The Wisdom of Secular Education

School of Athens

Right-wing commentator Dennis Prager said at a recent “Moms for Liberty” conference: “There is no such thing as a secular institution with wisdom… That is why the stupidest institutions are the most secular: the universities.”

He’s wrong. The wisdom of secular universities is found in their reluctance to teach wisdom. That may sound like a paradox. But it is an approach to teaching that is as old as Socrates.

I am a professor of philosophy—a “lover of wisdom.” But I don’t teach wisdom. I think that what I teach may help students develop wisdom. But I would never presume to teach wisdom. I can teach about the world’s wisdom traditions. But I do not have the right to teach wisdom in my role as a secular professor.

Prager’s critique of secular education

Prager is a frequent critic of secularism, and of public education. He is not happy with what secular schools teach about racism, gender, and religion. Prager wrote, in a column in July 2022: “When America was more religious, wisdom was taught to young people. This is another reason to fear a thoroughly secularized America—we are producing a nation of fools. The proof lies in our universities. The most secularized institution in America is the most foolish institution in America.”

Really? American universities lead the world in research and creativity. People come here to study from across the globe. American universities are not stupid or foolish.

But Prager is right that secular universities do not teach wisdom, in his sense. He thinks that wisdom implies the specific content of the Judeo-Christian tradition.

But it is not the job of a secular university to instill the values of a specific religious tradition. This does not make universities foolish or stupid. Rather, secular universities refrain from teaching wisdom because in a diverse society grounded on liberty, we leave wisdom to the private sphere. If you want wisdom, go to a church or temple. But if you want knowledge, go to a secular school.

Secular universities should be neutral, inclusive, and pluralistic. They ought to disseminate knowledge, without staking a claim about wisdom. They ought to train students in the art of sifting and winnowing. They should teach skills in scientific method, critical thinking, and hermeneutics. But knowledge and critical thinking skills do not produce wisdom.

Wisdom vs. knowledge

Wisdom is about meaning, value, and purpose. It is a matter of the soul, the conscience, and our fundamental beliefs. Universities can and should include courses that teach about the varieties of opinion about wisdom and the meaning of life. But no secular university professor should presume to grade and evaluate students based upon the condition of their soul. That would be obnoxious, and it would violate the spirit of open inquiry that is essential to the secular pursuit of knowledge.

The pursuit of wisdom is different from the pursuit of knowledge. In religious traditions, teachers of wisdom provide definitive answers about meaning, value, and purpose. The teachers of religious wisdom aim to transform the souls of their disciples. They inspire, admonish, and guide their pupils toward a vision of the good life.

This is not what university professors should be doing. University professors teach knowledge, and methods for discovering it. But they should avoid any attempt to peer into the soul of a student. They may inspire students to seek knowledge. But they should not pick sides in cultural, religious, or spiritual struggles.

The pursuit of knowledge is, of course, part of wisdom. Wisdom requires knowledge. Ignorant and stupid people are not wise. But wisdom is not simply the accumulation of knowledge. And there are knowledgeable people who lack wisdom. Wisdom is a virtue or character trait. It is more a way of being than a pile of facts.

Wisdom involves judgement, discernment, and a sense of justice. Wisdom is about what we do with our knowledge, how we apply it to solve problems, and how we construct a life of meaning and value.

The Socratic model

An important model for the contemporary secular approach is Socrates. Socrates never claimed to be wise. He was a questioner, and a gadfly. He did not pontificate about the meaning of life, apart from suggesting that to be fully human is to think. This what he meant when he said, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” Socratic wisdom is a lifelong commitment to the ongoing labor of thinking. But this is an open-ended kind of wisdom that avoids picking sides in cultural or religious squabbles.

And now, finally, let’s return to Prager’s contention that when America was more religious, wisdom was taught to young people. He’s probably right. In a homogeneous world young people are often trained to conform and identify with a specific answer to life’s questions. Some may call that training wisdom. But it is narrow and limiting.

Such a narrow training in wisdom is not appropriate for a world that values liberty, free inquiry, and diversity. For that world—our world—we need a secular, Socratic approach. The secular approach is oriented around the Socratic “love of wisdom,” and a process of arguing and inquiring that is open-ended. Secular universities do not teach wisdom. Rather, they teach us how to decide for ourselves what is wise.

Faith, Freedom, and the First Amendment: Trump’s Proposed Ban on Socialists is Un-American

First Amendment

Fresno Bee, July 2, 2023

This past week, Donald Trump announced that if elected he will prevent “foreign Christian-hating communists, socialists and Marxists” from coming to the U.S. He also suggested he would do something about the un-Christian socialists who already live here. He asked, “What are we going to do with the ones that are already here, that grew up here? I think we have to pass a new law for them.”

