I recently read Oliver O’Donovan’s book on political theology, The Desire of the Nations, at the end of which he gives a (pretty fair) critique of modern liberal society. One point that struck me as profound relates to what he calls the ‘totalisation of speech’. For O’Donovan, this has eroded the love of true wisdom and the pursuit of the common good in society. I want to briefly run through his argument, before suggesting a couple of practical applications of it. O’Donovan begins:
“Modern society has striven to totalise speech. It is no accident of technological luck that late-modernity has become an era of mass communication, but the expression of a deep-rooted philosophical commitment. Those philosophers who have urged that speech is everything, that all social reality is a form of discourse, have, at least, articulated a powerful modern ideal, one which sets us at a far remove from ancient societies which valued the deed more than the word…” [DN:281].
After making these initial remarks, O’Donovan goes on to discuss how prophecy functioned in the early church, saying how it both reinforced and qualified a sense of equality among the community. It reinforced equality in that prophetic speech could arise from anyone of either sex, rather than solely through a preordained prophet, as in the OT. It qualified equality in that prophecy was still an occasional thing. It was not given at all times to everyone, but arose at specific times of ‘divine visitation’, when it was to be tested and discerned. It was thus to be treated with special reverence:
“An indiscriminate babel of prophetic speech, St. Paul insisted, left no space for the divine speech to be heard, and so subverted true prophecy. In this way the church modified, but did not discard, the ancient understanding, common to Greek and Hebrew, that wisdom was distributed rarely, its speech to be received by attendant, and therefore dependent communities of learners” [DN:282].
This emphasis on the rarity of and honour accorded to wise speech, however, has been distorted in modernity, in two ways. First, our understanding of ‘education’ has become far too narrow, failing to shape the whole person. Because ‘knowledge’ post-Enlightenment was increasingly understood to consist of objective ‘facts’, extracted from any wider discourse or narrative, ‘education’ has become less and less concerned with the disclosure of wisdom, and more and more concerned with the dissemination of pure information, devoid of any particular moral content. O’Donovan notes the problem with this:
“The mistake in this train of thought is one that postmodernism can claim to have identified. There is no ‘information’ that exists outside of any discourse. The idea of a purely formal task of education is a phantasm. To extract the dissemination of information from the goal of wisdom is to promote a thoughtless knowledgeableness, undercutting the ascetic and reflective disciplines that make wisdom possible” [DN:282].
O’Donovan’s point is that, separated from the practical disciplines which shape a person’s character in such a way that they pursue knowledge, not as an end in itself, but as a means to wisdom and a virtuous life, education does not really educate. ‘Educated discourse’ becomes little more than empty chatter – many words devoid of any meaningful content, because divorced from the practice of a virtuous life.
Second, with the Enlightenment elevation of the individual, modern political theory formulated a view of society conceived as a collection of autonomous individuals with competing interests and competing wills, contracted together for mutual benefit. This presupposes a basic mode of interaction between individuals which is conflictual or violent, and this essentially atomistic conception of sociality has radically refigured social and political discourse in modernity. Once conceived as a collective deliberation on the common good, public discourse now serves the assertion of competing interests, where self-interested individuals and groups battle with one another to get their own way. This conflictual mode of discourse is now supreme in most contemporary speech; whether on television or radio, in newspapers or magazines, or on websites and blogs, a disagreement is rarely dealt with constructively, but is conceived as a ‘war of words‘ (which just about says it all).
There seems to be no greater confirmation of the futility and vacuity of all this, from the totalisation of speech to the conflictual character of that speech, than in today’s mainstream press. Originally meant to educate and inform public discourse, it now hampers it:
“Our modern organs of communication, which were intended to inform and clarify our speech, distort and corrupt it. The press, which has always advertised itself as the guarantor of free and informed discourse, has become a major obstacle to it – and not by printing photographs of naked princesses, but amplifying to deafening level the dicta of an unreflective punditry“ [DN:283].
