Neglecting the Thinkers of the Past

Yesterday's post on "the Academic Approach" reminded me of a piece I wrote in November, 2008, which hasn't yet been published on this blog. I had planned to write a sequel to that post, but never got a round to it. I figured that it was time to re-post and complete what I started then. 

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Artwork: Ancestral Vision, by Mark Poole

Neglecting the Thinkers of the Past

Part 1: Neglecting the Ancients in Western Thought

"The least initial deviation from the truth is multiplied later a thousandfold." This statement, made by Aristotle, is the basis of a book written by Mortimer J. Adler called Ten Philosophical Mistakes (1985). Adler’s thesis is that many of the philosophical problems, perplexities, and distortions of the modern era are the consequences of errors made by prominent post-16th-century philosophers. 

According to Adler, these errors "are extremely simple mistakes, capable of being stated in a single sentence or two. The truth that corrects them is correspondingly simple and similarly capable of a brief statement." Adler explains these errors were the philosophical consequences of subtle but mistaken premises: 

[T]hey are mistakes in a long train of thought, leading from erroneous premises through many steps to the false conclusions or consequences that those premises ultimately entail. At the very beginning, before the consequences are discerned, the mistake appears innocent and goes unnoticed. Only when we are confronted with the repugnant conclusions to which cogent reasoning carries us are we impelled to retrace our steps to find out where we went wrong. Only then is the erroneous premise that at first appeared innocent revealed as the culprit - a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

Adler writes that there is one guiding principle which might have saved them from their errors. That principle was stated by Aristotle, in more or less these terms: “It is necessary to call into council the views of our predecessors in order that we may profit by whatever is sound in their suggestions and avoid their errors.” According to Adler, if these modern philosophers had diligently studied the works of the ancients - whom I refer to here as "the Baalei Mesorah of Western Thought" - they would have realized that the questions which they believed that they had discovered anew had actually been asked, discussed, and answered (whether correctly or incorrectly) many centuries earlier: 

We cannot find in their writings the slightest evidence of their sharing Aristotle’s insight that no man by himself is able to attain the truth adequately, although collectively men do not fail to amass a considerable amount; nor do they ever manifest the slightest trace of a willingness to call into council the views of their predecessors in order to profit from whatever is sound in their thoughts and to avoid their errors. On the contrary, without anything like a careful, critical examination of the views of their predecessors, these modern thinkers issue blanket repudiations of the past as a repository of errors. The discovery of philosophical truth begins with themselves. 

Proceeding, therefore, in ignorance or misunderstanding of truths that could have been found in the funded tradition of almost two thousand years of Western thought, these modern philosophers made crucial mistakes in their points of departure and in their initial postulates. 

Adler maintains that if only these modern philosophers had made a concerted effort to learn from the questions, answers, and discussions of the ancients, they might have saved themselves from many philosophical embarrassments and problems which resulted from their misguided attempts to answer the philosophical questions which they believed they were the first ones to think of. 

If Adler is correct in his claim that the well-known post-16th-century philosophers did not study the works of their ancient predecessors, we are justified in asking the follow-up question: "Why not?" Surely these men were aware of the unparalleled intellectual reputations of men like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. Why wouldn't they make it their priority to learn as much as they could from these great minds before attempting to develop their own theories? 

Adler answers that "The commission of these errors can be explained in part by antagonism toward the past, and even contempt for it." He explains: 

The explanation of the antagonism lies in the character of the teachers under whom these modern philosophers studied in their youth. These teachers did not pass on the philosophical tradition as a living thing by recourse to the writings of the great philosophers of the past. They did not read and comment on the works of Aristotle, for example, as the great teachers of the thirteenth century did. 

Instead, the decadent scholastics who occupied teaching posts in the universities of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries fossilized the tradition by presenting it in a deadly, dogmatic fashion, using a jargon that concealed rather than conveyed the insights it contained. Their lectures must have been as wooden and uninspiring as most textbooks or manuals are; their examinations must have called for a verbal parroting of the letter of ancient doctrines rather than for an understanding of their spirit. 

It is no wonder that early modern thinkers, thus mistaught, recoiled. Their repugnance, though certainly explicable, may not be wholly pardonable, for they could have repaired the damage by turning to the texts of Aristotle or Aquinas in their mature years and by reading them perceptively and critically. 

That they did not do this can be ascertained from an examination of their major works and from their intellectual biographies. When they reject certain points of doctrine inherited from the past, it is perfectly clear that they do not properly understand them; in addition, they make mistakes that arise from ignorance of distinctions and insights highly relevant to problems they attempt to solve. 

