Whither The Love Of Learning?

School is starting again, as both children and young adults dapple the landscape here in Missoula and appear ready to absorb another year's worth of knowledge.  How many of them, I wonder, actually want to learn?  Probably not many.  There were precious few when I was still in school, and the advent of imagination-killing technology has thinned the herd even more. The modern theory of pedagogy more closely resembles training than education; the former is designed to convey skills, while the latter is designed to convey the capacity for independent and critical thought.  So many people are eager to load up on skills and procure a lucrative livelihood, but some of us view learning as rewarding in its own right and the key to something far greater.

The pure joy of comprehending the world and the universe far outstrips any paycheck.  I remember when I first learned how to move the chess pieces at the late age of fifteen and threw myself into studying theory and strategy, checking every book out of the school library and spending many nights reading about the lives and games of the famous grandmasters.  One summer I spent hours almost every day reading and re-reading my American-history textbook until I knew it cover to cover, simply because I found it fascinating (the book is called The American Pageant, and I still have my old edition that is far superior to the PC version floating around today).  I later took the AP course in American History and aced it -- scoring a perfect 5 on the AP exam -- without having to study even once.  And then there was Spanish.  In my free time I constantly worked to review the grammar rules and expand my vocabulary, puzzling out the language's internal logic.  Once again, I aced the AP exam while having fun doing it.  In college I was asked to be a guinea pig for the upcoming AP exam; I killed it and thus caused the drafters to make it even harder (I pity the students who took that one).  By the time I did study abroad in Venezuela people would ask me where I was from, since I spoke Spanish just fine but not with a Venezuelan accent; they refused to believe that I was from the United States or that everyone else in my family spoke only English.  I remember taking an astronomy course in college and, the night before the final exam, reaching a point where I reviewed the entire course in my head -- I stood outside the library and stared up at the stars as if to proclaim, "I know you!" Of course there was law school, where I devoured my casebooks and scribbled furiously in the margins when a wrongheaded decision was rendered.  When I later wrote my books on the Constitution and international law, I barely had to perform any research; I consulted sources merely to make sure that everything was footnoted and endnoted.

What has all this gotten me?  It didn't make me wealthy.  There were times when it was downright disadvantageous, such as when my professor of constitutional law gave me a low grade even though I killed his exam -- he didn't like the fact that in response to a question asking us to re-write any Supreme Court decision, I undid a landmark school-busing decision because it represented the worst of judicial tyranny and social engineering.  But it has given me joy and freedom.  As I mentioned previously, the joy of learning and understanding is so great that I pity those who will never know it.  I am also free because I know what is true and what is false. I can also ascertain truth for myself where it is unclear; I am not a slave to fashionable modes of thought.  Leftism is today's fashionable mode of thought, and those who fall in line with it are either 1) unreflective, or 2) dishonest and overeager for acceptance among the elite (for whom leftism is most profitable).  Perhaps that is the greatest gift the love of learning has given me -- integrity.  If a man depends on his peers to tell him what is true, he can never be true to himself.  Integrity is like so much sand in the gears of the modern world, which prizes efficiency and conformity above all else.  I relish the role of dissenter and do not fear what it may bring, for as Socrates observed, it is impossible for a better man to be harmed by a worse.