I’d rather not argue in that direction through offering a number of different arguments: seems better to point out what might be the main issue here, and why that should be of relevance to discussing whether or not reading the classics is worth it. That said, the main point, or so it seems to me, is this one: it seems to me that you make the assumption that whatever is new and based upon what was produced before is nearly always (if not always) better than that which was written before. It seems like a “progressionist” assumption: one that states that any knowledge built upon past knowledge is necessarily and wholly better – that is to say, applies to a wider range of cases on all areas it’s applied to – than that knowledge upon which it was built. Or to put it in another way: there’s no manner in which past knowledge is relevantly superior to present knowledge built upon the former. And that would be due to the fact that present knowledge is the sole product of corrections and improvements upon past knowledge, which renders the latter logically impossible to be superior in any way at all.

If I am correct to assume that this is your assumption, then I must say it seems to me that you’re wrong: present knowledge isn’t built solely upon corrections and improvements of past knowledge: it’s also built upon the commitment of mistakes and simplifications which can often be BASED on past knowledge, but not present in it (resulting from it due, for example, to a particular interpretation or appropriation of it). There is, of course, progress, but it’s not integral, but rather partial. Which means that there is, also partial “regression” (it’s not the ideal word to use, since you’re not necessarily making a regression towards somewhere, but rather just staying within shorter limits than past knowledge did).

If that is the case, then one can find plenty of reasons to the read the classics – many of which can be found in the arguments you confronted in your text, as long as we understand them as based in the assumption that knowledge isn’t solely progressive. Because then we can understand why we should expect to find in the classics some ideas better elaborated or constructed than in the modern writings which are based upon those classics; the misinterpretations that modern authors make about the “classics’” ideas can make it so that the knowledge they build upon these classics have flaws that the classics their selves didn’t; sometimes, what’s really in question isn’t even the flaws, but simply the fact that classics can be interpreted in different ways and lead to different research programs, which can be very desirable to further the advancement of knowledge, and would be impaired in a number of ways, if people only read what was based upon classics (being therefore more inclined to follow an already present research program) and not the classics themselves (which would allow them to create new research programs based on those classics, and not merely, at best, research programs based on research programs based on those classics, which would limit at an important level the number of difference between programs and, therefore, quite possibly, the number of contributions that are offered to knowledge as a whole).

I guess that, putting it in a broader way, what I mean is that past knowledge isn’t only quantitatively different from present knowledge, but also qualitatively – and, due in large part to being qualitatively different, they’re also quantitatively different. What do I mean? I mean that it’s precisely because present knowledge doesn’t merely add to past knowledge that past knowledge, in certain aspects, can be quantitatively superior (and not only inferior) to present knowledge. Due to being qualitatively different, the quantity of knowledge by either cannot be subsumed under the other. Nor can, in a broader sense, their productivity. Past errors, as observed by one of the arguments you questioned, can offer better and more relevant insights than present mistakes – especially when what is in question is, precisely, the foundations upon which present knowledge is built, and what problems can it contain. (And that upon which a present knowledge is built is hardly ever as clear in that knowledge as it is in the very foundation upon which it was built – that is to say, the classics).

Of course, it’s important to note what I’m NOT saying. I don’t mean we should read more classics than contemporary writings. I don’t mean classics are better than present works, or the reverse. I mean, simply, that they are different, and in a way that one can’t be forced to decide between the one or the other. Each has a decisive role in the forgery of knowledge, and neither should be dismissed in their role. I won’t deny that colleges quite often forget the role of present publications; but that changes nothing. One should not confuse how colleges understand the importance of reading the classics as the only way of attributing importance to them, to such a point that if we don’t agree with the perspective taken by such colleges, we should completely discard the reading of the classics. Such aggressivity, I believe, is uncalled for. There’s no need for taking sides.

Either way, I understand that your position may be based upon deeply rooted conceptions of knowledge, science, and so forth and so on, to a point that would be impossible for us to discuss all the different assumptions we make and how they differ. Nevertheless, it seems to me that your position is deeply based upon a certain ideal of progression that I do not share; and the very fact that we don’t seems good enough a reason to discuss it, no matter if we can’t ever convince the other that our “ideals” are more, er, convincing. :P

I think the positive effect of ’2)’ by far outweighs the negative effect of ’1),’ for reasons mentioned in your final paragraph. Simply reading a story about Kant and his era is unlikely to produce novel insights about the manner in which contemporary philosophy is shaped by influences going back to Kant’s time, but studying Kant with the help of an expert who provides a story but also lets you compare the story to the evidence at hand and will answer questions and challenges and so on migh allow you to make independent discoveries or at least develop some reasonable novel hunches that you can further explore later if they start seeming important based on your experiences working in philosophy.