With very few exceptions, such misunderstanding and ignorance of philosophical achievements made prior to the sixteenth century have been the besetting sin of modern thought. Its effects are not confined to philosophers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. They are evident in the work of nineteenth-century philosophers and in the writings of our day. We can find them, for example, in the works of Ludwig Wittgenstein, who, for all his native brilliance and philosophical fervor, stumbles in the dark in dealing with problems on which his premodern predecessors, unknown to him, have thrown great light. 

Modern philosophy has never recovered from its false starts. Like men floundering in quicksand who compound their difficulties by struggling to extricate themselves, Kant and his successors have multiplied the difficulties and perplexities of modern philosophy by the very strenuousness – and even ingenuity – of their efforts to extricate themselves from the muddle left in their path by Descartes, Locke, and Hume. 

The post-16th-century philosophers were exposed to the words of the ancients, but in a "fossilized," "dogmatic" fashion unilluminated by the light of understanding. While this doesn't entirely excuse these philosophers from their neglect of the wisdom of the ancients - since they should have returned to these works and examined them firsthand, rather than relying on the inadequate presentations of their teachers - it certainly explains why they viewed these works as repository of superficial explanations and simple errors.

What is the solution to this problem? Adler answers:

To make a fresh start, it is only necessary to open the great philosophical books of the past (especially those written by Aristotle and in his tradition) and to read them with the effort of understanding that they deserve. The recovery of basic truths, long hidden from view, would eradicate errors that have had such disastrous consequences in modern times. 

Part 2: Neglecting Our Predecessors in Jewish Thought

Unfortunately, the problem identified by Adler in the world of Western Thought has struck the Torah world with equal force and equally devastating consequences. Just as the modern secular philosophers have neglected their predecessors (i.e. the classical philosophers and thinkers of antiquity), the modern Jewish philosophers have neglected our predecessors (i.e. the Baalei Mesorah), and for similar reasons.

Before we go any further we must first define the vague term "Baalei Mesorah" as used in this context. My usage here is intended to be extremely broad. I am including in this category Chazal (i.e. the Tannaim and Amoraim), the "Kadmonim" (i.e. the Geonim, Rishonim, and early Achronim) [1], and many of the later Achronim and contemporary Jewish thinkers as well. 

If we left things there, this definition would be too broad. What unites the Baalei Mesorah of whom I speak? Who is excluded from this large group? How can we tell the difference between someone who is considered a Baal Mesorah by this definition and someone who is not? To answer this question, I'd like to borrow another concept from Adler - one refers to as "the Great Conversation": 

What binds the authors together in an intellectual community is the great conversation in which they are engaged. In the works that come later in the sequence of years, we find authors listening to what their predecessors have had to say about this idea or that, this topic or that. They not only hearken to the thought of their predecessors, they also respond to it by commenting on it in a variety of ways.

To my mind, the Baalei Mesorah are those who are united by their participation in the Great Conversation of Torah with each other. Throughout the ages these chachamim have been engaged in asking, answering, and debating the same fundamental questions, such as: Who is Hashem? What is avodah zarah? What is emunah? What is the soul? What are mitzvos? What is hashgachah and how does it work? How and to what extent can we understand God's justice? In other words, the Great Conversation of Torah revolves around yesodei ha'Torah (the foundations of Torah). 

But I would like to emphasize the key part of my definition which allows us to distinguish those who are Baalei Mesorah from those who are not: "the Baalei Mesorah are those who are united by their participation in the Great Conversation of Torah with each other." We do not maintain that the Mesorah is a rigid set of fixed teachings handed down from generation to generation. Rather, the Mesorah is a living dialogue between the great thinkers of the past, present, and future, united in their pursuit of truth, guided by the light of revelation and reason. Although the earlier thinkers cannot receive communications from the later thinkers, these later thinkers can join the Great Conversation of Torah by "calling into council the views of our predecessors in order that we may profit by whatever is sound in their suggestions and avoid their errors." 

Those thinkers who attempt to address these fundamental questions without consulting (or adequately consulting) the Baalei Mesorah have excluded themselves from the Great Conversation of Torah. They may discuss the same topics and questions, but their refusal to meet the great minds of the past precludes their inclusion in this conversation - just as two individuals cannot be involved in a conversation if one of them shuts his hears to the voice of the other. 

