Applicational reading (and when not to read)
If one cannot think well, then one cannot read well. This explains why so many well-read people get no wisdom out of their reading. The quantity of books read and the number of degrees attained do not count. It is better to read fewer books well. It is better to be less educated but equipped with a few well-digested fundamental truths verified by experience. A grasp of the natural laws is much more important than “the wordy ignorance that is often called knowledge” (George Eliot: Middlemarch, Lydgate’s moment of vocation), much more important than cunning and so-called worldly wisdom.
Preferably, thinking should precede reading. Only when the questions have been generated and have been boiling in the mind can learning happen. For a person whose brain has never exercised the thinking process on real problems encountered, whose heart cares about nothing and nobody, books can add no value. If a book does not address your own set of puzzles and dilemmas, pains and longings, I say drop it. You can always come back to it when you have thought about the questions it addresses. Then it will speak to you, if it is a great book. You can critique it, absorb the nutrition you need, and obtain the vocabulary to express your thoughts.
I often think about how wise it was of Hermann Hesse to call the contemporary academic enterprise “the Glass Bead Game,” one that is intellectually satisfying but has nothing to do with the creative force. Such endeavor centers on the interpretation, study, research, and the manipulation of the intricate structure of its subjects, yet exists only in the ashes of past great creation. The vigor is wasted on argument instead of advancement, on trivial details instead of significance.
Mortimer Adler, in his bestseller How to Read a Book, proposes four levels of reading: elementary, inspectional, analytical, and the highest: syntopical. I’d like to propose yet another, even higher level: applicational reading. By this I mean that you apply what you are reading to at least one troubling case currently in your life. Thus, you follow the author through his discourse, all the while critically relating the content to your situation, smiling or frowning, nodding or shaking your head, hesitating, questioning, conversing, and debating. If you cannot do this, you should put aside this book, at least for now. Or, if it belongs to the Great Books list, give it a quick once-over at best.
When there is nothing that appeals to a person below the head, no change will happen. In this case, do not read; instead, live. Go out into the world, experience nature and people. Your real university lies there. This is what Gorky calls his university in his autobiography. All learning should be visceral. I disagree with the academics. I disagree with the dispassionate and indifferent.
Clarity and substance
Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone could clear up their own thoughts first before they debate with others, if everyone could understand or even try to understand what the other is saying before disagreeing? Much antagonism and even war could be avoided if this were the case. Meetings would be a lot shorter, relationships a lot easier. But the majority of people are ready to take a stand on any issue before they have a chance to think about it and collect the facts. Shallow, unclear, and heated discussion based on shared ignorance is characteristic of most conversations. Often a dialogue is nothing but two monologues intertwined, propelled forward by a lot of positive or negative misunderstanding, sometimes echoed but never heard.
It helps to have an ordinary intelligence if accompanied by audacious honesty. Such a mind will keep asking for clarity until it gets it. Not being afraid of looking stupid forces the other party to be clear and straightforward. Such a person will not buy superfluous arguments and muddled reasoning, and thus drives them out of existence.
Average academics write in big words, dry style, and cumbersome structure. Outstanding intellectuals write in simple words, vivid style, and clear structure. The empty brain spends all its effort on the façade, while the substantial mind only seeks to get the message across. The small intuitively try to intimidate, while the great just let themselves be seen.
Depth, substance, magnificence do not lend themselves to those looking for quick success. People learn to cheat because it works in the world of humans. A lot of things work in the human-developed world: vulgarity, cruelty, hypocrisy, self-deception, flattery, corruption, evil, stupidity, incompetence. None of these works in truth-seeking.
The natural laws cannot be cheated. There is no shortcut. On this scale I too am constantly being measured, and each time inevitably find myself worth exactly the work I have done, no more, no less.
My classroom
My classroom is out there, by the lagoon. There is always so much to learn. When I look at the incomprehensible beauty of the scenery, I try to understand, not only with my intellect, but with my whole being. The blue mountains with snow caps, the sky with soft feathery clouds, the forests, the gardens, the lake, the fountain, the swans, seagulls, mallards, geese, pigeons, raccoons, and squirrels all seem to be teaching me something, so very beautiful, lively and grand, more than anything I have learned from books, from society.
