Word
Gems
What is a
man but the sum of his thoughts?
Philosophy:
- Mortimer Adler:
1902-2001
- The Day Philosophy
Died
Friday June 29 8:27 AM ET
Philosopher, Reformer Adler Dies
By F.N. D'ALESSIO, Associated Press Writer
CHICAGO (AP) - Philosopher and education reformer Mortimer J. Adler, who sought to
bring intellectualism to the general public with the Great Books program, his own
best-selling books and the Encyclopaedia Britannica, has died. He was 98.
The former Chicagoan died Thursday at his home in San Mateo, Calif.
As an author and editor, Adler built a publishing empire on an unlikely
foundation: the philosophic system of Aristotle and St. Thomas Aquinas.
That system influenced his work as compiler of the Great Books of the Western
World and as editor of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. Earlier, in the 1930s, it was the
underlying theme of the educational reforms Adler and his colleagues carried out at the
University of Chicago under the leadership of then-president Robert Maynard Hutchins.
In an age of relativism and multiculturalism, Adler championed what he viewed as
universal values and the Western tradition. His heroes - Aristotle, Aquinas, John Locke
and John Stuart Mill - were assailed as irrelevant by student activists in the 1960s and
subjected to "politically correct'' attack in later decades.
But Adler said: "You can't be a philosopher and an activist. If you do, you
get all mixed up.''
While many modern philosophers aimed their teaching at graduate students and
readers of specialized journals, Adler addressed the general public. The Great Books
Foundation he and Hutchins established in 1946 oversaw groups in thousands of communities,
offering people the opportunity to read and discuss classic works of literature.
Discussion of the books is a big part of the learning process, he stressed,
saying, "Solitary reading is as horrible as solitary drinking.''
Adler also wrote or co-wrote more than 45 books. Several, including the 1940 How
to Read a Book, became best sellers.
"Unlike many of my contemporaries, I never write books for my fellow
professors to read,'' Adler said. ``I have no interest in the academic audience at all.
I'm interested in Joe Doakes. A general audience can read any book I write - and they
do.''
He thought it preposterous that people could ever consider their education as
finished, saying adults should go on learning forever.
"Our minds, unlike our bodies, are able to grow and develop until death
overtakes us,'' he said.
A Columbia University graduate, Adler had been a protege of Professor John
Erskine, pioneer of the Great Books concept, and he helped teach seminars there until
1929, when Hutchins summoned him to the University of Chicago.
The revolution in undergraduate teaching launched by Hutchins, Adler and their
colleagues at Chicago challenged accepted modern educational theory. It stressed a core
curriculum that all students must study.
Adler left the university in 1952 to direct the Institute for Philosophical
Research, but he retained his connection with Encyclopaedia Britannica.
In that year, the first edition of Britannica's Great Books of the Western World
appeared. It incorporated the Syntopicon, Adler's codification of 102 "great
ideas'' culled from the Great Books' 74 authors.
He also coordinated production of The New Encyclopaedia Britannica, which
appeared in 1974, when he became chairman of Britannica's board of editors.
The short, stocky Adler did not fit the popular image of a philosopher.
A New York native, he dropped out of high school at age 14 after being suspended
from the school newspaper.
Aspiring to be a journalist, Adler became an assistant at a newspaper and enrolled
in night courses at Columbia University. There, he discovered the writings of great
thinkers such as Mill and Socrates and enrolled at Columbia full time.
At his 80th birthday party, Adler offered some rules for success and happiness.
"Never work more than seven days a week or 12 hours a day, and sometimes a little
less. To grow younger with the years, work harder as you get older.'' Adler also advised
his guests: "Never exercise - as for dieting, eat only the most delicious calories.''
Adler's first marriage ended in divorce; his second wife, Caroline, died in 1998.
He is survived by sons Douglas, Philip, Mark and Michael.
June 28, 2001, National Review, William F. Buckley, Jr.
Mortimer Adler left school at 15 to work as a secretary to the editor of
the New York Sun. Two years later he read Plato, and resolved to become a
philosopher.
That kind of thing doesn't happen very often; on the other hand phenomena
like Mortimer Adler don't happen very often. There was nothing in the world
he did not think about and seek to memorialize in his own writings. He
teamed up with Robert Hutchins, who was president of the University of
Chicago, and took on the creation of a library of great books. For the very
idea of this there were those who scorned him, but on trivial grounds, when
you come down to it. There was a seminar in Washington in 1990 at which a
dozen resplendent scholars were assembled to give their opinions of a
second version of the Great Books. Several had been added (Twain, Balzac),
one or two dropped (Fielding, Sterne). Gertrude Himmelfarb wanted to know
why there wasn't a book in the collection by Burke. Dr. Adler answered that
Burke hadn't ever written a book.
That sounded tricky, but it wasn't, really: A formalistic point can have formal
standing, and Adler was insisting that the Great Books had to be books in
the first instance, and even a collection of Burke's speeches didn't make
a book out of them. And the sniping went on.
