Book Reviews, Education, Liberal Arts, Philosophy

Review: Mark Edmundson’s Self and Soul: A Defense of Ideals

by Dave Seng

Mark Edmundson. Self and Soul: A Defense of Ideals. Harvard University Press 2015. 283 pp. (Hardcover ISBN: 9780674088207).

Mark Edmundson has taken philosophic approaches in his writings on education, literature, and culture and in Self and Soul: A Defense of Ideals, Edmundson looks rationally and critically at the state of contemporary culture, and evaluates it in the context of ideas that have had a profound impact on the Western intellectual tradition. As Aristotle reminds us, philosophy begins with wonder. When one attempts to understand contemporary culture, one cannot help but wonder at what influenced the ideas, attitudes, and characteristics of our own age. Through this sense of wonder, Edmundson examines three essential values that he believes had an important impact on the development of modern liberal societies – courage, contemplation, and compassion and relates these central ideas to the modern understanding of “Self” and “Soul.” In Self and Soul, Edmundson blends literary criticism with intellectual history and philosophical reflection.

The central concern for Edmundson is that the West has become progressively more practical, materially oriented, and skeptical (1). Absent of real virtues such as courage, contemplation, and compassion, contemporary culture demonstrates a state of affairs where, “unfettered capitalism runs amok; Nature is ravaged; the rich gorge; prisons are full to bursting; the poor cry out in their misery and no one seems to hear. Lust of Self rules the day” (1). Using the categories of “Self” and “Soul” Edmundson presents a thoughtful dialogue between two different metaphysical world views.

The book’s central thesis is both simple and profound – “without ideals, life lacks significant meaning” (102). Edmundson admits that he could be wrong. Those who have embraced genuine ideals, or values, have often been persecuted, killed, or marginalized. Perhaps Freud, Nietzsche, and Derrida are right – values might actually be tools the powerful use to oppress others. And yet, Edmundson wonders, what if Freud and Nietzsche, geniuses though they were, were actually wrong about human nature and the role of ideals in society? What if Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle were right about the place of ideals and intellectual virtue in one’s life? Self and Soul provides an intellectual history that seeks to provide a dialogue and exchange of ideas between these positions. Edmundson also has another reason for exploring these questions. Many young people are not even given the option to explore them. For that matter, many adults have given up on these questions altogether. “Every man and woman should have the chance to ponder the question of the ideal” (2). Edmundson argues that everyone today should be able to discover if these values are true or not and determine whether they want to implement them in their lives. The intellectual process of inquiry, free exchange of ideas, and discussion should be available to all. Yet, the concept of enduring, timeless, and essential values seems to be fading from our cultural heritage. The concern is, if we say there are no transcendent values, we cut ourselves off from the educational process of discovery and have no way of deciding whether or not we want to integrate ideals and values into our lives. Deciding whether or not ideals exist and how to implement them in life and society should at least be a living option. Edmundson is not simply concerned about describing a world or society in which values or ideals do not exist, he is well aware that false and counterfeit ideals do exist, and he believes that in various ways Freud and Nietzsche are the great intellectual proponents of anti-idealist ideals.

For Edmundson, the Self is a cultural condition of radical individualism, presentism, and greed. Society is increasingly driven and obsessed with consumer capitalism, mediated through technology and entertainment with no other significant purpose or end. “We live for our personal desires; we want food and sex, money and power and prestige” (14). For many, the mindless pursuit of appetite serves no greater purpose than providing inane distractions for their brief lives. The Soul, on the other hand, as Edmundson conceives it, is a unity of being that fully embodies the ideals of courage, compassion, and contemplation. The Soul is “unified, joy bringing, and fully present to experience” (1). Edmundson’s conception of the soul is similar to Aristotle’s “great souled man,” a soul centered on magnanimity and intellectual and moral virtue. The idealist hopes for joy and presence and unity, not only for himself but for others. Edmundson argues that a generous impulse lies behind the aspiration to the ideal and can be seen in the lives of Socrates, Jesus, the Buddha, and even Hector and Achilles (97). In contrast, however, “Lives without courage, contemplation, compassion, and imagination are lives sapped of significant meaning. In such lives, the Self cannot transcend itself. But the Self seems to hunger for such transcendence” (50).

The central values Edmundson seeks to explicate are courage, contemplation, and compassion. He uses Homer’s Iliad to develop the ideal of courage, although contemplation and compassion can also be found in the epic poem. Plato is examined for the role of contemplation and the quest for eternal Truth and Jesus, the Buddha, and the Hindu sacred texts are used to describe the life of compassion. Homer’s heroes (he focuses on Achilles and Hector) illustrate the unity of purpose between mind and heart as they experience a unity of being that centers them in this world. Edmundson explains, “The warrior senses himself to be an integral part of all he sees around him … The warrior is at home in the world, though there is little that is kindly, generous or sweet about the world in which he dwells” (27). Given a just and honorable cause, the true warrior takes appropriate action. He understands that one’s words and ideas must correspond to one’s actions. The Homeric hero experiences a metaphysical realism that centers him in this world. In contrast, contemporary man is not at home; he is restless and seeks the Self above everything else.

