those activities which truly become a human. As Adler says, “The good life depends on labor, but it consists of leisure … Leisure activities constitute not mere living but living well” (Ibid.). According to Blaise Pascal, that people cannot use their leisure time properly is what leads them to create a multitude of distractions and evils: “I have discovered that all the unhappiness of men arises from one single fact, that they cannot stay quietly in their own chamber. A man who has enough to live on, if he knew how to stay with pleasure at home, would not leave it to go to sea or to besiege a town.” (Pensées, 136) He continues,
That is why men are so fond of hustle and bustle; that is why prison is such a fearful punishment; that is why the pleasures of solitude are so incomprehensible. That, in fact, is the main joy of being king, because people are continually trying to divert him and provide him every kind of pleasure. A king is surrounded by people whose only thought is to divert him and stop him thinking about himself, because, king though he is, he becomes unhappy as soon as he thinks about himself. (Ibid.)
That quiet and solitude are “incomprehensible” for many people demonstrates their inability to use that part of them which is the highest, the mind. A person who cannot sit quietly with their own thoughts shows that he is at odds with himself, he cannot stand to be with himself. Certainly humans are not just their minds, but they are certainly nothing less. This incomprehensible solitude is essential for a flourishing human life, for the cultivation of the essentially human faculties can only be accomplished through leisure activities. Therefore, a recovery of leisure and leisure activities as something other than amusement is necessary for human happiness.
Anthony Esolen, author of the brilliant book, Ten Ways to Destroy the Imagination of Your Child, translator of the Modern Library Classics edition of the Divine Comedy, and professor of Renaissance English Literature and the Development of Western Civilization at Providence College, has a new blog: Word of the Day.
Check it out, it has all the promise of being a fantastic resource and enjoyable journey into history and language.
Note: This is the eighth post in the series: “Why Study History?”
In the previous four posts (see end of this post for links), I argued that History plays a central role in education. In spite of this, since the late nineteenth century, American education has seen a steady decline in the teaching of certain academic fields, primarily the arts and humanities (including history). No doubt the cause of this change goes well beyond what can be covered here, but a few general observations concerning this shift in curriculum may be observed.
First, the changes in emphasis of curriculum are due to an overall change in the view of the ends of education. As mentioned above, both humane and utilitarian views of education go back thousands of years, with the dominant view being the humane education which seeks to make students good. Recently, however, utilitarian views of education have become dominant, at least in the United States. For example, the United States Department of Education’s stated purpose is “to promote student achievement and preparation for global competitiveness by fostering educational excellence and ensuring equal access.” No doubt, the competition to which this statement refers is “jobs” or “careers.” The consistent message from politicians with regard to education is that students need to be prepared to enter the “workforce,” and that we must be more “competitive” in math and sciences so that Americans will not be displaced by foreign competition in the job market.
In order to achieve these goals, a shift in curricula is necessary. For example, in 2007 the United States passed the America COMPETES Act (P.L. 110-69) which specific purpose is “to invest in innovation through research and development, and to improve the competitiveness of the United States.” Again, “competitiveness” is the driving force. To do this, the act shifts funding for educational programs into S.T.E.M. disciplines. S.T.E.M. refers to any discipline which correlates to Science, Technology, Engineering, or Mathematics. Accordingly the act authorizes funding for the National Science Foundation, the National Institute of Standards and Technology, and the Department of Energy Office of Science. As educational programs receive increased funding in S.T.E.M. disciplines, they must necessarily de-emphasize non-S.T.E.M. fields like history and the humanities.
Second, these shifts, though not a direct result of, are certainly influenced by an overall Cartesian view of knowledge which emphasizes certainty above all else. The “pure” sciences, like mathematics, lead to absolute certainty in matters of truth. Without certainty there is no knowledge, only speculation, or so we must reduce all disciplines to mathematical postulates and explanations, and if not, they are viewed as suspect. Says Descartes, “In the subjects we propose to investigate, our inquiries should be directed, not to what others have thought, nor to what we ourselves conjecture, but to what we can clearly and perspicuously behold and with certainty deduce; for knowledge is not won in any other way.”( Rene Descartes, Rules for the Direction of the Mind, 225) That is, unlike Pascal, Descartes emphasized the throwing-off of tradition and previous generations as a way of knowing, leaving the philosopher alone with reason only to discover truth. Where then is a place for history, literature, or the arts in an educational program? Since these cannot lead to any kind of certain knowledge, they are at best seen as interesting trivialities. That is, a philosophical shift in the general view of truth and knowledge may also be driving these educational changes.
Third, while the current driving force of these changes may be an utilitarian view of education, the underlying assumptions of American Pragmatism must certainly be explored as an influence. Though many would trace these changes in American education back to John Dewey, Dewey himself was heavily influenced by the English philosopher Herbert Spencer. According to Spencer the purpose of education is to prepare children for “self-preservation, securing the necessaries of life, bringing up children well, [and] producing good citizens.” (Egan, Getting It Wrong, 116) The means to achieve this would be the sciences. Accordingly, a new curriculum would be necessary to meet this aim. The criteria for selecting fields of study then would be their utility in preparing the student for these goals. “So the prevailing curriculum based on Greek, Latin, and history was to be swept away.” (Ibid.) What use would a child have for declining Greek nouns, conjugating Latin verbs, or knowing when the Battle of Hastings occurred in getting a job or raising a family?
From this educational shift, history was replaced with general social studies, the arts with more practical arts of the home and everyday life, and literature with science and technology studies. We have today, incorporated Spencer’s view of education wholesale so that his views of education are now mainstream. The more traditional curriculum is left for those who can afford private schools, while middle and poorer-class students are relegated to a crass utilitarian education:
An implication of Spencer’s writing was that the classics should disappear from the experience of middle-class student and should have no role for the increasing numbers of children from the lower classes who were filling the expanding state schools…Today, of course, the educational establishment—almost entirely without any knowledge of what once was the backbone or staple of education and almost invariably ignorant of classical languages—takes it for granted that the classics should be treated as an occasional and exotic option for only a few students. (Ibid., 120-121)
As noted, the champion of this kind of education in the United States was John Dewey. Dewey emphasized education as a kind of vocational activity. In order to function best in society, Dewey focuses his curriculum on “thinking skills” while de-emphasizing “information.” That is, it is more important that the student think than what the student thinks about. After all, the educator cannot predict what vocation their students will pursue, and so cannot predict what kinds of information will be useful to them. So, once again there is a replacing of history and culture with pragmatic skills. Though Dewey himself found utility in the studying and teaching of history, those who came after him found it of little use.
What then of those uses of history covered previously? How might a student come to think without something to think about? How might a student come to understand the society in which they live? How might a student learn to plan for the future? How might a student be formed morally? All these questions are treated as relatively unimportant on an utilitarian view of education. Yet, as I will examine in my final posted, it is precisely the lack of these functions provided by history that prevents utilitarian education from meeting its goals.
Previous Posts in the Series:
Part I: Introduction
Part IIa: The Definition of “Education”
Part IIb: The Definition of “History”
Part IIIa: History Provides the Content of Basic Knowledge
Part IIIb: History Is the Key to Current Affairs and Disciplines
Part IIIc: History Teaches Universal Principles
Part IIId: History Helps in Moral Formation
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