What Adler did, with his staff and his coadjutor Hutchins, was to reprint
443 Great Books in a 54-volume set. But hold on a minute, that wasn't all.
He contributed what he called a "syntopicon." This took a 100-odd "great
ideas" and set out to identify the treatment of them in the Great Books.
The ideas (alphabetically, angel was the first, world the last) were
treated, or not treated, by Homer, the first Great Book, on over to Freud,
the latest Great Book. The syntopicon introduced each idea with a
10,000-word essay, followed by an outline of topics. Under angels: "1.
Inferior deities or demi-gods in polytheistic religion," ending with, "8.
Criticism and satire with respect to the belief in angels and demons;"
followed by 17 pages giving the volume, and where in it the subtopics
appeared.
A mind-numbing enterprise insufficiently celebrated for its scope,
ambition, and utility. But Adler suffered from the constancy of his belief
that philosophy oughtn't to appeal only to the specialists. Adler wanted
more people, at age 17, to experience Plato, and he didn't trivialize Plato
but tried in a scholarly way with unscholarly enthusiasm to sing out the
joys of following Plato around.
WFB: You begin by reaching a very interesting conclusion [in your book, How
to Think About God: A Guide for the 20th Century Pagan], which I would like
to hear you dilate on, namely that it doesn't really matter whether there
was a prime mover [i.e., a force that created the first earthly thing].
Adler: That, it seems to me, is terribly important. That is, if one begins
by assuming that the world started at some time -- there was a time when
there was nothing and the world began.
WFB: You're making a temporal point?
Adler: That's right. A temporal point. Then one has begged the question
because one has assumed God's existence.
WFB: Why?
Adler: Because if anything comes into existence out of nothing, it needs a
cause, and that cause has to be the -- my word for that cause -- is
exnihilation [The creation of something from nothing.]
WFB: Why can't that cause be chemical?
Adler: Because all of our natural science, which I think is reliable,
teaches us that the causes in nature do nothing but cause change. There is
no natural cause that is the cause of existence or being.
Adler would go on in that way, talking as offhandedly as if conversing with
a neighbor in a bus seat, passing the time of day. He did a new edition of
the Encyclopedia Britannica. He was the dogged philosopher if ever there
was one, an exuberant practitioner of philosophy, ambitious proponent of
the extraordinary proposition that human beings need to think even as they
need bread and water, and that philosophy is the great granary of mankind.
It is curious that the large obituary in the New York Times, by William
Grimes, neglected to mention that Mortimer Adler, doctor of psychology and
law and philosophy, found himself in later years believing in the premises
of Christianity and, toward the end, in the mandate of the Roman Catholic
Church. Religious belief is unfashionable in metropolitan intellectual
circles, but on that subject, Mortimer Adler could have written 20 books,
and in fact did.
August 8, 2001
INSIGHT Magazine, by John Berlau
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GREAT IDEAS?
Philosopher
Mortimer J. Adler recently passed away, but his legacy lives on in the Great Books programs he inspired
and succeeded in establishing across the nation.
Mortimer J.
Adler died in late June at the age of 98. Born in 1902, he was a philosopher and educator who lived
through almost every year of the 20th century. But he was not a man of that
century, at least not in establishment
academic circles.
From the
1920s until his death, Adler most often was a voice in the wilderness crying out against
educational trends he saw as destructive. He fought progressive education's
child-centered academic curriculum and vocation-centered training. Instead
he championed general education in the classics. At a time when moral relativism has
become dominant, Adler proclaimed that there still were universal moral truths to be found in the works of
Plato and Aristotle.
Academics
heaped scorn on him for writing about philosophy in simple terms for the masses in books
with titles such as Ten Philosophical Mistakes and Six Great Ideas
and Aristotle for Everybody: Difficult Thought Made Easy. He would maintain
throughout his life that "philosophy is everybody's business."
Adler was
dubbed "the Lawrence Welk of the philosophy trade" by one critic. Dwight MacDonald of the New
Yorker derisively referred to Adler's work as "The Handy Key to
Kulture." In the 1990s, when Adler and his colleagues released a revised edition
of Encyclopaedia Britannica's Great Books of the Western World, he
was attacked viciously because the series contained few works by women and none
from blacks. Harvard University's Henry Louis Gates blasted the Great
Books for showing "profound disrespect for the intellectual capacities of people of
color -- red, brown or yellow."
Adler calmly
explained that the authors were chosen not because they were "dead white males"
but because their work had stood the test of time. He noted that the guidebook for
the series recommended many "good books" by blacks and women, as
well as works by white male authors that didn't make the cut. But a "Great
Book" must be "relevant to human problems in every century, not just germane to
current 20th century problems," Adler
wrote. "The educational purpose of the Great Books is not to study Western
civilization," Adler explained in the 1970s. "Its aim is not to acquire
knowledge of historical facts. It is rather to understand the great ideas."
Even in
death, Adler still may be an outcast in academia, but he inspired legions of followers who have
formed colleges, homeschooling cooperatives and Great Books discussion
groups in major cities based on his ideas about education. And although
his political positions often were of the left he once advocated
socialism and world government -some of his biggest champions today come from the
political right.