By this criterion it should be clear which types of people I would exclude from the group of Baalei Mesorah. Among them are:

• "Bad Academics" who do not look to the Torah, Chazal, and the Kadmonim as a source of wisdom, but approach these texts with other agendas - many of whom, like the post-16th-century philosophers criticized by Adler, harbor "antagonism toward the past, and even contempt for it"
• members of the Reform, Conservative, Karaite, Reconstructionist, or any of the deviant breakaway "Jewish" movements which have consciously decided to sever ideological ties with the Mesorah community of Rabbinic Judaism and reject its fundamental teachings
• mystics who claim to have received divine revelations and have sought to change or augment Judaism with new teachings that have no basis in the Mesorah
• neophyte "Jewish philosophers" who speculate on the yesodei ha'Torah without doing their intellectual due diligence; also in this category are intelligent laypeople who fancy themselves scholars but don't actually learn
• unqualified rabbis and educators who, like the "decadent scholastics" criticized by Adler, have "fossilized the tradition by presenting it in a deadly, dogmatic fashion, using a jargon that concealed rather than conveyed the insights it contained." 

The members of these groups might have valuable insights to offer - just as Adler would concede that the post-16th-century philosophers have what to offer. But since they have cut themselves off from the Great Conversation of Torah, then I cannot consider them to be Baalei Mesorah on par with Chazal, the Kadmonim, and those Achronim who form links in the Mesorah-chain. 

As a Jewish educator, the last group I mentioned causes me the most grief. I have had so many students who have asked their teachers good, powerful, important questions about Judaism, only to be given vapid off-the-cuff answers, answers laden with meaningless jargon, fluffy emotional answers with no substance, sound-byte summaries of real answers which warp their meaning - all because their teachers never bothered to seek out the answers to these questions in the writings of the Baalei Mesorah. After years of asking these questions and receiving poor answers, many students give up and conclude that there are no answers. In the worst case scenario, these students leave Judaism altogether, since they feel they must turn elsewhere for truth and guidance. 

I have spoken to students who have received this type of Jewish education. It brings to mind Adler's description of the poor education received by the post-16th-century philosophers is exactly how these students describe their formative years of education to me: "Their lectures must have been as wooden and uninspiring as most textbooks or manuals are; their examinations must have called for a verbal parroting of the letter of ancient doctrines rather than for an understanding of their spirit."

A student recently wrote the following thank you note at the end of her Chumash final - with my underlines for emphasis. I quote it here as an example of what students are looking for, and what I think teachers need to do in order to prevent the problems we've been discussing:

I really enjoyed this class this year. I love that you give us the opportunity to think for ourselves and come up with our own ideas and possible answers before telling us what the meforshim say. I also really like that you share your own ideas, knowledge, and stories. I also love that you have a strong focus on learning the pshat. I have been in so many classes where we just mindlessly read through the pesukim and they immediately told us the meforshim and dictated what we should write in our notes. I really appreciate the fact that you teach us for life instead of just teaching us for the final at the end of the year. 

Note the points that this student made. She feels (a) that I am enabling her to gain a real knowledge of the pshat, (b) that she feels connected to the Baalei Mesorah in a living, dynamic, intellectually exciting way, (c) that she is thrilled with the fact that she gets to think for herself before learning from the Baalei Mesorah, and (d) that her learning is "for life" - not merely "for the test."

If we hope to overcome this epidemic of Baalei Mesorah neglect, we must introduce our students to the Mesorah as a vibrant, living intellectual heritage which offers answers to their questions and guidance in their lives. We must train our students in the type of thinking that enables them to take part in The Great Conversation - not to be passive receptacles for dead words on dead parchment. Most importantly, we must inculcate in their minds and hearts - by guiding them through example after example after example - that the Baalei Mesorah were the greatest thinkers, and that if we hope to become thinkers ourselves, we must become their students and gain as much as we can from what they have to teach. 

[1] These Kadmonim include, but are not limited to: Rambam, R' Avraham ben ha'Rambam, Rav Hai Gaon, Saadia Gaon, Ramban, Ibn Ezra, Ralbag, Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda, Rif, Sforno, Rashba, Rashi, Baalei Tosafos, Ritva, Radak, Rashbam, R' Yosef Albo, R' Yehudah ha'Levi, Meiri, Avudarham, Raavad, Ran, Rabbeinu Yonah, Sefer Ha'Chinuch, Abravanel, Chazkuni, Rabbeinu Bachye ben Asher, Rosh, Tur, and more.