Catholic Education and The Great Books
One of the most obvious features of a school is its curriculum,
and within its curriculum, the list of books read. Thus, when
a school has a "Great Books" curriculum, it is almost
inevitable that it should be characterized as that kind of
school. In studying the nature and purpose of the school,
one begins with this assumption, and tries to understand everything
within its light. Accordingly, since Thomas Aquinas College
has such a curriculum, it is frequently likened to other schools
which make use of the same books, and its educational program
is assumed to be essentially the same.
The Great Books vs. Textbooks
Such an assumption is reasonable, for not only is this reading
list a true point of resemblance, but it is also based upon
principles which are to a considerable extent held in common.
In the first place, it is commonly held that the Great Books
are intrinsically better than the multitude of textbooks which
have replaced them in the curricula of colleges everywhere.
These latter, indeed, have been introduced to make the former
more accessible and to proportion them somehow to less able
minds. They are the outgrowth of necessities imposed by universal
education, and suffer from the dilution of content which inevitably
characterizes such education. This is why a school which aims
at the best will necessarily concentrate upon a study of the
Great Books, and seek students with the ability and the dedication
to learn from them.
Another reason why the Great Books are preferred to textbooks
is that the latter, almost without exception; are "secondary
sources"-that is, they are two steps removed from reality.
They are, as it were, thoughts about thoughts. The Great Books,
by contrast, are much closer to common experience in its fullness;
they raise questions and pursue inquiries which arise directly
from a wonder about things themselves. On this account, they
are of the greatest importance to beginners, for they begin
where thought itself must begin if it is to bear any fruit.
A third reason for the study of the Great Books is that students
are thereby allowed and encouraged to become directly familiar
with the greatest minds. They are not limited to what passes
through the minds of their instructors and the authors of
textbooks, which can hardly be more than diminished and perhaps
distorted views of what exists more fully and more powerfully
in the Great Books themselves. And when educators themselves
have been educated in such a way, and for many generations,
the original light can scarcely be seen. But with a study
of the Great Books, students have a much better chance to
encounter wisdom and to become wise themselves.
The Great Books: A Great Defense
Lastly, the careful study of the Great Books, especially
at the beginning of one's education, is the best defense against
the unreflective historicism which so burdens the modern mind.
By "historicism" here we mean the insistence that
every human work must be studied within its historical context,
as a "moment" in some historical process. The consequence
of this historicism is that every work is in fact read, if
at all, in bits and pieces, and within a framework peculiarly
modern, imposed by contemporary assumptions which may be no
more than fashions. This framework itself, because customary,
is seldom noticed, and never examined. But when one has had
independent access to the Great Books, this historicism becomes
conspicuous, and is no longer assumed as a matter of course.
One begins to read the books as they were written and consider
issues on their own merits.
The Same Means, But Different Ends
Reasons such as these are common ground for most schools
with Great Books programs. However, it is possible to overestimate
these resemblances, and to be impressed by the likenesses
which, though true and significant, are quite secondary. One
may be misled by the maxim, plausible enough in itself, that
what is held in common is what is most important. In the present
case, the application of this maxim would be seriously mistaken,
for it would confuse a community of means with a community
of ends. It would be like asserting that the common network
of roads we all make use of is more important than the various
destinations we reach along these roads. Or like assuming
that since we are all using the same roads, we are all going
to the same place. For the books will be read, not just to
be read, but for some further purpose, and it makes no small
difference-rather it makes all the difference-what this purpose
is. Distracted by obvious but secondary points of resemblance,
one may not discern significant differences in ends.
When one finds a Catholic school with a Great Books curriculum,
one is inclined to suppose that Catholic belief is incidental
to its educational program, and that (at most) it modifies
but does not determine that program. This inclination is encouraged
by Catholic educators themselves, who have by and large reduced
Catholicism in their schools to some indefinable and insignificant
"presence."
Catholicism, it seems, makes a difference, but not an educational
difference. In this view, the end of a Great Books education,
and perhaps of liberal education generally, would transcend
such a difference. Yet since differences of this sort concern
the greatest and most important truths, one might well wonder
what this common end could be. If it does not arise from a
common conviction concerning the highest matters, it must
concern something inferior, perhaps trivial.
Radical Disagreements
A similar difficulty arises about the Great Books themselves.
By what standard are they judged great? Is it that they contain
a true doctrine about the highest matters? Perhaps some of
them do, but taken as a group they disagree radically among
themselves about these very matters, not only in regard to
the truth about them but also in regard to the right method
of pursuing that truth. They even disagree about what is worth
studying and whether there are actually any "highest
matters." If the end of liberal education is a kind of
wisdom, however imperfectly achieved, most of these books
must be judged failures.
Thus, when viewed as defining a certain kind of education,
the Great Books cannot be regarded as teachers, nor their
students as disciples. By their immense variety and mutual
opposition they exclude discipleship. Of course it is possible
that discipleship to a particular master may come out of such
a curriculum-one might, for example become a Cartesian through
reading Descartes. But discipleship cannot be the intent of
such a curriculum, nor can a school define itself by discipleship
while still defining its educational program by the Great
Books. Thus, for example, no school which defines its education
program in this way could honestly describe itself as Catholic,
since to be a Catholic is to be a disciple of a very particular
kind.
The Catholic Intellectual Tradition
The intellectual tradition of the Catholic Church contains
a clear and detailed account of what education should be.
Perhaps more than any other tradition, it insists that there
are great books, but it goes much further than this. It explains
why certain books are great, and it distinguishes among them
as regards their excellence and their authority. But it does
not regard the understanding of great books as an end in itself.
Rather, it orders the study of all such books to an understanding
of the truth about reality-a truth of which it speaks with
confidence, from the word of God which it receives in faith.
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