The idea of contemplation is found in Plato. Plato seeks a Truth that will be true for all time. He is not looking for truth that applies exclusively to Greeks, or to men and women who live in city-states, or to those who exist at the same point in time that he does. Plato seeks Truth that will apply to all men and women at all times. As Edmundson explains, “If Plato’s account cannot illuminate the human condition in America in 2020 as well as it did the human condition in Greece when he was teaching and writing, Plato fails” (5). If the true thinker, following Plato, succeeds he will understand the permanence of human nature and the Good that transcends time and space. He “can tell you not only what men and women are like now, and what the world is, but how those things will be for all time” (134). The thinker will understand human nature and understand what kinds of governments will succeed or fail and what kind of education is best. Edmundson then turns to the great ideal of compassion and focuses on the life of Jesus although similar teachings can be found in the Buddha or the wisdom of the Upanishads. “With compassion, every man is my neighbor. Every woman is my neighbor. … No longer is one a thrashing Self, fighting the war of each against all. Now one is part of everything and everyone: one merges with the spirit of all that lives” (8).

Is Edmundson right about our current social and intellectual climate? He is certainly not the first to point out the differences between contemporary culture and the classical worldview. Whether or not one holds to the declension model of Western civilization or one sees both continuities and discontinuities in previous or current societies, it can certainly be said that there is much in today’s culture that magnifies the Self above any and all ideals. Whether it be affective capitalism, ecotourism, or a simple online search (which is based on popularity and may or may not contain that which corresponds to reality), postmodern consumer capitalism exists to provide the ever new experience for the Self. Corporations invest large sums to give customers what they want and build their loyalty free from burdens of thinking too carefully or rationally about the most important concerns of life. The Self does seem to rule supreme. When it comes to education, having information does not mean one has understanding or wisdom. In a larger picture, Self and Soul speaks to the metaphysical tension of being and becoming. Are we now living entirely in a state of becoming? If so, how do we find the eternal moral and intellectual values of being – those that do not change according to time or one’s Self or political identities? Are there really no unchanging ideals? Perhaps it is due to the rationalism of Descartes, the idealism of Kant, or just disengaged global capitalism (simple self-centered greed), the culture of the Self does demonstrate a radical skepticism regarding knowledge of the external world or real values that might shape it for the better. In some ways, Edmundson echoes the philosopher F.H. Bradley as he explains that the Self is a consequence of the failure to seek and integrate the great ideals that were foundational to Western civilization. Many students do not get the opportunity to explore these questions. Edmundson’s Self and Soul argues that our students deserve such a chance.

Critical Theory, Great Books, Liberal Arts

Why I Read the Great Books

by Dave Seng

So, let great authors have their due, as time, which is the author of authors, be not deprived of his due, which is further and further to discover truth. – Francis Bacon, Advancement of Learning.

I began my educational journey as a liberal arts student in the late 1990’s, about the time when postmodern critical theory was winding down and scholars were trying to figure out whom won the battles over over the “canon” of great literature and whom lost the “theory wars.” I remember it well. Are we all Marxists, Freudians, or Historicists now? Those who gave up on these language games simply shrugged their shoulders and became Neo-Pragmatists. Leaving this intellectual climate behind, I decided to investigate the nature of the so called canon and the Great Books that are associated with it, to determine for myself where such a curriculum is correct, possibly incorrect, and why it is considered controversial. (I realize that many Great Books programs exist and not all hold to same list, so when I use the term Great Books, I am referring to the collection edited and published by the Encyclopedia Britannica.) With this background in mind, I intentionally reflect on my journey through critical theory as an undergraduate to exploring what I have discovered about the Great Books as a university professor.

When I consider my formative undergraduate years at a private liberal arts college, steeped in postmodern rhetoric, I discover an amazing thing about the Great Books. Those involved in the theory wars, or those bent on advocating their particular critical position often held to schools of thought founded by the Great Authors of the Western intellectual tradition. Those most critical of the Great Books claim that the canon is intolerant, exclusive, and written by “dead white males”. Interestingly, these same theorists usually uphold schools of thought founded by Hegel (historicism), Nietzsche (perspectivism), Kierkegaard (existential subjectivism), Marx (Marxism), or Freud (analytic egoism)—Great Authors, all. Try as one might, it is not an easy thing to discard the inherent value of the Great Books. The reason for this is simple. One must accept the foundational truth claims of the Western intellectual tradition in order to criticize it. Furthermore, the Great Books speak to timeless concerns of human importance that transcend the “isms” and academic fashions of the day. Rather, they seek to enlighten us as to what it means to be rational and thoughtful individuals in the pursuit of truth. These significant insights have helped me make some important applications in my own teaching career.

