I think it is bold to assume you can speak for what is relevant or important to a reader. Just because writing is contemporary to you does not mean it is impactful or relevant. The writing of the brontes have taught me many things in how to think of my experiences as a woman, dickens has enlivened political thought in me. And what about enjoyment, what about the challenges of putting your own perspective aside and being able to see the world, even if only for a moment, from an entirely new perspective? I’ve learned so much from books, especially the old ones.
Hi Henry. I've only recently discovered your newsletter and getting caught up. This post caught my attention because I have a family member who enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts program with a specific focus in Great Books. I think it's an increasingly rare and valuable opportunity to be able to focus on these works for the reasons that you've described.
AIs and Chat Bots will never have the lived experience of Marcus Aurelius!
Re "the idea that someone writing more than say four hundred years ago could have deep insights into modern issues strikes me as farcical" -- to me, people writing throughout history have insight into *human beings*, into individuals or groups, which can enlighten any individual and help him/her think about his/her own life in helpful ways. Regarding "issues" -- his phrase "deep insights into modern issues" seems disingenuous; maybe he could have said "deep insights into issues that existed then that we still face today" and he might not think the idea was so farcical. (I didn't read his whole blog post yet.)
Reading the Great Books also provides insights into why the world is what it is today, in the shaping of how we think, tell stories, determine morality, etc. Tyler Cowen remarks the great books as one area where men would have a leg up over AI in terms of original thinking.
It's an interesting species of horseshoe theory when someone like Hanania agrees with Kanye West. His point about a lot of contemporary trade nonfiction that could have been articles is well-taken (and this is really not the edgy insight he seems to want it to be). Furthermore, there's something almost tautological in Hanania's formulation, because *most* people don't read *most* books, and in fact obviously can't. So whatever selection or screening process he seems to advocate for, well, most serious readers have developed a version of that on their own, organically. (I think it's often folks who themselves are not very deeply read who assume that those advocating for "classic" works are proposing the canon as if it were a course of vitamin treatment. Sometimes that's true but calling out such people is low-hanging fruit.)
"So for theology to be a credible human endeavor, they need to pretend biology, economics, etc., are like theology, where an ancient thinker is just as likely to have a worthwhile idea as a modern scholar."
And he loses me here. The reason a Great Books course might want to assign older scientific treatises is explicitly *not* because they think students are going to master modern STEM praxis from them -- it's obviously much more in the service of developing history-of-science-type philosophical insight. And for that matter, I would say to Hanania that most contemporary, hardcore STEM is probably wasted on the majority of students who don't have the intellectual makeup to really apply it (this is why we have "non-major" science, lit, etc. courses). Encouraging an awareness of how scientific insights lead to certain social and political outcomes, however, is not.
I would finally quibble with his view of Aurelius. None of the specific, bullet-point type advice is really the point (again, this isn't an original insight). What the Stoics propose is a fairly unnatural and difficult to sustain attention to mortality (even morbidity) in the service of living what at least they would regard as a more ethical and authentic life. Contemporary self-help is likely to water down this very austere worldview in favor of "tips and tricks from the Stoics to get that promotion!" Hanania seems like a smart guy so I'm surprised he wouldn't consider trendy social and even market forces as exercising a distorting influence on contemporary writers' summaries of older ideas (because he notices that well enough when he's criticizing the CV-burnishing pressures of academia). Frankly he seems like the kind of person who's never delved into an old book and thought, "wow, this is very different from what I had been told to expect."
Nassim Nicholas Taleb makes the case in Antifragile for the fact that the longer a book has remained read and in print the greater the possibility that it has something valuable and timeless to say. Thus, he reads little in the way of books that emanate from recent years and views the reading of newspapers as something of a waste of time. Personally, although I don't go to the extremes that NNT advocates I do factor in current longevity of a book in determining whether to allocate valuable reading time to it and ensure that my range of reading favours books that have stood the test of time as opposed to those which are likely in future years to be judged merely as reflective of the current zeitgeist.....if they are even remembered at all.
I was more persuaded by your answer. The understanding that human life inevitably repeats itself helps us put our own problems into a context that helps us understand the causes of our problems as well as what solutions have worked and what solutions have failed (and why).
Hanania has it the wrong way around, which says something to me about his character - despite your self-effacing praise. Even if I accept that a selection of the most recent scholarship is the distillation of great ideas, I still would like to know the ingredients in the things I consume. Then again, I'm not entirely surprised a blogger would tell their readers that they are the only person their readers should trust.