The audience at the Faith and Freedom Coalition Conference cheered Trump’s speech. Which makes you wonder about the relationship between faith and freedom in America. Will Americans round up and expel communists, atheists, and others?

Or maybe we will divide the union by ideology. Florida Sen. Rick Scott posted a video warning socialists and communists to avoid “the free state of Florida.” He said, “If you’re thinking about coming to Florida and you’re a socialist or a communist, think twice. We like freedom, liberty, capitalism, things like that.”

This almost seems like a parody. And for those who study the history of ideas, it is absurd. Socialism is not anti-Christian or un-American.

There are important Christian socialists in the American tradition, including Francis Bellamy, a Baptist preacher who authored the Pledge of Allegiance. Bellamy’s original pledge did not, by the way, include the phrase “under God.” That phrase was added in the 1950s during another anti-communist era.

Christian socialists claim that Jesus was critical of the accumulation of wealth and the exploitation of the poor. They cite passages in the Bible’s book of Acts, where early Christians sold their private property, lived communally, and distributed “to each as had any need.”

Of course, Christians disagree among themselves about this. Some Christians embrace socialism. Others preach the gospel of wealth. Some advocate for Christian nationalism. Others claim Christ was an anarchist.

Centuries ago, such disagreements would result in violence, as reformers were burned at the stake. We don’t do that anymore. Our secular system guarantees freedom of religion and freedom of thought.

An argument for secular tolerance can be traced to British philosopher John Locke. Locke thought that compulsion in religion was useless. Faith is internal and not subject to external authority. He said every man “has the supreme and absolute authority of judging for himself.”

Locke’s theory was limited in application. He did not extend toleration to atheists or Roman Catholics. A century after Locke, Americans like James Madison improved the idea and put it into the First Amendment to the Constitution, which prevents the political establishment of religion and guarantees the free exercise of faith.

This idea evolved to include toleration for Catholics, and non-Christians. Thomas Jefferson said that the state has no right over “conscience.” He explained, “It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are 20 gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.”

Freedom of religion is linked to freedom of thought. The First Amendment also protects freedom of speech, and freedom of the press. Which takes us back to the question of banning socialists.

Would Trump’s proposed ban on socialists also ban their ideas? How would you prevent socialist ideas from being disseminated? Maybe we’d also need book bans as they do in “the free state of Florida.” Perhaps the Bible would be among those books.

Now Trump and Scott may suggest that socialists are somehow anti-American. But there is nothing more American than the First Amendment. Our Constitution allows us to argue, and think. Laws that target ideologies are un-American.

The assumption of our secular system is that the “free marketplace of ideas” is fundamental. That capitalist metaphor for freedom of thought means that if you disagree with an idea, you make an argument and let people decide for themselves. In this economy of thought, it is we, the people who sift and winnow ideas.

Sometimes bad arguments prevail in the short-term. But democracy rests upon the faith that good arguments ultimately defeat bad ones. The democratic faith believes that citizens are smart enough to discern right from wrong. It rests on the hope that citizens are wise enough to understand the difference between democratic freedom and dangerous demagoguery.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article276873328.html#storylink=cpy

The Illusion of Nostalgia

Fresno Bee, June 25, 2023

A new study called “The Illusion of Moral Decline” suggests that we are morally better than our ancestors, even though we think we are worse. The study by psychologists Adam Mastroianni and Dan Gilbert maintains, “On average, modern humans treat each other far better than their forebears ever did.” Their focus is on kindness, honesty and similar personal virtues.

We might add that political and social life is also better. Slavery was abolished. Women were liberated. And science, medicine, and technology have improved.

Despite this, a recent survey from the Pew Center concludes that most Americans think the past was better, with 58% of us saying that life is worse today than 50 years ago. In response, columnist Jonah Goldberg argued that nostalgia is a “terrible guide” for social and political judgment. He reminds us that crime is down, people are generally richer, infant mortality rates are better, and workplace safety has improved.

So why are we so fond of what we see in the rear-view mirror? If things are better, why do we think they are worse? Mastroianni and Gilbert explain that psychological biases cloud our judgment. We have limited information and selective memories.

I suspect religion, politics, and marketing also play a part. Religions emphasize the holiness of their founders. Americans also celebrate the wisdom of the founding fathers. And political parties promise to return us to past greatness. Nostalgia is often used to sell us a product.

