BY Robert J. Parmach
A hallmark of philosophy is “to make distinctions that make a difference.” When developing, defending, and disputing arguments, it is essential to have a valid point – one guided by informed criticism, discernable purpose, and tact – not demolition or domination tactics alone. Senseless distinctions are just that – senseless. Maybe that’s why philosophy done poorly gets, and deserves, a bad reputation.
The Greek philosopher Socrates (469–399 BCE) highlighted three types of thinking: ignorant, arrogant, and wise.
The ignorant person does not know that she does not know. At first glance, we pity her. But, we don’t let her get away with being ignorant for very long. We hold that she should learn soon enough and not use ignorance as an excuse for action or inaction.
The arrogant person thinks he knows but really does not know – and he’s usually pretentious and annoying. Claiming omniscience, he turns a deaf ear to learning from others. His is a lonely existence.
The wise person knows the limits of her knowledge; she recognizes that she does not know everything. She listens to herself and others. Her humble ears are attuned to the world in action. The wise person is the humble person.
Though a difficult kind of conversation to have because it exposes error, self-criticism, and vulnerability, Socrates’ lesson in humility is an essential part of Jesuit education. It works to move our students and faculty from clueless speculation to reasoned explanation, from ignorant and arrogant prejudice to discerned wisdom, false entitlement to receptive insights, and from groundless doubt to critical belief. It also teaches us how self-knowledge, grace, and foul-ups are interlaced. St. Ignatius of Loyola encouraged us to embrace this daily labor of love – teaching self and others to become educated people who patiently work hard, ask insightful questions, reflect deeply, and bring beauty, humor, and grit to life. But what exactly do these humility conversations look like in everyday life?
Consider the network of people in your Jesuit school (classmate, professor, administrator, coach, RA, Jesuit, counselor, resident minister, public safety officer, work study supervisor, academic advisor) who take the time to have those difficult, sometimes awkward, conversations that make a difference. These conversations not only challenge our ignorant and arrogant ways of thinking and behaving, but also say something about the character of the people surfacing these delicate themes. They tell you what you need to hear, not simply what you want to hear. They make distinctions for a reason: to build and transform, not berate and destroy. They work to educate the whole person and do so by human example.
Fred P. Pestello (above middle), president of Saint Louis University, speaks with protestors during the OccupySLU clocktower encampment and subsequent campus teach-in on racial justice in 2014. Photo courtesy of Saint Louis University and the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities.
Consider the conversation between a professor and student after a week in which a student arrived late to class three times and failed a quiz. The professor explains how a work ethic of punctuality and focus can help the student perform better in class. But maybe the professor was ignorant of, or arrogantly dismissed, the commuter student’s competing responsibilities of job, financial concerns, and care of younger siblings, which the student now admits candidly. After understanding these factors, the professor and student can both do some reflection about discerned priorities. The professor can discuss some helpful campus resources and why the student might need to have his own difficult conversation with his parents who, in turn, might not realize that these family responsibilities negatively affect his college academics even though he was always able to juggle them in high school. These conversations and distinctions really do matter for student, professor, and family alike. That’s humble care of the whole person.
Think about the uncomfortable conversation between a soccer coach and student player about why teammates don’t respect this player because of her attitude and false sense of entitlement on and off the field. This can be followed by an honest explanation of how this situation is bad for team spirit as well as for the player’s moral development as a young adult. Or, consider the conversation a student worker has with his work study supervisor to explain why he feels pressure to work uncompensated overtime and how this is causing awkwardness, anxiety, and even animosity in the office environment.
Think of the many important conversations that challenge our myopic views. What does pop culture idolize and demonize today? Where do we stand in the spectrum as critically educated? At Jesuit schools, we’re called to work on this daily mission of decreasing ignorance and arrogance in the classroom, in organizations and clubs, in the campus gym, and in our spiritual lives. When we do this, we take a humble step closer to wisdom. We can then more clearly find God animated in our lives and world.
As Ignatius reminds us, “he who wishes to reform the world must begin with himself, or else he loses his labor.” So, let’s not forget to do our unassigned homework: take some time for daily self-inventory and have those difficult conversations that transform. They hallmark our Jesuit education and really do make a difference. My Fordham students and colleagues continue to teach me that practical wisdom lesson every day.
Robert J. Parmach is first-year dean of Fordham College at Rose Hill, director of the Manresa Scholars Program, and coordinator of West Wing Ignatian Integrated Learning Community at Fordham University.
The featured cover photo (above) is courtesy of Korney Violin via Unsplash.