Intellectual History, Liberal Arts, Metaphysics, Natural Theology, Philosophy, Philosophy of Science

Lucretius: A Conversation Between Science and Philosophy, Part Two

by Dave Seng

In the first part of this series, we examined a few ideas regarding the intersection of philosophy and science that are raised by Lucretius’s poem The Way Things Are. In this part, we will explore the concept of Being. (Part one can be found here.)

Being can be understood as all there is, or the totality of reality. That which is, or Being, can not be denied. As Rene Descartes (1596 – 1650) taught us, something must exist, because it is impossible to doubt one’s own existence (Descartes, Vol. 28, 275-276). If I exist, something exists with certainty. In addition, when our cognitive faculties are working correctly, perception is always the apprehension of something that has existence in reality. Being, or reality, cannot be denied and is a first principle for both metaphysics and science. It is a natural impulse, then, to explore the nature and foundational principles of Being. Early in his poem, Lucretius points us to one of his first principles of Being. Lucretius asserted that his philosophical starting point is “nothing comes from nothing” (3) and explains:

… As for us,

Once we have seen that Nothing comes from

nothing,

We shall perceive with great clarity

What we are looking for, whence each thing

comes,

How things are caused, and no “gods’ will”

about it. (Italics in original, Lucretius 3)

In this short passage, we see that Lucretius develops important questions about the first principles of reality. He wants to know the nature of existence in light of the fact that nothing comes from nothing, the causes of events or “how things are caused,” and whether or not a god is involved in the creation of the universe1. Nonetheless, it is important to examine a couple of other basic positions that Lucretius believes to be foundational and which speak to the ultimate principles of physical reality and Being. Throughout The Way Things Are, Lucretius makes the claim, nothing comes from nothing, which is his logical point of departure (3). He grounds this starting point in two basic ideas or assumptions. The first is what can be called the uniformity of nature. Lucretius explains:

Now, if things come from nothing, all things

could

Produce all kinds of things; nothing

would need

Seed of its own. (3)

Lucretius believed that there is a regular order to physical nature which accounts for the uniformity of events such as like producing like, and things coming from their own seed or source. If there is an order to physical nature, then it is reasonable to think that events will have the same degree of inter-connectivity and predictability in the future as they demonstrated in the past or in the present.2 The general idea is, if an acorn is planted into nourishing soil, and nothing prevents it from flourishing, it will grow into an oak tree. There seems to be a regular or general order to nature. According to Lucretius, if there is no order and uniformity to nature, things would be completely unpredictable and chaotic.

Lucretius asserts his second point:

Our second axiom is this, that nature

Resolves each object to its basic atoms

But does not ever utterly dissolve it. (4)

And also,

But matter,

As I have proved before, can never be

Reduced to nothing, so, nor things created

From nothing. (12)

Lucretius’s second axiom is extremely thoughtful and prescient for his day. It seems to correspond with the notion that energy can neither be created; nor destroyed in a closed system, what is often called the scientific principle of conservation. In other words, the total energy of a closed system is constant; energy can be transformed from one form to another, but can be neither created nor destroyed. It is fascinating that Lucretius understood this principle long before it was articulated by classical (Newtonian) physicists. Lucretius points out that change can be a mysterious thing. Being always involves becoming or change and yet even among change, there is that which abides. In philosophical terms, temporal things change in the realm of becoming (change is a synonym for Becoming, and is in antithesis to Being—that which is immutable or permanent). Change and the cause of change is still worthy of investigation in light of the fact that there is something which remains throughout the process of change.