Poets and artists also tend to paint yesteryear in sepia tones that reek of longing. Herman Melville wrote, “How lovely was the light of heaven, what angels leaned from out the sky, in years when youth was more than wine, and man and nature felt divine.”

Nostalgia and a sense of decline are common throughout history. The Taoists of ancient China spoke of a prior generation of “true men,” who lived in harmony with heaven. And Plato and the ancient Greeks spoke of a Golden Age, and the lost utopia of Atlantis.

Nostalgia makes sense when the present is chaotic. The Athenians of Plato’s era lived in a time of war, plague, and political turmoil. They imagined the Golden Age as an ideal alternative to a tumultuous present.

Perhaps that explains our present moment. We’re suffering through the aftereffects of the pandemic and the polarization of the Trump years. There is war in Europe. The Earth’s climate is changing. There have been rapid shifts in cultural identity. It is not surprising that folks think it would be nice to go back to a simpler, more stable time.

But no such simpler time has ever existed. Nor will the future be stable. The world is built of crooked timber. It has never been perfect. Nor can we expect it to be.

A Woody Allen film called “Midnight in Paris” is worth watching in this regard. In the film, a modern American is transported back to the 1920s, where he hangs out with the heroes of the Jazz Age. There he meets a woman who fantasizes about the “Belle Epoque” of the 19th century. They jump back in time and discover that in the 19th century, artists were nostalgic for the Renaissance.

We might note that the Renaissance was based on admiration for the ancient Greeks and Romans. Each generation is afflicted by nostalgia.

The truth is that we cannot go back. We cannot recreate what is lost to time. We should learn from history. But we should also learn to let it go. What’s past is past. Life unfolds in the present.

And if you think things are worse today, despite the evidence, that really means there is work to do. Rather than lamenting the lost angels of youth, and the heroes of the Golden Age, we should embrace the challenge of improving ourselves and creating a better future.

Nostalgia is misplaced idealism. In seeing the imperfections of the present, we pine for the past. But the past was never perfect. And if the present is better, it can still be further improved. Once we stop gazing in the mirror, we should get to work to build a future that is a bit less crooked, and a bit closer to the ideal.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article276697551.html#storylink=cpy

Father’s Day and Dad Jokes:

Fresno Bee, June 18, 2023

Let’s love our fathers, even as we hug their dad bods and laugh at their dumb jokes

When I first heard the phrase “dad joke” I was confused. My father is funny. But he rarely tells jokes. I soon learned that a dad joke is actually just a bad joke. And it doesn’t have to be told by a dad. T

he phrase “dad joke” emerged about a decade ago. Merriam-Webster added it to the dictionary in 2019. They define it as an “endearingly corny or unfunny” joke. A dad joke is a corny quip rather than a long story with a punch line.

Here’s an example. “Why do cows wear bells?… Because their horns don’t work.” These cheesy gags typically involve puns and word play. Like: “It takes guts to be an organ donor.” The response is often a polite forced laugh or even a groan.

Some dads may believe these quips are hilarious. But other dads tell them with a sense of irony. For the ironic dad, a cornball joke is like an ugly Christmas sweater: the lamer, the better.

Growing up, I associated bad jokes with my Uncle Bernie, who was a walking encyclopedia of one-liners. We used to call them Bernie jokes. Those jokes were not endearing. Frankly, they were annoying. Bernie was not ironic or subtle. And his corny jokes often became irritating. It’s annoying to have to fake a laugh every time a jokester corners you at a family reunion.

Of course, we loved Bernie despite his wisecracks. Love and humor are subjective. If a stranger on a plane shares a dad joke (“Wearing a watch on a plane really makes time fly”), you may wish you had driven. But if a beloved elder shares the same stale joke with an ironic wink, you may be charmed.

It’s not the joke that matters as much as the person telling it and our relationship with the joker. Dad jokes are endearing because we love our fathers despite their dorkiness.

But isn’t there something sad about what this says about our image of fatherhood? These days, the stereotypical dad is a nerd with a flabby “dad bod” and a lame sense of humor. That image is a bit insulting. It’s not inevitable that fathers are soft around the middle and full of dumb jokes. Of course, we love our fathers despite their goofiness and pot bellies. But can’t we imagine a better ideal?

Which brings me back to my own father and his subtle sense of humor. He is a sincere and caring man. But he also has a playful side. Unlike Uncle Bernie, he doesn’t force himself on you or interrupt the conversation with dumb one-liners. Instead, he’s a careful and responsive listener. His light-hearted comments are in tune with the social flow. Instead of trying to take over by telling a joke, he plays along.