I suppose I am relying here on my belief that in the humanities, intellectual history included, one can start germinating reasonable novel ideas (maybe not novel to humanity, but novel in the sense of not being standard fair taught to everyone) after a relatively modest amount of training. I’m also assuming that readings in old texts, when guided by an expert, aren’t all that difficult or taxing or annoying — at least not more so than reading a book about old scientists or old philosophers. (I’ll admit that the scientists/philosophers/economists that I know personally might have an unusual amount of informal training in dealing with intellectual history. It could be that most graduate students in these professions wouldn’t get anything useful out of a chance to form their own ideas about Newton/Kant/Smith in a helpful environment.)

I still think the difference between at least hard science and philosophy (not sure about economics)is critical here. People in the hard sciences have so many different way to make a contribution that it’s not that big a deal if lots of them don’t maximize their chances of discovering a blindspot in the discipline. But in philosophy there’s barely any valuable work to do that doesn’t involve discovering a blindspot in the discipline, so even if it takes a non-trivial amount of training to make philosophers capable of (assisted) original thought on intellectual history it is probably worth it.

Reading the original gives you the best view of the web of beliefs from which a position or an idea first originated, and of the reasons for which it became popular within the discipline.

Indeed, reading the actual original is usually one of the worst ways to get at the web of beliefs from which the idea originated and gives little to no hint as to why the idea became popular. Unless you are an expert in 16th century history and theology reading Kant won’t reveal why he argued for the positions he did and quite likely you will interpret many of his views differently than his contemporaries would have done. Rather than reading Kant a philosopher interested in intellectual history would be better served by reading a treatise on Kant’s works written by an expert in that period of intellectual history. You’ve only defended the point that someone should care about what Kant said and why he said it and I don’t have a problem with that. Where I have the problem is with having people who simply aren’t equipped to genuinely work out the intellectual history read the original rather than reading the work of someone with that expertise.

I mean we can bring this discussion back to the hard sciences. It’s also true in sciences that an understanding of the history of science can help scientists recognize when they are letting their prejudices interfere with their objectivity, when it’s advisable to step carefully and when a new theory should be pursued. For instance realizing that it was the mechanistic view of the universe given by newton that caused everyone to assume the existence of an either until Einstein despite lacking any evidence makes scientists aware of how thoroughly a particular picture of the theory can make them blind to alternatives. But it would be silly to go send scientists to read the original papers by Newton, Maxwell and so forth. Much better to send someone who can understand the theological and intellectual references in Newton to read it and summarize.

Finally, I’d point out that that a policy encouraging knowledge of intellectual history is only a very limited tool (if it works at all) in digging out the kind of biases you worry about. If you branch out on your own to learn some piece of intellectual history not normally emphasized in your subject that might be useful but the institutionalized study of intellectual history in a subject will simply perpetuate the current biases.

Here’s why I think that’s the case: In philosophy and economics, progress often comes from diagnosing and correcting the discipline’s own bad habits and cancerous mistakes — some of the most significant contemporary work in either field is work that exposes hidden biasses, implicit assumptions, unwarranted intuitions, and so on. And in both philosophy and economics, the biasses that need to be corrected are often ones that are specific to the discipline, and have a historical origin, rather than general human biasses. (I doubt that most people would intuit that perfect information is an innocuous assumption for an economic model that’s meant to predict the way markets behave, or intuit that qualia is bound to reduce into physical/functional facts under the right analysis.) While it surely is possible to spot, diagnose, and overcome present disciplinary biasses simply by being an incredibly good economist or philosopher, one thing that’s very helpful is to look at the inception of currently prevalent methods, assumptions, intuitions, and so on. Reading the original gives you the best view of the web of beliefs from which a position or an idea first originated, and of the reasons for which it became popular within the discipline. While a notion’s having a problematic history (e.g. the arguments that made it commonplace are nothing like the arguments used to defend it today, or it’s a claim that was originally inferred from a now-discredited premise but nowadays people cite it as raw intuition or common sense) isn’t gonna matter if you’re absolutely certain that the modern usage of the notion is good philosophy/economics, and also isn’t gonna matter if you’re absolutely certain that the modern usage of the notion is bad philosophy/economics, it is a seriously useful discovery if you are anywhere in the middle. Not only does such a discovery give you a good reason to take whatever suspicions you presently have about the notion’s soundness more seriously — and to pursue developing them into definite arguments –, it also gives you useful hints about what bad implicit assumptions to look for or what intuition pumps to construct in attacking the notion.