I think it is bold to assume you can speak for what is relevant or important to a reader. Just because writing is contemporary to you does not mean it is impactful or relevant. The writing of the brontes have taught me many things in how to think of my experiences as a woman, dickens has enlivened political thought in me. And what about enjoyment, what about the challenges of putting your own perspective aside and being able to see the world, even if only for a moment, from an entirely new perspective? I’ve learned so much from books, especially the old ones.
By Hanania’s logic, why read at all? All modern fiction will soon be dated and out of touch, with nothing to say to future generations.
Hi Henry. I've only recently discovered your newsletter and getting caught up. This post caught my attention because I have a family member who enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts program with a specific focus in Great Books. I think it's an increasingly rare and valuable opportunity to be able to focus on these works for the reasons that you've described.
AIs and Chat Bots will never have the lived experience of Marcus Aurelius!
Re "the idea that someone writing more than say four hundred years ago could have deep insights into modern issues strikes me as farcical" -- to me, people writing throughout history have insight into *human beings*, into individuals or groups, which can enlighten any individual and help him/her think about his/her own life in helpful ways. Regarding "issues" -- his phrase "deep insights into modern issues" seems disingenuous; maybe he could have said "deep insights into issues that existed then that we still face today" and he might not think the idea was so farcical. (I didn't read his whole blog post yet.)
Reading the Great Books also provides insights into why the world is what it is today, in the shaping of how we think, tell stories, determine morality, etc. Tyler Cowen remarks the great books as one area where men would have a leg up over AI in terms of original thinking.
It's an interesting species of horseshoe theory when someone like Hanania agrees with Kanye West. His point about a lot of contemporary trade nonfiction that could have been articles is well-taken (and this is really not the edgy insight he seems to want it to be). Furthermore, there's something almost tautological in Hanania's formulation, because *most* people don't read *most* books, and in fact obviously can't. So whatever selection or screening process he seems to advocate for, well, most serious readers have developed a version of that on their own, organically. (I think it's often folks who themselves are not very deeply read who assume that those advocating for "classic" works are proposing the canon as if it were a course of vitamin treatment. Sometimes that's true but calling out such people is low-hanging fruit.)
"So for theology to be a credible human endeavor, they need to pretend biology, economics, etc., are like theology, where an ancient thinker is just as likely to have a worthwhile idea as a modern scholar."
And he loses me here. The reason a Great Books course might want to assign older scientific treatises is explicitly *not* because they think students are going to master modern STEM praxis from them -- it's obviously much more in the service of developing history-of-science-type philosophical insight. And for that matter, I would say to Hanania that most contemporary, hardcore STEM is probably wasted on the majority of students who don't have the intellectual makeup to really apply it (this is why we have "non-major" science, lit, etc. courses). Encouraging an awareness of how scientific insights lead to certain social and political outcomes, however, is not.
I would finally quibble with his view of Aurelius. None of the specific, bullet-point type advice is really the point (again, this isn't an original insight). What the Stoics propose is a fairly unnatural and difficult to sustain attention to mortality (even morbidity) in the service of living what at least they would regard as a more ethical and authentic life. Contemporary self-help is likely to water down this very austere worldview in favor of "tips and tricks from the Stoics to get that promotion!" Hanania seems like a smart guy so I'm surprised he wouldn't consider trendy social and even market forces as exercising a distorting influence on contemporary writers' summaries of older ideas (because he notices that well enough when he's criticizing the CV-burnishing pressures of academia). Frankly he seems like the kind of person who's never delved into an old book and thought, "wow, this is very different from what I had been told to expect."
Nassim Nicholas Taleb makes the case in Antifragile for the fact that the longer a book has remained read and in print the greater the possibility that it has something valuable and timeless to say. Thus, he reads little in the way of books that emanate from recent years and views the reading of newspapers as something of a waste of time. Personally, although I don't go to the extremes that NNT advocates I do factor in current longevity of a book in determining whether to allocate valuable reading time to it and ensure that my range of reading favours books that have stood the test of time as opposed to those which are likely in future years to be judged merely as reflective of the current zeitgeist.....if they are even remembered at all.
Also, his choice of Aristotle was highly selective and disingenuous. As far as I am aware, scientists are still debating the existence of the plenum.
I was more persuaded by your answer. The understanding that human life inevitably repeats itself helps us put our own problems into a context that helps us understand the causes of our problems as well as what solutions have worked and what solutions have failed (and why).
Hanania has it the wrong way around, which says something to me about his character - despite your self-effacing praise. Even if I accept that a selection of the most recent scholarship is the distillation of great ideas, I still would like to know the ingredients in the things I consume. Then again, I'm not entirely surprised a blogger would tell their readers that they are the only person their readers should trust.