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Application 1 – Against blogs! Or towards a poverty of words: The totalisation of speech, as well as this “unreflective punditry”, is no more in evidence than on the internet, and the proliferation of blogs in particular. Everyone has something to say, and they will say it even if no-one is listening. Everyone has something to say, and yet very few really say anything (I am aware of the profound irony that this is itself a rather long blog post). If we’re honest, most blogging consists of either inane musings or crude polemics, or something in between. Indeed, the most ‘successful’ posts tend to be the most inane and the most polemical. In a modern society, blogging is a means for individuals to broadcast their opinions, in competition with other opinions, in the hope that they can ‘shout’ loud enough to get heard. Contrastingly, the value of poetry, for example, is that a huge amount can be said in only a few words. In the poetic, a poverty of words is accompanied by a richness of wisdom and insight. This truly is a virtue from which many bloggers, journalists and broadcasters could learn. There are more words than ever before in the world – printed, typed, recorded, televised – speech has indeed been totalised. But rarely does this speech constitute wise speech. What we need in our generation is people concerned to speak wisely and a little, rather than vacuously and a lot. To pursue wisdom, however, means taking the time to learn and reflect in quiet and patience. It requires the cultivation of a lifestyle from which wisdom can flourish. Speech comes second. This leads me on to my next ‘application’:
Application 2 – ‘Shut the hell up!’ Or the rich poverty of silence: My second point is that amidst the clamour of words bursting forth incessantly from our televisions, radios, iPods, newspapers, websites, blogs… Facebooks… we would do well to rediscover the rich poverty of silence. I think in our age, more than any other, God will make Himself known to us as a God of the silences. If we are to hear, we need to first cease speaking, in order that we might more truly listen. Perhaps this is necessary if we are to detect the faint whisper of the Spirit speaking beneath the incessant noise and hum of modern life. This is an example of the kind of asceticism Ivan Illich thought was necessary for us to rediscover the beautiful simplicities of life, and for us to reconnect with our very humanity and the humanity of those around us, amidst the busyness, speed and noise of the hyper-industrialised West (see another post of mine <HERE> for more on Illich’s asceticism). Disciplining ourselves to ‘practice’ silence, and learning the patience that accompanies that, is an example of the things necessary to form a character which pursues knowledge not for its own sake, but for the sake of wisdom and virtue.
[...] April 30, 2009 · No Comments I have a new post up at the Dust & Light blog for anyone interested. It is entitled “Totalised Speech & Two Poverties”, and discusses critiques the nature of speech and public discourse in our society, using Oliver O’Donovan as a springboard. <CLICK HERE> [...]
[...] Original post by Simon Ravenscroft [...]
After reading your writing, I can say that first application is right but m extremely agree with your 2nd point and specially impressed by your words “God will make Himself known to us as a God of the silences”
There is a good op-ed article in the NY Times right now about the ‘end of the University as we know it’. It touches on a similar subject, about how the diversification of degrees has resulted in many students studying absolutely useless fields of information, with no hope of ever using the information for the betterment of themselves or society. Professors take pride in the obscurity of their fields, and try and create pupils who will emulate their careers (though because of tenure they have no hope of ever replacing their tutors). Very sad.
One exception to the ‘unreflective punditry’ in the press, I believe, is the BBC. Having begun with a proper mandate and public funding, I find that their coverage, while not perfect, is far closer to the heart of O’Donovan’s thoughts on what press should be. But I could be wrong, I don’t watch or read a terrible amount of news.
Finally, I’m guilty of writing a rather pointless blog. Its only real purpose was to tell about my studies abroad so that I didn’t have to take the time to write individually to family and friends. Is that so bad?
Hey Steve, no, I don’t think that’s bad at all. I write on three different blogs, which makes me a terrible hypocrite for even writing this post. But I think it has to be a means to an end, if you know what I mean. I think we need to think a bit more about why we do it and what it’s achieving. Is it just contributing to a cacophony of noise that no-one really listens to, or is there a better reason for it? I know I have this tendency to put something online for the kind of existential thrill it gives me to have my name in the public domain, even if I trick myself into thinking its for something more. I guess its a kind of narcissism that the internet feeds very well (with blogs, Facebook etc.). The danger is that we prioritise speech over real contemplation and reflection, and just say something because we can and we want to, rather than for a constructive purpose, and that we then forget how to really listen.
I agree the BBC are often better than most, probably because they’re held accountable by law to their original mandate.
Simon -
Very challenging.
Your first application point reminded me of these words: Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger (James 1:19).
