About 20 years ago, I became frustrated that, because of long hours spent at the office, I was not able to read as much as I would like. After all, there were thousands of good books out there that I had never read. To add insult to injury, my memory recall was poor regarding many of the classic books I had previously read. For instance, I had read The Great Gatsby and Catcher in the Rye, but could I intelligently describe the plots and characters of these books? Not without rereading them.
It occurred to me that I was reading books at the rate of only about one book every three months. If I lived 50 more years, reading four books per year, I would be dead after reading only 200 more books. That seemed to be an exceedingly gloomy prospect given that the culture I inhabit is continually bursting with new and interesting information.
No, I wasn’t under the delusion that I would ever be able to know everything. I realized that it would be impossible for any one person (probably for any group of 1000 people) to to have detailed knowledge rivaling that contained in any large library. Rather, I was seeking a basic working knowledge of many of the basic fields of study taught in most universities. I didn’t want to embarass myself in a group that started discussing well-known literature and basic principles from scientific fields such as biology, physics and anthropology. I felt that I needed to fill my head with more information in order to be a decent writer, much less a responsible voter.
I sought out a philosophy professor from my undergrad days. He listened closely as I explained my frustration. He then told me it did not matter what we read, as long as we choose quality reading material. He explained that all good writers touch the same common deep issues. He encouraged me to quit worrying about quantity and to focus on quality. His advice was to make sure that every bit of reading I picked up “touched bottom.”
My professor’s advice was reassuring at the time, but I am not certain that it was accurate. It is true that many of the same deep issues are addressed by many disparate fields of study. It is my belief, however, that the various fields of study fail to overlap more often than they do overlap.
For the past 10 years, I have spent much time auditing graduate-level courses at Washington University in St. Louis (I am very grateful that they offer this opportunity to members of the community). Many of those courses were in the area of cognitive science. Jumping into this new field, however, was like trying to take a drink out of a fire hydrant. It was not reassuring to be exposed, week after week, to ever more material that was almost entirely new to me. There was so incredibly much to learn–this remains the case for me today.
Simply stressing quality over quantity, then, does not a total solution to having a working knowledge of the many basic fields of study. Rather, it’s necessary to consciously visit quality works from a wide variety of fields. No matter how much you read traditional philosophy, for example, you will never encounter anything equivalent to the wonderful insights of modern era cognitive science writers such as Paul Churchland, Mark Johnson or Andy Clark.
Then again, my philosophy professor’s suggestion was still helpful. Whatever you read, choose carefully, because there really is an avalanche of information out there. In sum, my professor was overconfident that any individual could keep up with the constant outpouring of new information from all fields. On the other hand, whatever chance anyone has a being “well read,” that chance disappears once one stops being a selective chooser of reading material.
I recently picked up a book that provided some good statistics regarding the amount of new information introduced into the world every day. (more…)