Wisdom, Reconsidered

Thinking about: Your mind

In my previous post, I examined stupidity. I argued that it is different from ignorance. Because the human mind is limited, ignorance is unavoidable and therefore generally nothing to be ashamed of. (One exception is if we make a mess of our lives by failing to exercise due diligence before entering into an agreement or committing to a course of action.) I also emphasized the importance, when assessing our options, of laying bare and taking into account the unknowns that confront us. Finally, I distinguished between being stupid and being crazy.

In this post, I will turn my attention to knowledge. Like most words, the verb know has several definitions. One of them is believe—to know something is to believe it. In this post, however, I will be using “know” in a special way. Following in the footsteps of Plato, I am going to characterize knowledge as true, justified belief. This means that if you know something, you necessarily believe it as well. You can, however, believe something without knowing it.

By way of explanation, suppose you believe that it is 12 noon when it is in fact 12 midnight. Your belief won’t count as knowledge, in my sense of the word, because it won’t be true. Now suppose you correctly believe that it is 12 noon, but your belief is the result of a guess. Although your belief is true, it won’t count as knowledge, since you won’t have good reason for believing it; you just got lucky. If you had instead said it was 12 noon because you had consulted a reliable watch that you had recently set—perhaps by checking a government website—you would be justified in saying that you knew it was noon.

At this point, a comment is in order. My definition of “know” is an example of what philosophers call a stipulative definition. In offering it, I am not claiming that the other definitions of the word are mistaken or that mine is superior to them; nor am I claiming that true, justified belief is what knowledge really is. All I am doing is announcing that I will be using knowledge in an unconventional manner. I am doing this to prevent confusion in the discussion that follows.

In many conversations, time is wasted because people use the same word in different ways. If they fail to realize this, each might conclude that their interlocutor is either muddleheaded or intentionally misunderstanding them, and as a result, the conversation might come to a premature end. Not only that, but they might conclude that it is pointless to talk to their interlocutor, making future conversations unlikely. Stipulating definitions of words might seem pedantic, but it can also save time in the future by preventing needless confusion.

Feelers sometimes say that they know something to indicate a feeling of certainty with respect to a claim: “I don’t just believe that the moon landing was faked; I know it!” When Thinkers talk about knowing something, this won’t be the case; indeed, as we have seen, they will rarely feel certain about the claims they make. By saying that they know, rather than merely believe a claim, they are indicating that they stand ready to offer evidence-based reasoning in support of it. If that evidence turns out to be unreliable, if it turns out that they have overlooked contrary evidence, or if it becomes apparent that they have made mistakes, either logical or psychological, in their reasoning, these Thinkers will retract their assertion; rather than knowing something to be true, they will have mistakenly believed it to be true.

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This brings us to wisdom. Whereas stupidity is a straightforward concept, wisdom turns out to be rather complex. I therefore won’t attempt to tell you what it is. (Confession: I don’t myself know!) I will instead share some of the conclusions I have drawn with respect to it.

You can be knowledgeable without being wise. Consider, for example, a mathematician who possesses a profound understanding of numbers but has a limited understanding of how people’s minds work.

You can be wise without being knowledgeable. The Buddha was less knowledgeable about science and the world around him than most modern sixth graders are—if they have been paying attention in class—but because he gained a few profound insights into the human condition, he is rightly regarded as wise.

Becoming wise typically requires a mix of knowledge and experience. By possessing both, people gain important insights. This means that although a six-year-old child might be a prodigy, they can’t be wise, since they lack experience. It also means that many people, rather than being wise in general, are wise in a restricted sense. A judge, for example, might be wise with respect to the practice of law, and a doctor might be wise with respect to the practice of medicine, but neither might be wise in a broader sense of the word.

If we are in need of legal or medical advice, we might seek a wise lawyer or doctor, but what if we need advice about how best to live? We should seek someone who not only has extensive life experience but has made a point of observing their own life. What mistakes did they make, why did they make them, and what steps could they have taken to avoid making them? They might also think about the goals they pursued. Were these goals worth attaining? And more to the point, were they attainable? By them? By anyone?

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I will end this post with a question. Who is more likely to be wise, a Thinker or a Feeler? The answer depends in part on what kind of wisdom you are looking for. By way of clarification, suppose you have a serious illness. You should go to a medical provider, and if you value your health, you will choose one who is a Thinker with respect to medicine. You should also choose one who is wise—someone who, as a result of extensive experience, is highly skilled both at determining what is wrong with a patient and, just as important, at coming up with a treatment that takes the patient’s circumstances and values into account.

It is conceivable that someone toward the Feeler end of the intellectual spectrum can come up with valuable insights about how best to live. Because they feel rather than think their way to conclusions, they are likely to become detached from reality and are therefore more likely to make mistakes in living—mistakes they can advise you not to make.

Thinkers, however, are likely to have a better grasp of reality than Feelers do, as well as a fuller appreciation of just how complex the world is. They are more likely to actively search for their mistakes and deconstruct those they find, so they can avoid repeating them. Thinkers might also make a point of learning from other people’s mistakes. As a result, Thinkers can be a valuable source of advice on how to thrive in the one life we have to live. While I don’t claim that Thinkers have a monopoly on this kind of wisdom, I do think they are a source worth consulting.