I found an interesting review today from the Barnes and Noble Review website on Richard Hoftstadter's 1963 book "Anti-Intellectualism in American Life." In it, reviewer Michael Dirda parses this 1964 Pulitzer Prize winning work, which according to Hoftstadter sought to "trace some of the social movements in our history in which intellect has been dissevered from its co-ordinate place among the human virtues and assigned the position of a special kind of vice."
The review suggests a highly stimulating, albeit somewhat dated book. Yet its central theme remains relevant even to this day; that is, the persistent distrust of intellectual understanding and thought. This "distrust" comes in many forms, but it seems to rest on the notion that intellectuals lack a "warmth of emotion, solidity of character, practical capacity, or democratic sentiment." Claims Hofstadter, how can one defend "...a type of man who at best is deemed to be merely clever and at worst may even be dangerous?" How indeed.
I find this an interesting question, because it has throughout history played a role in the development of anti-intellectual political ideologies even outside the United States. Perhaps the earliest and most recognizable example is that of the "Noble Savage," an archetype which became popular in Europe around the time of the Renaissance. It's basic premise held that civilization and culture corrupt people by drawing them away from their primitive, natural existence. Among other sources, these ideas were derived in part from the Roman writer Tacitus' work Germania, as well as from those exploring newly-discovered civilizations in the New World. While not universally accepted (Charles Dickens famously called it a "prodigious nuisance and an enormous superstition"), the "Noble Savage" ideal nonetheless proved (and continues to prove) influential.
According to the historian Woodruff Smith, toward the end of the 19th century liberals in Germany began using "small-scale peasant agriculture," as "a symbol of preindustrial society, [and] of all that was threatened by modernity and industrialization" (Smith, Ideological Origins of Nazi Imperialism (1986), p.86), what is today called "Agrarianism." Indeed:
"Agrarianism incorporated a catalog of virtues that were held to inhere in the character of small farmers. Peasant farmers had a stronger and more direct connection with nature than almost any other social type, yet they were not simply nature's untamed children. Their whole life consisted of an interaction between ingenuity and will on the one hand and the forces of nature--both predictable and unpredictable--on the other. The idea that farmers achieved, through effort, a balance among natural forces gave the agrarian image part of its appeal to people with little first hand experience of actual agriculture...The varied experiences that resulted from such contact made small farmers 'well-rounded' persons, gave them a common-sense sagacity and an ability to judge people and issues superior to that of town dwellers or wage laborers" (Smith, 87).
One might glean from this cornucopia of "virtues" that people with a closer connection to the land were believed to have superior qualities of practicality and judgment. Later during the pre-Nazi years, thinkers like Walther Darré began pushing the "Blut und Boden" (blood and soil) school of thought, which essentially combined agrarian ideas with racial-charged eugenic principles; that the strength of any nation was derived chiefly by the connection its people had with the soil, as well as the racial purity of its people's blood. Needless to say, even "pure-blooded" intellectuals were not highly esteemed in such a world-view.
Initially employed by liberals as a "defense of the ordinary man against the elites, [and] the emphasis on the political utility of common sense," agrarian ideology was hijacked in the late 19th century by conservative landholders who divorced it from its liberal beginnings, emphasizing instead that by getting rid of the peasantry (land-holders' laboring class) essential vessels of traditional German culture would be lost(Smith, 89-93). In so doing, traditional landed-elites in Germany hoped to maintain their social position amidst a rapidly industrializing country. Such compromises appear to be common features of many ideologies.
Thus there is no shortage of ideological traditions which spurn intellectuals for less-reflective professions. One thing that struck me while researching the origins of Nazi political ideology back in college was how it constantly brought to mind Tolkien's heroes from The Lord of the Rings. Indeed, while appearing in print a decade after the end of Nazi rule, the wise and heroic figures of that tale come from a farming community (all the hobbits, including Farmer Maggot), are soldiers (such as Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn, Éomer, Éowyn, and Théoden), or mythical types (like Gandalf, Treebeard, Gimli, and Legolas). On top of that, among the villains devious intellectuals like Saruman and Grima Wormtongue can be found, who use their intellect to harm, manipulate, and deceive others in the pursuit of selfish ends. While Tolkien rebelled against Nazi attempts to draw parallels between his earlier stories like The Hobbit and their racial ideologies, it is apparent that both drew from similar intellectual traditions, albeit with different purposes in mind.
Which brings us back to Hofstadter and our own times. In the aftermath of a deep global recession, continued uncertainty in Europe, and a divisive intellectual climate regarding the future of the economy, government, and society generally, there appears to be a sense of anti-intellectual sentiment in the broad conversations of our time. More than once in the last few years have I heard humanities majors lambasted by people who say such majors are a waste of money and lead nowhere. "Study something useful," they often say, like health care, finance, engineering, or computers. "Quit wasting time in history, English, and religious studies." They say, in short, to market yourself like a product; to structure your life like a business.
Interestingly, according to the review Hofstadter discusses the underlying ethos of this idea way back in the 1960s, when business ethos began showing "a contempt for the reflective mind, for culture, and for the past." Added to that might be the consequent elevation of "'practical intelligence,' coupled with a passion for some 'forward step in progress,'" such that, "'American business, once defended on the ground that it produced a high standard of culture, was now defended mainly on the ground that it produced a high standard of living.'"
Due to the depth of the recession, the tepid nature of the recovery, and the real strain it has and continues to wreak on large swaths of the population, I think we are hearing more and more that such business ethos are necessary in order to survive in a world of relative famine; that action, extroversion, and the pursuit of wealth is the best (and perhaps, only) route to happiness in our world today.
Consider the idea put forward by Thomas Friedman in this interview, where among other things he emphasizes the need for Americans today to embrace the attitudes of the "immigrant" and the "artisan"; that we must be willing to work like an immigrant (hard and humbly), and take pride in our work like an artisan (willing to sign our name proudly to everything we make).
I'm sympathetic to these notions, but I worry about what may happen if so much emphasis is placed on acquiring practical skills that we forget the value of intellectual development in the process. Indeed, where are we as individuals or a society if we have know-how, but no sense of how to govern wisely, optimize necessary trade-offs, and discern the difference between intellectual wool-over-the-eyes, and sound, evidence-based theory? This seems to me at least as important as knowing how to repair a car, file taxes, or program a robot.
I will grant that some intellectuals are devious; that some are arrogant, narrow-minded, hypocritical, snobbish, or out-of-touch with the lives of most people. I will grant that many intellectuals do not come across as "wise," whatever that means, or capable of keeping the cogs of civil society turning. Yet I feel the same can be true of almost anyone, given the proper circumstances. And for all the intellectuals who spend their lives buried under heavy tomes of arcane knowledge of an obscure (and let's be honest, not particularly-practical) discipline, there are those whose perspective help the rest of us see a little more clearly the bigger picture of where our world has been, and where it might go. As Mr. Hofstadter suggests, anti-intellectualism has a long history. Yet each time it is embraced something seems to be lost in the process; we embrace the practical, but lose sight of what we're doing and why. Something curious to consider further perhaps.
Happy Thursday, friends :)
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