"The
Great Books are alive and well as a powerful approach to education," Stephen Balch,
president of the conservative National Association of Scholars, a group that
pushes for a core curriculum of Western classics, tells Insight.
"It's alive and well in large part because of his efforts as the architect of this
kind of grand design for education. Those who favor an education in the
service of civilization are in his debt for all the work he did over the years
to establish the Great Books model and to bring the Great Books to the
American population generally, not just those at colleges and universities.
He certainly wanted as many people to read the Great Books as possible, based
on a belief that they did speak to everybody."
Longtime
conservative activist Phyllis Schlafly credits Adler with championing an education in Western
classics to everyone, against the "progressive" educators who
thought the classics were irrelevant to many students. Progressive educator John
Dewey "didn't believe in individuals excelling in knowledge,"
Schlafly tells Insight. "He believed that the purpose of education was to socialize
people and have them do what they're told, and Adler was a good
counterbalance to that."
In the early
1980s, Adler and his colleagues set forth a detailed program of primary schooling called
Paideia, which is the Greek word for the upbringing of children. In his
book The Paideia Proposal, Adler proposed that the education for all
children "must be general and liberal" and "nonspecialized and
nonvocational," no matter the perceived intellectual capacity of the child.
Using milk containers as an analogy, he said "the half-pint container as
well as the gallon container should be filled to the brim with the same
quality of substance -- cream of the highest attainable quality for all, not
skimmed milk for some and cream for others." Adler also emphasized
that as much as possible the great works should be taught in the Socratic
method, in which children discuss what they have read, rather than as a
top-down lecture.
Today, the
Paideia Group Inc. consults with schools wanting to set up programs. Adler, who was honorary
chairman, sometimes would go in and lead the children of participating schools in
discussions. "I have such wonderful letters from students who
have been in the seminars thanking Mortimer for what it has done for their
lives," Paideia Group President Patricia Weiss tells Insight.
The Paideia
Group concentrates on public schools, Weiss says, because Adler was such a strong
advocate of universal public education. Still, she says, public schools often
are resistant to change. She hopes that charter schools will give
teachers and parents more flexibility to implement Paideia.
Meanwhile,
the Great Books curriculum really is taking off in homeschooling. Patrick Carmack, who
homeschools his children in Oklahoma, cofounded the Great Books Academy after reading
Adler's books on education in 1999. The program assigns Great Books for participating
children to read and holds online Socratic discussion groups in the style that Adler
proposed. The directors met with Adler in 2000, and his longtime colleague Max Weismann
serves as chairman. Carmack says the curriculum is being used by parents in every state
and internationally, and he expects 4,000 homeschoolers to be enrolled in the next two
years.
- The Angelicum Academy puts
forth a similar Great Books
- homeschooling program but with
more emphasis on Catholic works.
At the
college level, St. John's College offers a four-year nonelective Great Books program that
Adler helped design in the 1930s. The college, which has campuses in Annapolis, Md., and
Santa Fe, N.M., uses no textbooks, at Adler's prompting. The only texts are the primary
materials that students
read and discuss. Textbooks merely are "catalogs of information" that
"essentially are undiscussable," Adler wrote.
At Wright
College, a community college in Chicago, Bruce Gans started a Great Books elective course
in which one-fifth of the student body now has enrolled. Gans faced
objections from other faculty that works by "dead white males" wouldn't go over
well with their mostly black and Hispanic students going to school while
working. But he tells Insight that every year he gets letters and notes
on the final exams from such students saying how much reading the great
works has bettered their lives.
Adler
maintained that schooling did not make one educated; it merely prepared students for a life of
learning. "No one can be an educated person, while immature," Adler
wrote in The Paideia Proposal. "Only through the trials of adult life, only
with the range and depth of experience that makes for maturity, can human beings become
educated persons."
Young people
"certainly cannot become mature as long as they remain in school; on the contrary, they suffer
from prolonged adolescence," Adler wrote in his autobiography Philosopher
At Large. "That is a pathological condition which can be prevented only
by getting the young out of school as soon after the onset of puberty as
possible."
This way,
Adler said, universities would be "populated with students who return to educational
institutions because they have a genuine desire for further formal study instead
of students who occupy space in our higher institutions as the result
of social pressures."
Regardless
of whether a person went to college, Adler maintained that lifelong learning was essential
for personal happiness. Adler defined happiness as Aristotle did, not as
instant pleasures but the joy and satisfaction that comes from living a
virtuous life. He never stopped learning and wrote more than 20 books
after he turned 70. "The loss of immediate or short-term memory that
inevitably accompanies advancing years in no way diminishes the power of creative,
analytic and reflective thought,"
Adler wrote in his second autobiography, A Second Look in the Rearview Mirror, published when
he was 89.
Some
say the example of Adler's long life of learning may itself be
one
of his most enduring legacies. Half-jokingly, Balch says, "Mortimer
Adler
is a great advertisement about the longevity you can attain reading
Great
Books. You have so many of these big challenging books to read that
you've
got to live a long time to do them justice."
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