“Practical” way of life
The masses take pride in being practical and scorn imagination. They have no idea that their whole lives have been shaped by imagination, and they fall for it all the time. The imagination of Homer alone created the foundation of Western culture. The tale of Creation still reins the crowd. They believe in a future state. They go to churches to worship. They spend money on festivals, games, rituals, fluffy movies, and escapist fiction. Yet they mock “imagination”. They mock their innermost longing.
The masses drink coffee to stay stimulated, take drugs to be ecstatic or free from anxiety and depression, but refuse to do any serious work to improve their minds. Shortcuts are always preferred. The outer quality of life always outweighs the inner quality of life. You can boast about a trip to the tropics, and get plenty of oohs and aahs, but your friends won’t envy you if you have just read a thought-provoking book. That’s simply not cool, man. You’ve got to go out more. Travel rocks.
Our primitive stage
I want to find out what screwed up the lovely and lively children the majority of adults once were. What in society, in education, in employment replaced their beauty with ugliness, depleted their spirit, made them mean and coarse? If we can find these things, can we change them? Can each person develop from a lovely and lively baby to a lovely and lively adult? Why not? Is society anti-human by nature? Does growing up have to be the death of the spirit? Why?
We are really still in a primitive stage, despite all our technologies and sciences. Despite the complexity of all the derivatives, we are basically still animals living a life of feeding and breeding. Everything else is just decoration.
The human side of us is still far from developed. Most people do not live a life of the mind. Most people cannot appreciate the finest poetry and music. Most people work for pay, not passion. Their jobs often bring neither satisfaction nor growth. Many of them blind their conscience to be able to do their job. Many people do not have the urge to live life in an honorable way. Look at all the spammers, and even worse, scammers.
A prophecy on the demise of teaching
About 60 years ago, Carl Rogers, one of the most influential psychologists of the 20th century, gave a presentation at a conference organized by Harvard University. The conference members were experienced, sophisticated teachers. He had been invited to give a talk on “Classroom Approaches to Influencing Human Behavior.”
Although he was allotted two hours, his presentation was short. It was simply a few points that expressed some of his deepest views on education. Inspired by Kierkegaard, whose honesty he had always admired, he wrote his points out as honestly as he could and presented them in his usual modest way. Then he opened the floor for discussion.
What happened afterwards was not what he had expected. He was besieged by a storm of emotions, with attacks coming from every quarter. His educator colleagues demanded he confirm that he did not mean what he said. Occasionally, there was a voice of agreement from a teacher who had not dared to utter such thoughts.
Many participants lost sleep that night. Although Rogers made no attempt to have his statement published, it was widely duplicated by members of the conference. A few years later, two journals obtained his permission to publish it.
So what was all the furor about? What did he say?
The main points are:
- Nothing significant can be taught.
- The only learning which significantly influences behavior is self-discovered, self-appropriated learning.
- Such self-discovered learning cannot be directly communicated to another.
- When teaching does happen, the results are detrimental. It seems to cause the individual to distrust his own experience, and to stifle significant learning.
Rogers affirmed that many consequences can be implied from these points. For instance, we would do away with
a) Teaching. People would get together if they wished to learn.
b) Examinations. They measure only the inconsequential type of learning.
c) Grades and credits.
d) Degrees as a measure of competence.
e) The exposition of conclusions, for we would realize that no one learns significantly from conclusions.
The complete list of points can be found in Personal Thoughts on Teaching and Learning (1952) , included in his book, On Becoming a Person (1961), which is very valuable reading.
This book also includes an illustrative example of his oddly effective “teaching” as experienced by a participant: Carl R. Rogers and Non-Directive Teaching, by Samuel Tenenbaum, Ph.D. The four-week course described by Tenenbaum took place in the summer of 1958 at Brandeis University. The students were a diverse group of teachers, doctoral candidates in psychology, counselors, psychologists, priests (one from a foreign country). Whoever wishes to “teach” effectively and whoever wishes to take control of his/her own learning should read Tenenbaum’s record. It is eye-opening that real learning can be accomplished in such an awkward way, while the teacher refuses to take on his traditional role and is willing to take blows.
An immune system
Acceptance, approval, and admiration are dangerous. Like punishment, reward is a part of our conditioning. It is called positive reinforcement. If you do not get any of it, life is miserable. However, if you get it, you can become attached to it to the point of addiction. This addiction induces fear, because once you have something, you fear its loss. Thus, the admirer controls the admired with admiration. The approving boss controls the subordinate with praise. Friends control you with their good opinion of you. Community controls you with its acceptance. Any slight change on their part, or threat of change, will disturb you consciously or subconsciously. Any loss of these conditions will grieve you dearly. We can be enslaved by love without our knowing. We can become dependent on another’s dependence on us.