I am rather quick to speak, for theology’s sake, humour’s sake, or, as you suggest, noise’s sake. As the old adage goes: God gave us two ears and one mouth, therefore we should listen twice as much as we speak. Quick to listen, slow to speak.
I think you might like A Testament of Devotion by Thomas Kelly. Don’t know if you had ever been introduced to it.
Thanks again.
Yeah, good verse Scott. No, I haven’t heard of that book, it looks really good though so I’ll stick it on my booklist. I’m increasingly appreciative of the more contemplative aspects of Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy in particular, such as Henri Nouwen’s stuff. For me growing up, meditation / contemplation wasn’t much of an emphasis, ‘cos people thought it was boring.
Thomas Kelly (author of the book I suggested) is a Quaker. Some of it ‘sounds’ new age, speaking of the light within, divine breathings, etc. But it is simply Quaker terminology. I learned of the book through Rick Miller. And it is only about 100 pages. So it could be devotional reading 2 or 3 pages a day. That’s what I have done in the past.
Here is a beautiful quote that I love from the early pages of the book:
‘Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return…‘There is a way of ordering our mental life on more than one level at once. On one level we may be thinking, discussing, seeing, calculating, meeting all the demands of external affairs. But deep within, behind the scenes, at a profounder level, we many also be in prayer and adoration, song and worship and a gentle receptiveness to divine breathings.’
I read a Nouwen book as well, once. Can’t remember the title. I like reading contemplative people because it is quite contrary to my own personality. As you know, I am an outgoing extrovert. So to read more introverted, contemplative works is very helpful. I want to pick up some of Richard Foster’s stuff here in the future as well.
Cool quote. I think there’s a lot to learn from the early Christian mystics – Meister Eckhart and the like. Defensive evangelicals tend to dismiss that as ‘new-agey’ too, which I find very odd indeed. It’s just pre-modern and so much more enchanted, which I think to be a gain.
Finally a post that helps to justify my chronic lack of commenting!
O’Donovan: “The idea of a purely formal task of education is a phantasm. To extract the dissemination of information from the goal of wisdom is to promote a thoughtless knowledgeableness, undercutting the ascetic and reflective disciplines that make wisdom possible”
The rightness of an integration of knowledge and wisdom is something I am deeply convinced of. For instance, I believe the world of academia could greatly benefit from a greater degree of openness and interfacing with the local church. This is one instance (and perhaps the most fundamental) that knowledge finds its true arena for incarnation and formation in individuals and communities. (More thought needs to be put into the implications of this interfacing I think. I welcome anyone’s comment.)
Ironically, though, if we see a “thoughtless knowledgeableness” we, by necessity, also see a thoughtless activism (one implies the other). In other words, those who are not connecting knowledge with formation are formed nonetheless, but by ill-formed wisdom and unexamined theological and philosophical assumptions. It is important to emphasize the connection of knowledge and wisdom from both angles.
This is why I choose to speak of the ‘integration’ of knowledge and wisdom rather than knowledge as “a means to wisdom and a virtuous life…” I believe I understand the point when it is said that knowledge should not be treated as an end in itself, but I am not so sure that this sort of qualification does not swing a bit too far the other way.
Oh yes…I have greatly enjoyed reading some Richard Foster (Celebration of Discipline and Freedom of Simplicity). He is also a Quaker. I find his writing a breath of fresh air.
I agree with you on the integration thing, very much. Also, you mentioned academia: I was in a seminar here a little while ago, by David Burrell, and I remember the conversation turned to the relationship between theory and practice. Essentially the suggestion was that all learning must come to its culmination in concrete practices. Someone suggested we need to redefine the university (or, more realistically, maybe our theology departments) to take this into account. I think the point of Catherine Pickstock’s ‘After Writing’, though I have yet to read it, is that liturgy is the only proper consummation of philosophy. Philosophy, theory, thinking etc. must end in doxology, or worship. I guess it’s a good thing people are recognising this kind of thing at high levels. We just need it to trickle down a bit.
“Philosophy, theory, thinking etc. must end in doxology, or worship.”