I’d point out that this does, I think, explain why “in all those disciplines where we have reliable quantatative measurements of progress (with the obvious exception of history) returning to the original works of past great thinkers is decidedly unhelpful.” Once a discipline has an idiot-proof way of seeing what works, it doesn’t have to spend so much time on spotting, diagnosing and uprooting its own bad habits.

Physics doesn’t care if the great physicist Pauling said something was true. The court cares a great deal if the prior esteemed members of their court (or better yet a superior court) have said something.

I don’t doubt that reading Smith is a better way to learn about what the historical person thought or what it was like to invent these economic concepts than reading a modern economist. However, that’s not why people think Smith’s work is great. Few people would think it important to read Smith if he’d been a crackpot with totally crazy theories even if he’d had the same subjective experience of developing them and was equally good at capturing the sense of the times. What I’m arguing against is the idea that it’s useful to read Adam Smith to be good at economics.

Again I don’t doubt that Smith’s work inspires all sorts of interesting side thoughts. However, so too do modern economic papers. The question is whether reading Smith actually inspires so many more interesting thoughts than the same time spent reading modern economic texts that it makes up for all the misguided notions, false starts, and incomplete presentation that always plague the first description of novel work.

One reason I think many people falsely believe the great originals have these superior properties is that in school they are exposed only to great originals and modern textbooks so the great originals are the only things they read that present original research, and grapple with unsolved questions. But that’s a consequence of this fetishization of the originals not a necessary situation.

But there are a few instances where returning to the originals has some utility. I went to the U of C as an undergrad and experienced the whole great books thing. The value of reading, say, Kant in a general education context is not learning what Kant thought–learning particular facts has limited utility–but in learning how to think, how to understand difficult material, and to be skeptical and critical of what you read.

Of course it has value. Reading the little comments some undergrad left in the margins of the critique has some utility as well. Maybe reading “Kant’s so gay… I hate this fag,” will spark an important philosophical thought about the role of sexuality in metaphysics. It’s surely more likely to produce useful thought than if you literally did nothing (ceased to think) during that time.

That’s not the question. The question is whether it’s a better use of your time than reading something else. Personally I don’t think offensive margin notes by an undergrad make the cut and I would continue to think so even if they happened to give me a great idea once.

The problem here is you directly observe the ideas you got reading Kant while the ideas you might have had reading some modern philosopher during the same time are much less salient to you since you can’t point to them.

Looking at your argument as a piece of argumentation, I would say you have presented a successfully organized essay. But it seems to me that you really do understand the importance of reading original writers.

To belabor the point, you argued well and I am sure you will revisit the classics, or at least check them out of the library and scan them as needed.

One of the really fun things about going back to the hoary old original sources is the fascinating side thoughts that have been overlooked by the “distillers”.

I had occasion recently to read “The Theory of Moral Sentiments” by Adam Smith. This wildly popular work predates his famous book by 20 years. The time span between the two books covers the Watt steam engine and the American Revolution. Reading the older book is like a visit to the “modern mind” while the secondary science of Economics was solidifying out of the churning components of the Enlightenment.

So I say, feel free to ignore the distillers anytime.

But I definitely wouldn’t recommend reading him to learn economics. You can gain a better knowledge of the subject more quickly by picking up any modern economics textbook.

But there are a few instances where returning to the originals has some utility. I went to the U of C as an undergrad and experienced the whole great books thing. The value of reading, say, Kant in a general education context is not learning what Kant thought–learning particular facts has limited utility–but in learning how to think, how to understand difficult material, and to be skeptical and critical of what you read.

Second, the picture is quite different when your goal is not to learn what’s already known but to do new research. I’m a grad student in math, clearly a field that benefits enormously from distillation and simplification of work, but when doing research it’s almost always necessary to return to the original papers except for the oldest, best-understood topics. Understanding the entire history of thought on some topic is quite useful in this case. For example, the original proof of a theorem may be long and convoluted, but the paper may contain useful nuggets about how the authors actually came up with their proof or half-baked conjectures and ideas that are needed to move forward.

progress is impossible because it’s always better to learn from the mistakes of past great thinkers

It’s useful for a while but brings diminishing returns.

Reading great thinkers might also be useful if it gives you a glimpse at not just what their thoughts were but also how they had their thoughts. It’s not useful to know that some greek philosopher thought men had more teeth than women, but it’s useful to know that he was dumb enough to think that.

BTW if you had a traceback section this would probably be in it: http://lesswrong.com/lw/1ul/for_progress_to_be_by_accumulation_and_not_by/