We need an immune system here, just as we need some inner immunity to brave the storm of rejection, criticism, even condemnation, and, quite often, the Dead Sea of indifference. It is bad if we succumb to life’s beating. It is equally bad if we succumb to life’s bribery. Regardless of beating or bribery, we must dare to be ourselves; we must dare to do what we are meant to do.
An inner core has to be built; otherwise we are subject to corruption. Our daily reality is overwhelming, and our needs are urgent. The interaction is constant. The pressure is always on.
We are social animals, but we are also meant to grow on our own, quietly, in our own lot. Solitude must precede true society, as Emerson said. A complete self is the precondition for any mature relationship on equal terms between adults.
To build that core, that complete self, is no easy task. Much tribulation and conflict has to be endured before we can attain a solid ethical consciousness. Those innocents who have not fought adversities and resisted temptations are not to be trusted. Those who did not choose their inner calling over external pressure are corrupted. The redemption is harder, as now the core is weaker. They easily slip down the slippery slope from there. Only those who have made the courageous choice can take the next, possibly more severe, or more subtle and better disguised, test. In due time, through many trials, the core of a self is built. The danger of falling for even such a self will always exist. It is an uphill struggle. It is worthwhile, but not easy.
Despite our need for social interaction, our longing to be of great service to society, we must not compromise ourselves too much. Since anything outstanding will likely be misunderstood and beaten down, years of isolation may be necessary before we gain mastery.
Therefore, one seeking an authentic, empowered self has no choice but to learn to live with oneself comfortably. Emotionally, we should be as little externally reliant as possible. We need to reacquaint ourselves with nature, with quiet, with great books and classical music, with productive loneliness. Solitariness is necessary for our wounds to heal, our inner turmoil to settle, our thoughts to grow, our boundaries to expand.
No doubt we should reach out to connect with people from all geographic areas, all walks of life, all ages, all colors, all cultures, and all creeds. However, we should not fill our lives with chatter. Our well-done work should be the currency of exchange in any meaningful interaction. It should be the only permit to enter into the circle of great contributors where you belong. True friendship is based on mutual admiration for each other’s character. The proof of our character is our work. The work done verifies not just the talent, but more importantly, the determination, the endurance, and the conquering of many difficulties and temptations.
Most important measurement of a life’s work
Regardless of outcome, the most important measurement of a life’s work is how little you have compromised, how much in you has been brought forth whole and entire, in the original form you have envisioned deep in your heart. This is the secret of great art, great achievement: the refusal to compromise, the stamina to see to the last detail cast in the mold of the mind’s highest dream. This is Stanley Kubric, Steve Jobs, Warren Buffet. This is Confucius, Jesus, Sakyamuni, Socrates. The courage to stand by one’s conviction in an otherwise humble spirit is always the sign of greatness and mental maturity.
Middle age
What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. (–Ralph Waldo Emerson) This self, after its humble search of wisdom, comes to maturity at middle age, confident in the knowledge that actually nobody knows better how to live. The decision is yours. The risk is yours. The stage is yours. The best freedom life grants you is the freedom to make mistakes. To take risks and to make mistakes are better than to leave a life unlived, which is the worst sin. There are threats and punishments from the establishment. As a fish in a fish bowl, when you jump out, instead of finding the ocean, you may well die of thirst on a waterless table. All the other fish in the bowl, witnessing your terrible end, will celebrate their captivity, their decision to not seek freedom. There is no right or wrong. There is always risk. There is always hope. Walk out of slavery or forever remain in the false peace, it is now or never. At middle age, the inner fire burns into panic, in the hope of final awakening and action-taking. Otherwise it will be too late.
Since this world we are not satisfied with
既然这个世界我们并不满意
我们就给自己创造一个世界
让不知名的力量把我们带上不知名的道路
沿着不知名的道路走向不知名的大门
–1988年张永杰、程远忠:《第四代人》
Since this world we are not satisfied with
We will create another world for ourselves
Let the unknown force take us to the unknown path
Along the unknown path to the unknown grand entrance
– Translated from a popular book in China in the 1980s: The Fourth Generation