This is what Lucretius means when he says,

But if throughout this history, there

have been

Renewals, and the sum of things can stay,

Beyond all doubt, there must be things possessed

Of an Immortal essence. Nothing can

Disintegrate entirely into nothing. (4)

Lucretius recognizes that changing things in the physical world perdure in one form or another but do not disintegrate into nothing. It is important to note that Lucretius draws philosophic insights from empirical induction. He looks at normal everyday objects found in this world and draws ontological conclusions based on their particular objective existence and secondary properties. Here, the Aristotelian philosophical distinction between substance and essence is helpful with understanding what Lucretius is getting at. When substance changes, or what is called substantial change, a thing changes in its manner of being (what is called a “mode of being”) such as when a cat dies and becomes a corpse. The mode of being changes for the animal, but it does not go into non-being due to the principle of conservation. Accidental change occurs when the cat is born, grows, moves around, and changes in shape, color, or breaks a leg due to a fall. Accidental change is dependent on the substantial reality of the cat. When Lucretius speaks of an “immortal essence” of a thing he is highlighting the idea that there is a basic nature or “whatness” to something (such as a cat) that makes it the kind of thing it is. A cat, has basic properties that make it essentially a cat and not a dog or something else, things shared by all cats such as a love for milk, a penchant for chasing mice, and meowing when they want attention. When a cat dies, the essence or “catness” is not destroyed. This is due to the fact that substance is not essence and essence is not substance. This is why Lucretius declares that, in philosophic terms, essence is immortal. When things change accidentally in quality, quantity, or space, they do not completely go away or into absolute non-being. If, however, all reality (Being) were to experience a change into non-being, it would be a negation of all that is, not a substantial change in the mode or manner of Being.

Works Cited:

Descartes, Rene. Discourse on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason. Great Books of the Western World. Vol. 28. Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1999.

Lucretius. The Way Things Are. Great Books of the Western World. Vol. 11. Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1999.

1Sometimes philosophers in the tradition of Aristotle and Aquinas use Lucretius’s principle that “nothing comes from nothing” as ground for positing a first cause type of argument for the cosmos. As noted in the first part of this series, it is unclear how strict an atomist Lucretius was. For example, he referred to the goddess Venus as the “creatress” in the first page of the poem and continues to refer to her throughout the work.

2Some philosophers of science call this the principle of predictive uniformity.

Intellectual History, Liberal Arts, Metaphysics, Natural Theology, Philosophy, Philosophy of Science

Lucretius: A Conversation Between Science and Philosophy, Part One

by Dave Seng

This will be the first post of three regarding the Roman poet Lucretius (99 BC – 55 BC) and his philosophical poem, The Way Things Are. When one comes to Lucretius, his poem is often interpreted in terms of atomism, materialism, or strict philosophical naturalism. There is much truth to this interpretation. In this series, however, I want to make a larger metaphysical analysis and discuss the intersection of science and philosophy that was articulated by the poet. I thought it would be helpful to use Aristotle’s ideas to augment, clarify, and critique parts of Lucretius. Along the way we will bring Descartes and A. N. Whitehead for reflection. I hope you find the discussion helpful.

What we learn from the Roman Epicurean poet Lucretius is that when we explore questions about the nature of Being, including its properties, nature, and development, there is always a philosophical and scientific aspect to them. In The Way Things Are, Lucretius investigates the nature of reality poetically as he examines the physical world and draws philosophical implications about it. His approach is not necessarily new among the classical authors, but his insight that what we learn from physical reality has a philosophical dimension, is significant. Most ancient philosophers, including Plato and Aristotle held to this dual aspect of inquiry into the nature and development of the cosmos. Aristotle, more than Plato, took physical reality seriously and begins his philosophical and scientific investigations empirically and inductively drawing from the facts of the natural world around him. Aristotle was careful to articulate that his logical abstractions and conclusions corresponded to reality (much of his logical reasoning was drawn from external reality and conducted to show how nature works. After all, the laws of logic are simple properties of being). Lucretius, too, was very interested in the workings of the world around him and wrote The Way Things Are as an attempt to describe the properties and principles of natural science. Lucretius’s poem is a fascinating examination of a number of very important questions related to the intersection of philosophy and science. In other words, whenever the nature and character of Being is explored, philosophical and scientific questions are always involved.

Throughout his poem, Lucretius poetically describes the nature of Being (all of reality), the importance of induction, the scientific principles of uniformity and conservation, the law of causality, and the nature of explanation. Lucretius, is not the only important author who has articulated and explored these questions. The conversation Lucretius engaged in about science and philosophy is also augmented and developed by such thinkers as Aristotle, Descartes, A. N. Whitehead, among others.