Classic Piper, right there. See Simon, you’re a fan after all
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Foster reminds me of the Quaker-Oats guy. But that’s probably easily explicable…
Daniel, re. your ‘thoughtless activism’, what did you have in mind? I was wondering whether any of these were the ‘ascetic and reflective’ practices which O’Donovan thinks are necessary for the cultivation of wisdom. If I’m right in what you mean, most ‘thoughtless activism’ is a kind of busyness for its own sake, rather than anything ascetic or reflective.
I’ve just been trying to imagine what kind of Christian communities / churches would be necessary for these sorts of practices to take shape. Do you (or anyone else) have any thoughts?
By ‘thoughtless activism’ I was attempting to highlight the fact that all of life’s activities and decisions are based upon theological and philosophical assumptions. I’m reminding of Tim Keller’s response to the questions ‘do you think churches are moving away from theology?’ He responded that it would be impossible to truly move away from theology, but that churches were indeed moving away from well thought out theology.
So my point is that if knowledge is not being connected with wisdom (i.e. put into action), it does not mean that action does not happen, but that action is based upon potentially ill-informed and unexamined worldview assumptions. I believe this fits with your ‘busyness for its own sake’ remark, but is probably wider still.
Could you elaborate on O’Donovan’s thoughts on ‘ascetic and reflective’ practices? If I knew more what was meant here I could give further comment to your question regarding Christian churches (I don’t want to lose that question).
He doesn’t elaborate much – he is referring to the practices of the Greek philosophers in antiquity. Chachi’s been reading this stuff recently so maybe he can contribute something, but from what I know, for them philosophy (literally ‘the love of wisdom’) could not really be conceived of as distinct from the formation of character and the virtues. In a sense to do philosophy was to *practice* the love of wisdom, and that meant engaging in certain ascetic and reflective disciplines (presumably of withdrawal, renunciation and the like). I think the point was that wisdom ‘didn’t come easy’, and so to seek it was a whole of life thing. Chachi?
‘Thoughtless knowledgeableness’ is the pursuit of knowledge separated from this whole of life, character- and virtue-building framework. ‘Clever idiots’, I suppose, who know a lot of ‘things’, but lack wisdom – because their knowledge is disconnected from how they live. What you seem to be talking about with ‘thoughtless activism’ is action without the pursuit of knowledge, which means the action is based on ill-formed assumptions. But I think what O’Donovan would say is that for thoughtless activism to become thoughtful activism you don’t just need the pursuit of knowledge, but the pursuit of knowledge plus *another set of reflective disciplines* which make it possible to translate that knowledge into wisdom through the cultivation of character and virtue.
My thought is that most ‘thoughtless activism’ which I can think of (and we may be thinking of something different), doesn’t look much like the ‘reflective disciplines’ that might cultivate character and virtue, but just like a continual doing of tasks without any reflection. So thoughtless activists would thus need to *practice the love of wisdom*, just like someone with a ‘thoughtless knowledgeableness’ would – they are two sides of the same coin, as it were. Does that make any sense?
So I suppose I was wondering what ‘reflective disciplines’ we might introduce in churches to try and address all this. A more deliberate liturgy perhaps.
I agree that the two are from the same coin. That is what I meant by ‘one necessitates the other’ (maybe that is going a bit too far, but I think its mostly true). If the academy suffers from the pointless pursuit of knowledge, then I think the church mostly suffers from the other…action without a geat deal of knowledge and reflection.
So the ‘reflective disciplines’ would be something of a necessary interface between knowledge and practice…a connector of sorts? Deliberate liturgy sounds intriguing. I suppose this means connecting theological reflection into our weekly communal worship…or rather weekly communal worship that is deeply and deliberately informed by our theological conviction and reflection. This reminds me of something Jim Munson said in Rugby not long ago. In reference to the looming economic recession, he suggested that worship leaders would need to do more than merely choose songs for a given week, but to ask, more deeply, what is it that the people of God need to be grounded in this week in order to face what is on the socio-economic horizon. I think his point was more oriented to a charismatic guidance rather than theological reflection (need these be as distant from each other as is often assumed?), but it bears a striking similarity to what we are talking about I think.
Charismatic evangelicals (the camp to which I loosely belong) give a large amount of attention to music and the ‘platform’ this brings for further charismatic ministry. Without tossing this aside, I think the Eucharistic dynamic of worship could be a key area to focus on (a much neglected area in my sector of the church).
