Revival: knowledge without wisdom

Woody Allen once confessed that he was expelled from New York University for cheating on his metaphysics examination; he was caught peeking into the soul of the boy sitting next to him. This couldn't happen today because universities don't teach metaphysics. As for souls, universities sold theirs a long time ago.

Instead of the meaning of existence, today's universities focus on the vocational skills students need for their first job out of university, the courses that make money. Subjects concerned with the ancient search for wisdom-philosophy, classics, literature-are slowly fading away. We must face the sad fact: wisdom has developed an image problem.

As far as young people are concerned, wisdom is the province of ghost whisperers; extraterrestrials like Mr. Spock, the Vulcan on Star Trek and wizened kung-fu sages ("The body is the arrow, the spirit is the bow, Grasshopper"). Wise people are not only seen as old, alien and weird but also bookish, risk-averse and unemotional. No wonder their pearls of wisdom are routinely ignored by the impetuous young.

Youth thirsts for new experiences; it's in their nature to take chances and to follow their hearts. Wisdom just gets in the way. "Fools rush in, where wise men never go", goes the old song. "But wise men never fall in love, so how are they to know?"

You might think that universities would hold a different view; after all, they're in the wisdom business. Well, you might think this, but you would be wrong. Every type of knowledge-massage therapy, herbal medicine, even circus performing is represented on one or another campus, but the word "wisdom" is rarely mentioned.

It wasn't always like this. Wisdom was once central to education, and its importance persisted right down to the 20^th century. But wisdom is no longer on the curriculum. Today's universities are concerned with preparing students for a career. Wisdom has been replaced with job skills.

There is nothing wrong with vocational training; a fulfilling career is an important part of a good life. Much of my academic work over the years has been devoted to career preparation. I was once a Dean of Medicine, and there are few more vocational courses than medicine. Our students were all bright, but they were narrowly focused on their career goals. They resented any time spent on subjects that weren't directly related to diagnosing or treating patients.

It's easy to see why. Studying philosophy does not make it any easier to remove a gall bladder; reading Galen sheds little light on how to recognise pneumonia. As far as our students were concerned, time spent on any subject not related to a doctor's daily work was time wasted.

It's easy to empathise with them; medical education is long, arduous and expensive. Why add to its length and cost with apparently irrelevant subjects? If doctors want to study history, literature and philosophy, they can take them up when they retire and have time for such frivolity.

This makes some sense, from the students' vantage point, but it demeans our purpose as universities. Yes, we must prepare graduates for what they will do in life, but we also have a duty to help them to at least think about what kind of people they want to be. Indeed, these two educational goals-doing and being-are actually inextricable. Let me tell you why.

No one would try to argue that a deep knowledge of philosophy makes surgeons better skilled. But it might deepen their empathy and improve their understanding of what constitutes a high-quality life. This would not help them learn how to remove a prostate, but it could help them to decide whether it should be removed in the first place.

Such wisdom is essential for a doctor's work. Without it, how does a doctor tell a mother-to-be that her baby will have Down's syndrome? How does a doctor explain the mother's options to her in a humane way? This takes more than just knowledge of genetics. It also requires an understanding of suffering, of disappointment and maternal love.