On the Definition of Learning

            Ever since I was a child, I have loved to learn. Not simply learning in school, but learning in general has always made me feel like I had accomplished something and that I could do a bit more thanks to the new knowledge that I had acquired. Mind you, there were many times that I would outright refuse to learn something new in the moment because I had such a problem with change when I was younger. Usually, this refusal had to do with math (my worst subject) or learning new words—I would say words wrong, use the wrong words, or make up words, and when someone would tell me that I wasn’t using the correct word, I would deny them.

            Unfortunately, I still refuse to learn new things from time to time without extensive research. I almost always come to accept the things that I am told before long, but in the moment, I don’t want to change my mind. This is something that I consider to be a flaw of mine. It makes no sense for me to assume that I know exactly what I’m talking about all the time when my parents and teachers clearly know more about what’s going on in the world than I do. Learning is an incredibly important (and satisfying) part of life, and any opportunity to gain knowledge from others should be cherished, especially for a person like me who is constantly wanting to know more about the world and how it works. Artes Liberales—The Liberal Arts by James Schall appealed to me in many ways, therefore, seeing as it was all about the importance of learning and how to best acquire knowledge about the world and what’s in it.

            Several times throughout the third chapter of Artes Liberales, Schall emphasizes the importance of philosophy and conversation in learning. I find this incredibly interesting as learning and deciding through abstract thinking is one of my favorite methods of acquiring knowledge. Mind you, I can’t keep at it for long. It’s surprisingly difficult to think so thoroughly about something for extended periods of time. Schall’s main argument in this section of his book is that knowledge is not properly acquired through memorization and concentration on facts, but through conversation, thought, and an active interest in the material. This, possibly, is why he finds the great books so important and educational.

Liberal education is not a “specialty.”  It is not what is called a “major.” Rather, it is rooted in the kind of intellectual eros that we find in Plato, in the “wonder” that according to Aristotle stimulates all thought, in the drive to know what reoriented the life of the young Augustine when he read Cicero. This eros lies behind all we do, since all things are worth knowing. Jacques Maritain put the issue bluntly: “great poets and thinkers are the foster-fathers of intelligence. Cut off from them, we are simply barbarians.” That we be not barbarians, that we be not cut off from the great poets and thinkers, is what it means to be “free,” to know the things that are. (P. 39)

Wanting to learn more is one of the most essential parts of a true education. A person can pass a high school Algebra class with a “C” just by memorizing the material, doing the work, and taking the tests. He doesn’t learn anything, however, unless he applies himself and works through the difficult sections for the sake of learning and for the sake of being able to apply what he has learned.

In an earlier passage from the chapter, Schall states, “Such a ‘liberal’ discipline is undertaken ‘for its own sake,’ that is, the purpose of the knowledge gained is not to ‘do’ anything with it. Just to ‘know’ something is itself a pleasure, even if often we must learn to enjoy it” (P. 27). This quote describes so well my relationship to learning. I love to learn new information, and it’s incredibly satisfying to have something in my head that I can think on and apply. As Schall says, however, sometimes we gain new knowledge and to not immediately appreciate it or enjoy it. We often must “learn” to do so. This reminds me of my own predisposition to deny new knowledge if it conflicts with my old knowledge. Many times I must learn to accept and enjoy the new knowledge, and I must take the time to find out how it fits in with or otherwise replaces pieces of my old knowledge.

            The only point at which I disagree with this quote of Schall’s is the point at which he says, “the purpose of the knowledge gained is not the ‘do’ anything with it.” While I agree that much of the most important knowledge that I have gained was learned “for its own sake,” I believe that I would have done the knowledge in incredible injustice if I did not apply it or at least spread it.

            It seems that the most important message in Schall’s writing is given an explanation at the end of the chapter. Throughout the passage, Schall points out that in order to truly study the liberal arts, one must look not only to the works of the Greeks and Romans but also to the works of the Christians. Near the very end of the passage, however, he makes his point very clear:

John Henry Newman, whose book The Idea of a University stands at the heart of any modern discussion of the liberal arts, made this point about the difference between liberal education and salvation: no matter how valuable natural virtues are, they do not themselves guarantee supernatural excellence. The gentleman, while perhaps being exquisitely refined, can still lose his soul. This is just another way of saying that man has a destiny higher than perfection in this world. (P. 40)

Learning about the world and about the works that describe it is far from the most important pursuance in life. What we truly must pursue is Christ, above everything else, and whatever else we do should be in service of that pursuance. Whatever we do, whatever we learn, whatever we apply ourselves to, should be done for the sake of the Lord and for the sake of worshiping and spreading the Good News about him.