Do you have any concrete ideas on any of this?
Me? Concrete ideas? I just read books.
I haven’t given it a great deal of thought until now, but I think it’s a discussion which needs to be had. As I keep saying, Illich’s thing about ascetic practices is an absolute must for me; we need to think along those lines. James P was telling me that he went to a Coptic service on Good Friday, and they did their Coptic chanting thing for about 10 minutes. He said it was a great vehicle for a kind of meditative reflection that we’re not very good at in modern society. I feel like we’re so used to having constant demands on our time, that anything that opens up a space for reflection or meditation and pulls us up out of that incessant time-consciousness is a good thing. Like I said in the post, I think ‘practising silence’ might be important – even in a corporate context.
Also, I’m sure 2000 years of Christian tradition has a whole wealth of practices that can act as the ‘interface’ you mentioned (which is a great point, by the way). So much of what is done in charismatic churches seems very ‘thin’ and weightless; reaching back and recovering ‘thicker’ more theologically substantial practices would be a gain, obviously.
To be honest, I’m more interested in what you, or perhaps Scott, have to say as you’re both in active ministry.
Implementation of silence, meditation and listening would be very important to the people of God – privately and corporately. This can be an avenue for deeper intimacy, hearing from God, and also receiving something that would be edifying to the whole gathered community.
And I was just pondering the purpose of songs. They are a medium for an existential engagement with God. But they are also a teaching tool. I would want to guard against being that overly theologically minded guy who disregards to the simple choruses and, in their stead, would only embrace more traditional hymns. I am aware that the only major ‘song book’ in Scripture, the Psalms, was not written mainly for theological purposes, but for expression. So I don’t think our songs have to always be in line with In Christ Alone or A Mighty Fortress Is Our God. But, I was just pondering an attempt to put the Nicene Creed into song, with a meditative and reflective melody. That would be interesting to sing this and follow it by reflecting on its truth. Or this could be done with a few other prayers in Scripture (Our Father who art in heaven….).
Just some thoughts.
Indeed, or you could have everyone do some chanting.
I found this a very thoughtful post, and challenging. It’s interesting your point that with the proliferation of new modes of communication, people seem to be losing the ability or inclination to really listen, thanks to their eagerness to speak and impose themselves first. There seem to be certain ‘power plays’ going on there; very agonistic and socially atomising.
After reading this post, I now feel more comforted that our blog posts have been so infrequent. Perhaps we can slide this infrequency under the guise of “wisdom”
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But yes, “education as information” is definitely empty. An important example of this is the fact that schools are once again having to resurrect classes on ethics. We need “education as formation,” i.e., discipleship.
Wisdom must be holistic to life. This was the pattern of that great teacher with all his disciples…Socrates. Or Jesus too, he had some disciples…
Daniel: I think you make an excellent point about the opposite scenario, thoughtless activism. This is the accusation laid against some of the liberal proponents in the emerging church. An emphasis on common goals and deeds, and a lack of (or in spite of) beliefs. But it is important to note that the New Testament reinforces that correct beliefs are integral to (and indeed, prior to) actions.
Simon:
“‘Thoughtless knowledgeableness’ is the pursuit of knowledge separated from this whole of life, character- and virtue-building framework. ‘Clever idiots’, I suppose, who know a lot of ‘things’, but lack wisdom – because their knowledge is disconnected from how they live.”
This describes me perfectly, by the way
. I plan to remedy this situation by buying and wearing a “WWJD” bracelet.
Re: Reflective Disciplines etc.
At our church, we recite the Apostle’s Creed every meeting. One song that we sing is indeed what Scott suggested, “Our father, who art in heaven…”
Last semester, I wrote a research paper for my “History of Art & Music” class. I visited a local emerging church, to observe their worship meeting. The particular meeting that I attended was a rather conventional modern church meeting. But everyone pointed out to me that their corporate gatherings often involve anything from psalmodies to Orthodox songs, to Sufjan Stevens, and more.
I think it is very healthy for a gathering of believers to not only contextualize into their own time/setting, but also dip into the traditions of not only the past, but globally. And the Quaker practice of sitting in silent meditation wouldn’t be wasted, either.