The Ancient Texts That Teach You to Be Human
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The Lost Value of Becoming Human
In an era where AI’s speed has made many skills obsolete, universities and boardrooms are grappling with a question: what good will that do you? This crisis of purpose has been brewing for decades, but its roots go back to the time when classical education was still a cornerstone of higher learning.
When The Atlantic was founded in 1857, Latin and Greek were the dominant languages of education. Students couldn’t get into college without them, and once there, they’d likely study little else. But as American higher education became more liberal and accessible, these traditional subjects began to fall out of favor. By the early 20th century, classical education was seen as a quaint anachronism.
The rise of scientific research and technological advancements brought new subjects to study but also raised doubts about the value of traditional knowledge. In his 1955 defense of classical education, Gilbert Murray argued that critics were wrong to dismiss Latin and Greek as impractical. However, their arguments rarely won out against the tide of progress.
Today, AI’s supposed ability to perform human tasks has many questioning the point of a college degree – let alone one in classics or philosophy. The true advocates of AI seem to believe that human knowledge itself may soon be unnecessary, a quaint intellectual exercise for those with too much time on their hands.
But what if this is where we’re going wrong? I remember feeling like I was learning something useless as a student – that the ancient texts and languages I was studying were nothing more than relics of a bygone era. However, in my final year, something shifted. As AI began to render many once-marketable skills obsolete, I realized that the value of classical education lay not in its practical applications but in what it allowed me to become.
Reading Thucydides on the grimy floor of his shop, the mechanic told Wight’s questioner that he read ancient historians “because they make me think.” This is a kind of learning that helps you become someone – not just do something. Aristotle wrote that every line of inquiry aims at some good. But usefulness is only one type of good. What if we’re so focused on the utility of knowledge that we’ve forgotten its most profound value: to help us become more human?
Classical education, in particular, has long been misunderstood as an exercise in accumulating facts and figures – rather than assimilating them into one’s very being. Irving Babbitt wrote in 1897 that this was precisely the point of studying the classics: to learn not just about the world around us but also how to be a part of it.
When I stumbled through the opening lines of The Odyssey in its original Greek, something shifted inside me. It wasn’t just about learning new words or concepts – it was about tapping into a centuries-old tradition of human thought and expression. I realized that classical education isn’t just about developing rarefied skills; it’s about becoming part of a larger conversation that stretches back millennia.
The rise of AI has brought with it new questions about what is useful and what is not. But perhaps this is precisely where we’re going wrong – by judging the value of knowledge solely on its practical applications. In his 1941 defense of classical education, A. Lawrence Lowell argued that trying to defend the classics on grounds of practical utility was like comparing a poem to a postage stamp.
As the debate over AI’s impact rages on, we’re forgetting something crucial: that classical education isn’t just about developing skills for the modern workplace. It’s about becoming part of a larger tradition of human thought and expression – one that has shaped our world in profound ways. When I read Thucydides’ account of the Peloponnesian War, I wasn’t just learning about ancient history; I was learning how to think critically about the world around me.
This is what classical education offers: not just a set of skills or knowledge but a way of becoming part of a larger conversation that stretches back millennia. In an era where AI’s speed has made many skills obsolete, we’re left wondering what good it will do us to learn about ancient Greek or philosophy. But perhaps this is precisely the question we should be asking – not whether these subjects are useful, but whether they help us become more human.
The future of learning will be shaped by the choices we make today. Will we continue down the path of utility and efficiency – or will we rediscover the lost value of becoming human?
Reader Views
- ADAnalyst D. Park · policy analyst
While the author makes a compelling case for reviving classical education, we mustn't overlook the role of institutions in perpetuating this problem. Universities and colleges are as guilty as anyone else for prioritizing "practical" skills over humanistic ones. It's time to reassess our accreditation standards and faculty hiring practices, which often favor technical expertise over subject matter expertise. By doing so, we can create a more balanced education system that integrates the humanities with STEM fields, rather than pitting them against each other.
- CSCorrespondent S. Tan · field correspondent
While the article's defense of classical education is well-timed, I worry that its solution lies in romanticizing the value of human knowledge without adequately addressing the real-world implications. What does it mean to "be human" when so much of our day-to-day interaction is mediated by technology? We must consider not just why we study ancient texts but also how these skills translate into a digital landscape where many jobs require proficiency in tools and platforms that didn't exist decades ago.
- EKEditor K. Wells · editor
The irony of our AI-obsessed era is that we're overlooking the very thing that made human civilization possible in the first place: the ability to think critically and empathetically about complex texts. The article highlights the resurgence of classical education's value, but neglects the elephant in the room - who will teach these ancient languages and literatures if the next generation of scholars is too busy programming AI? The answer lies not just in the curriculum, but also in the business model: universities need to find a way to monetize these skills, or risk watching them fade away with the last gasps of humanities programs.