First, however, we see that foundational and essential truths about reality and logic cannot be denied. Even the most committed existentialist or postmodernist accepts the law of non-contradiction when asserting the subjectivity of truth or that all reality is historically and culturally determined. Every postcolonialist or social justice warrior has to accept the values of the West in order to point out perceived errors. Have you asked yourself, “what is the nature of justice”? So did Plato, Aristotle, and Thucydides—they and others in the Great Books investigate this very question deeply and significantly. In a sense, postmodernism, itself, is part of what is known as the “Great Conversation.”

The Great Conversation, a term coined by Robert Hutchins and explicated by Mortimer Adler, recognizes inquiry, discussion, informed rational debate, pursuit of truth, and free exchange of ideas. As enduring values, this conversation began with Plato, Herodotus, and Aristotle, and continues today. Postmodern critical theory owes its very existence to the Western tradition because inquiry and informed debate are foundational values. The tradition of questioning a received tradition is indeed a tradition unto itself, and is discovered in the Great Conversation when one actively reads the Great Books. Plato’s Socrates often confronts skeptics regarding truth and the nature of reality. Hume, Hobbes, and Descartes, just to name a few, often criticized the scholastic tradition that preceded them. In this sense, postmodernism is just emphasizing one side of the Great Conversation (although one of the discontinuities of postmodernism is that very few in the Western intellectual tradition gave up on the idea of truth). There are very few genuinely new ideas in contemporary culture, and when I read the Great Books, I am often reminded that not only are there rarely new ideas, thinkers in previous generations articulated the same ideas we have today with much more perspicuity and lucidity. In addition, since critical theory, itself, is influenced by Hegel, Marx, Kierkegaard, Freud, and even Heidegger, postmodernism ironically demonstrates the enduring values of the Western tradition. While postmodern critical theory has lost its standing in the pantheon of academic fads (many just accept postmodern premises as true and move on), it is important to maintain the critical spirit of inquiry that the Great Books teach us. We must ask ourselves, “what if Descartes, Marx, or Frued were wrong”? And what insights could we gain from such discussion and investigation? One thing I have learned from teaching college students is that they are more than willing to challenge what they think is received authority. Something magical happens when one learns how to rationally, logically, and critically engage Great Ideas and discover enduring truths.

Another thing I learned while reading the Great Books is that every curriculum and field of study holds to a particular canon. One claim against the Great Books is that it is elitist and selective. In truth, however, all fields of human thought have a set of selected, received texts. Consider any course at any university, anywhere. At the class level, every professor identifies a selected book list from which his or her students will learn. Let us take an example from outside the humanities. In computer science, one could hardly be considered competent or knowledgeable in the field without knowing about Ada Lovelace, Alan Turing, Konrad Zuse, or Grace Hopper. Of course, others can and should be named, but the point is that it is not elitist to draw on the most foundational thinkers in any field. The Great Conversation is simply the development and transmission of Western core values and knowledge—even if this foundational knowledge is sometimes tacit as Hayek, Popper, and Polanyi are apt to remind us.

Moving beyond critical theory, I discovered that the Great Books speak profoundly even in fields in which they may not be apparent. When I became a professor at a large research university, I began to see how my Great Books training served as a deep well from which I could draw, even though I do not teach courses immediately associated with the liberal arts or humanities. Upon a deeper examination, however, the economics of information course which I teach relates to ideas of Marx, Smith, Montesquieu, Tocqueville, Keynes, and Weber, and involves timeless truths regarding the nature of wealth, government, and democracy. While it must be admitted that our own culture and technology have changed dramatically since these authors wrote, the enduring truths of which they speak—social cooperation, voluntary exchange, and the nature of supply and demand—persist and remain extremely relevant today. The principles of how value is determined in economics are true whether one is discussing the nature of free markets, digital information goods, or Bitcoin. In my Open Source Culture and History of Hacking class, we not only examine the foundational figures of the field, but explore timeless questions about the nature of reason, rationality, and consciousness as we explore what it means to be rational, intentional beings in an age of artificial intelligence (AI). Aristotle, Plotinus, Aquinas, and Descartes still have important things to say about the nature of rational beings that directly relate to AI research issues today. And many of the Great Books have insightful things to say about the effects of technology on society. In all honesty, I have never had a student complain about one of these Great Authors; in most cases they are fascinated and excited that they can apply the information they have learned in a general education or philosophy course to what they are learning in one of my classes. Far from being irrelevant, these great texts have wonderful things to say about the nature of our lives in the Twenty-First Century. Even today, the Great Books provoke interesting and challenging ideas.