A good sense of humor depends upon empathy and responsiveness. The wittiest people have a knack for making appropriate comments. They say the right thing at the right time, and in the right way. They are good at “reading the room.” They do not insist on being the center of attention, like a clown or buffoon. Nor are they boorish and boring, unable to enjoy the playful fun of human interaction.

With this in mind, we might imagine how important a good sense of humor is in the art of fathering. The best fathers listen with empathy. They are wise. But they don’t use their wisdom to dominate their children. The best fathers are playful without being clownish, and sincere without being boring.

They are witty without insisting, and kind without condescending. They love their children and want them to thrive. They are strong and reliable. But they can also be soft, when they need to be. And in a world that is often serious and overwhelming, they have a knack for lightening things up.

As we celebrate Father’s Day it helps to clarify the ideal. No actual father lives up to the paradigm. No real father embodies the ideal of good humor, kindness, strength, and wisdom. But we can try. And when our fathers fail to be perfect we can forgive them for their faults, even as we hug their dad bods and laugh at their dumb jokes.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article276466451.html#storylink=cpy

Artificial Intelligence and Human Morality

Fresno Bee, June 4, 2023

Is artificial intelligence going to kill us? It all depends on who is using it and why

Experts warn that artificial intelligence may kill us. A declaration signed by a number of luminaries states: “Mitigating the risk of extinction from AI should be a global priority alongside other societal-scale risks such as pandemics and nuclear war.”

I’m sympathetic to the worry. But when you think about the other problems mentioned here — nuclear war and pandemics — it might be that we need AI to save us from our own incompetence. Could AI have responded better to Covid than we humans did?

It all depends on what we do with AI, and who is using it. A crazed dictator with AI is scary. But a scientist assisted by AI, not so much.

Geoffrey Hinton is one of the signatories of the new AI warning, and an expert in the field. In a recent interview, Hinton warns that AI may grow smarter than its human creators within five to 20 years.

One of the things that freaked him out recently was when he asked an AI to explain a joke. Hinton did not expect AI to understand humor. But it did.

That got me curious, so I asked ChatGPT (an online AI), “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Immediately, it said, “To get to the other side.” And then, without prompting, it explained the joke as a play on words. It said, “It’s a simple and often unexpected answer that plays on the double meaning of ‘the other side.’” It explained the joke as a “philosophical statement on the nature of life and death.”

This surprised me. The AI recognized that I was asking a joke. I had actually forgotten that the joke was about chicken suicide. But the AI went straight to the heart of the matter.

But is this an existential risk? I depends on how we use AI. If we use AI to explain jokes, we won’t risk much. Philosophy, and comedy, assisted by AI, might be fun and informative. But if we weave AI into the systems that govern our lives, we might end up in a strange dystopia.

One obvious concern is the stock market. AI can analyze data and make trades in nanoseconds. This may not lead to extinction. But it may cause bubbles and panics, and enrich those fortunate enough to have an AI broker. Or, maybe AI could be used beneficially to even things out, preventing panics and bubbles. Again, it depends on what we do with it, and what safeguards we program into the system.

A darker possibility is if AI took control of military systems, including nuclear weapons. What if AI were put in charge in the hope of automating and streamlining the decision procedures involved in nuclear war? Maybe nuclear-armed AI will lead to Armageddon. Or, again, maybe AI will better control our most deadly weapons.

It’s worth asking whether human beings are really trustworthy custodians of weapons, or wealth. Some crazed Dr. Strangelove could launch a nuclear war. And rapacious financiers like Bernie Madoff ruin people’s lives. Perhaps AI is more trustworthy than humans in this regard. AI won’t get angry, greedy, envious, or hateful.

And here is where things get really weird and dystopian. What if a smart AI figures out that humans — with all of our ignorance, spite, and greed — should not be trusted with nukes or with billion-dollar deals? In science fiction, the AI might seize control — for our own good!

But AI will only take control, if we put it in charge. Human beings are always looking for shortcuts and quick fixes to complex problems (as I discussed in my column last week). We invent tools to make things easier. But ultimately, we are responsible for the tools we create, including nuclear weapons, the stock market and AI.

We are also responsible for the greed, spite, and ignorance that afflict the world. These are human problems. Tools can magnify these ugly traits, or they can help us control our worst impulses. In the end, the choice of crossing the road to get to the other side belongs to us. This choice is ultimately about ethics and the human spirit. If AI leads to our extinction, the fault will not be in the tool but within the human soul.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article275991471.html#storylink=cpy