In a broad interpretation, then, Lucretius’s poem can be read as a conversation between science and philosophy. Here, science is defined as the knowledge of our physical world which is discovered through testable and reproducible empirical experimentation, and is quantifiable and objective. Simply put, science is knowledge of the world obtained by the five senses and verified through repeatable inductive processes. Philosophy, or how one thinks rationally and critically about the natural world, is concerned—in this context—about how scientific knowledge corresponds, or is in agreement with metaphysical first principles, and how philosophical concepts relate to physical reality. Lucretius helps us to understand that a philosophy of science is important when examining both the philosophical and empirical implications of science. In this case, philosophy of science is not only interested in how empirical scientific results correspond to logical analysis, but is also interested in discovering the relationship and interaction between metaphysical first principles and scientific knowledge. Such philosophical concepts as being and becoming, the law of noncontradiction and other laws of logic which are the foundations for mathematics and critical reasoning, along with the principle of causality (which, we will see below is a logical extension of the law of noncontradiction), and the principle of the uniformity of nature are important philosophical aspects of reality that are assumed in the scientific process and must be held in order for science to function coherently. To summarize, science is descriptive, inductive, and empirical while philosophy, and particularly, metaphysics, seeks to understand the first principles of reality which are not empirical, and seeks to interpret scientific conclusions through the right use of reason and logic and to learn how both science and metaphysics provide insight into reality or Being. Lucretius wanted us to explore the philosophical and scientific foundations for Being, causation, and the nature of change.

First, however, it is important to examine Lucretius’s scientific postulations. Scientifically, Lucretius is an “atomist,” meaning he holds that all physical reality can be reduced to atoms and tiny indestructible material objects.1 Among other places, the poet tells us,

Seeds of things, firstlings, atoms, and in

them lies

The sum of all created things. (7)

Furthermore, Lucretius seeks to investigate the physical world “by insight into nature” and “systematic contemplation” (3). It is clear throughout his poem that his process is empirical and inductive. Interestingly, Lucretius had some sophisticated ideas about science and nature, itself, which still resonate with philosophers of science today. These ideas are centered around scientific concepts of the uniformity of nature and the conservation of energy. Lucretius’s inductive methodology laid the foundation for his scientific conceptual scheme. Induction is the logical process of coming to general conclusions drawn from particular instances. For example, one can correctly reason that since Socrates is mortal, Aristotle is mortal, and Ralph is mortal that all humans are mortal. (It is not necessary to examine every single individual to know that humans are mortal.) As a methodology, induction itself rests upon important metaphysical concepts. A. N. Whitehead, for example, explains this point,

Induction presupposes metaphysics. In other words, it rests upon an antecedent rationalism. You cannot have a rational justification for your appeal to history until your metaphysics has assured you that there is a history to appeal to; and likewise your conjectures as to the future presuppose some basis of knowledge that there is a future already subjected to some determinations. (A. N. Whitehead, Vol. 55, 156)

Whitehead explains what Lucretius understands intuitively and poetically. Induction, the process of generating generalized conclusions from particular instances, rests upon the idea that there is an order and unity to events in the world, and that past events can be understood in light of the present and applied to the future based on the principle of uniformity. Induction is one of the basic properties of Being. Lucretius showed that order, unity, and induction rely on prior philosophical postulates. The scientific method, which is based on induction and repeatable events, rests on metaphysical assumptions. This is one reason why questions about the physical universe always involve both empirical and philosophical concepts.

Works cited:

Lucretius. The Way Things Are. Great Books of the Western World. Vol. 11. Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1999.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Science and the Modern World. Great Books of the Western World. Vol. 55. Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1999.

1Lucretius was not the first to hold such a view. The pre-Socratic philosopher Democritus was also an atomist. Ancient atomists believed atoms were indestructible. It is now known, however, that atoms are destructible, but in general, Lucretius seems to have been on the right track. In addition, it is unclear how strict an atomist Lucretius was. For example, he referred to the goddess Venus as the “creatress” in the first page of the poem and referres to her throughout the work.

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.