In Defense of the Great Conversation
In our racialized and increasingly polarized society, one of the fields of combat is the value and place of classical education in education. Protestors have been known to chant, “Hey, ho, Western Civ has got to go.” The goal for some has been to eliminate ancient sources that have formed the foundation of the Western intellectual tradition from study, especially in publicly funded settings.
The stated reasons for wanting to eliminate some classical works a several, though not significantly varied among its critics. While often offered by critics without considering rebuttal, there are good reasons not to abandon learning about the Western tradition through Great Books or classical education.
Considering Critiques of Classical Education
Classical education is said to be too “White.” Critics claim it is the study of a bunch of dead white men. This, some claim, is racist and responsible for the rise and sustenance of white supremacy in Western Civilization. It should be noted that there have been white supremacists who have used classical sources to support their views. However, this complaint falls short for a few key reasons.
First, it assumes that the novel, post-Enlightenment categories of race based on skin color were live and active in ancient sources. This is demonstrably untrue. Outsiders have always been viewed with skepticism—that’s how cultures survive. However, the race-centric view of the world that now dominates much of our discourse was invented as a justification for colonialism. The only explanation in the minds of the conquerors for the technological superiority of the West was that someone the conquered must be lesser humans. Since one of the most visible differences between the groups was skin color, the end result was the dehumanization of black and brown people, which provided ethical cover for their abuse and oppression. Pretty damning, but that has little to do with Plato.
Second, racial critics of classical education contend that the list of the classics is just a bunch of dead white men. Athanasius and Augustine were, of course, African. Augustine’s mother was Berber. The Old Testament was written by people who were likely well-endowed with melatonin. So, to begin with, it isn’t clear that the accusation of “whiteness” as the overwhelming characteristic of the authors is accurate. Moreover, as we’ve already established, applying modern categories of criticism to ancient texts seems unfair to the authors. It isn’t Shakespeare’s fault that he was born in England, but the man was a genius who thought well about human nature, so we might consider benefiting from his work.
A second major criticism of classical education is that it is intended to reinforce elitism and bourgeois attitudes of the American upper class and upper middle class. This is, of course, a variant on the “too white” criticism, but it brings in “too rich” as another point of contention.
The fact of the matter is that because of James Dewey’s assembly line, pragmatic approach to American education, it is mostly those students who can afford (or are given a scholarship opportunity) to study in a private setting that have access to classical education. However, the classical movement in the US, in particular, has been one that focused on the lower classes. Louis L’Amour’s memoir, Education of a Wandering Man, is about someone without much formal education who became a world-renown author based on his independent study of classical texts. It’s a rags to riches story that was driven by the storyline of humanity found through old books. W.E.B. DuBois was a significant proponent of classical education as means of social uplift. The classical movement, which included the publication of the Harvard Classics series and other similar anthologies was driven to normalize the reading of classical texts in translation in an effort to make classic texts accessible to the working class. In other words, exactly the opposite of what many critics claim about the classical movement is true.
Many of the critiques of Great Conversations or a classical approach to education fall short based on logical grounds, but they are also undermined by the perspectives of some of those people who activists claim to be protecting from these ancient texts.
A Case Study Responding to Critics
Roosevelt Montás wrote a memoir, Rescuing Socrates: How the Great Books Changed My Life and Why They Matter for a New Generation, that justifies the continued existence and even promotion of a classical approach to education.
Montás is now a senior lecturer at Columbia University. He has taught at Columbia College for years in their core curriculum, which emphasizes “great books” as a central aspect of the curriculum. He spent a decade as the coordinator of the program. He himself went through the program as an undergraduate and this book is about how the study of classical texts has benefited him.
As the surname indicates, Montás is not a W.A.S.P. In fact, he is an immigrant from the Dominican Republic who deconverted from Pentecostal Christianity. Based on his telling of his own story, he was anything but an upper-middle class student who encountered great books in the comfort of a parochial school.
Montás provides some of the background of his life in the introduction. Then, in four chapters he walks through the way that various classic works and authors changed his life. Augustine’s Confessions helped him see himself as Augustine worked through his conversion. Though Montás, who was beginning to deconstruct his faith, rejected some of Augustine’s ideas initially, the process of struggling through challenging currents of thought changed the was Montás saw the world. Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle helped Montás think through what a meaningful life is. He notes, “For Socrates, a life worth living can only be sustained by values worth dying for.” There are anthropological and metaphysical assumptions within that thought that deserve to have their depths plumbed.
The third chapter shifts to Montás experience with Freudian psychoanalysis. This chapter is the weakest, as Montás uses it to explain how he justified unraveling his marriage. All of the chapters are autobiographical, but this chapter has very little of Freud and a great deal of personal commentary. His broader point, however, is well taken. Though many of Freud’s methods have been discarded, he is worthy of study because his thinking has permeated our culture. The final chapter explores Ghandi, whose autobiography was recently included in the Columbia College core curriculum. Montás helpfully introduces readers to a book, which seems well worth including in a curriculum, but also makes the point that the “Classical Canon” is, by nature, not a closed one. Thus, the arguments against the study of Classics could better be turned to arguments for including other good works. If the North African scholar Augustine is too “white,” then include some Nelson Mandela or Ghandi in the book list. The canon of classical literature is not closed; it never has been.
Continuing Growth through Classics Study
The point Montás makes well is that there is value for everyone in exploring significant works by great minds. There is value in a core curriculum that exposes students to thinkers who aren’t like them and have different ideas about the world. Classical study does not lionize the authors whose books are included, but it does make students think more deeply about the currents of civilization. This is why Montás believes in the study of great books.
Rescuing Socrates would be a helpful volume for parents in a classical co-op to study together. It would be a good book for parents mulling classical education to read through. This is the sort of volume that would fit well as an auxiliary text in the capstone course of a classical curriculum as a way to prepare graduates to justify their education against its critics. Montás is a clear and careful writer. This is an enjoyable book that is well worth the time spent reading.
NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.
The way we talk about humans also has moral implications, which are more significant than how we treat our pets. In his 2011 book, Less than Human: Why We Demean, Enslave, and Exterminate Others, David Livingstone Smith explores how language changes culture and leads to the justification of extreme violence against others, especially when they become perceived as less than human.