Knowledge vs. wisdom
Originally published on Toward Decolonizing Physics
The foolish speak much, for they think they have wisdom. Those wiser speak little, for they know they lack wisdom. Those wiser still speak much, for they know they have wisdom. The wisest of all speak little, for they know the limits of their own wisdom.
If you ask the average American what it takes to be a physicist, they will reply that you have to be smart. Physicists are indeed well-respected by many in part because of our perceived intelligence. And while I firmly believe anyone who wants to can become a physicist, the truth is physics disproportionately attracts conventionally “smart” people.
And yet, when I walk through the halls of a physics building, I don’t see too many signs of enlightenment. I see messes left in the machine shop by students who don’t care that they are damaging equipment. I have watched career physicists throw temper tantrums in a lab. I have seen debates turn into shouting matches because people are unable to admit they are wrong in the face of data. Chanda Prescod-Weinstein writes about how physics structures knowledge to favor white supremacy over scientific integrity. How is this possible in a discipline so singularly devoted to formulating knowledge about the universe?
The answer, I think, boils down to a simple observation: The scientific method is an excellent tool for producing and refining knowledge. It does not, by itself, produce wisdom. One of the major cultural problems in physics is that in our clamor for knowledge, physics has lost sight of the importance of wisdom, and especially self-wisdom. Rather than producing well-rounded and wise individuals, we tolerate physicists who are emotional infants as long as their research is strong enough.
Knowledge vs. Wisdom
Of course, defining knowledge vs. wisdom is not an easy task; at some level, the best I can say is you know wisdom when you see it. Knowledge consists of tangible facts, models, skills, and processes. With varying levels of difficulty, knowledge can be discovered, taught, refined, and disseminated. Wisdom, however, is an intangible quality; a wise person intuits at a level that cannot be taught, only gained through experience and interaction with other wise people. A person’s wisdom often shows up most clearly in the cogency and foresightedness of their observations, judgments, and actions. Wise people don’t just quote wise sayings, they apply them.
I also believe it is essential to distinguish between types of wisdom. Wisdom is, I believe, what sets many of the greatest physicists apart, and is among the factors I look for most when looking for mentors. The wisest physicists stand apart in their ability to make bold and (as can often only be verified in hindsight) stunningly perceptive decisions about which research questions to pursue, generating and discerning ideas that will revolutionize a discipline.
In that sense, wisdom is indeed highly rewarded in physics. I call this form of wisdom “vocational wisdom,” and it is powerful. Vocational wisdom comes with the deep understanding and appreciation of one’s subdiscipline (and funding landscape, etc.) and of how to think like a physicist. The key observation is that vocational wisdom is something that is rewarded widely in physics (and the world), but it rarely extends far beyond a specific area of research, activity, or expertise.
On the other hand, more general forms of wisdom (e.g. the ability to discern fact from misinformation, beyond the context of a physics paper) can only be built through exposure to a diverse set of experiences and wise mentors. One problem is that physics, as a discipline, rewards insularity in the pursuit of knowledge. The ideal physicist is characterized as someone who spends all his free time in the laboratory or solving problems. Such a physicist will be excellent at producing, applying, and synthesizing knowledge; such a physicist also has neither the impetus nor the opportunity to acquire much wisdom (except, perhaps, vocational wisdom).
This problem is compounded (and perhaps created) by the diversity problem within physics. Most physicists, and particularly most physicists in positions of mentorship, are white men from reasonably privileged backgrounds. These white men, of course, were often mentored by other white men with similarly homogeneous backgrounds.
Wisdom, of course, is typically acquired through experience, introspection, and (to the extent one is open to it) the mentorship of other wise people. In my experience, to acquire wisdom, a person must possess 3 qualities: (1) a diversity of experiences and wise mentors, (2) the humility to realize one’s lack of wisdom, and (3) at least one seminal experience (usually a painful one) that “shocks” them into realizing that they need wisdom. White people and especially white men, incidentally, face a serious disadvantage at each of these junctures. We come from homogenous communities, are taught self-importance and fragility (or humiliation) rather than humility, and typically face far fewer events capable of delivering the “shock.”
As such, physics finds itself in a pickle. Physicists are encouraged to spend all our time and energy pursuing knowledge as opposed to wisdom. Physicists also tend to come from demographics predisposed against developing wisdom, and are surrounded by others from the same communities. Even worse, since physicists are characterized by society as bastions of knowledge, and society tends to conflate knowledge and wisdom, many physicists think they are wise – and are treated as such – when, in fact, they characteristically lack wisdom.
Self-Wisdom and Physicists’ Behavior
Of course, this entire discussion has neglected perhaps the most difficult form of wisdom to obtain: self-wisdom. Self-wisdom is the deep understanding of one’s self and place in society. People who have become wise give sound advice but frequently fail to apply it to their own lives; they are “those who speak much, for they know they have wisdom” (above). People who are self-wise know and instinctively account for their own biases, having neither an inflated nor deflated sense of self. Self-wise people are first guard against hypocrisy in themselves, rather than quickly calling it out in everyone else. They realize where they lack wisdom, and that any knowledge or vocational wisdom they possess does not guarantee wisdom in other areas. They admit mistakes and have plumbed their capacity both for good and for harm.
The self-wise are necessarily introspective, and can regulate their own behavior to actualize who they want to be, even in the absence of external pressure. Self-wisdom only comes with the intentional choice to humbly (and often painfully) examine oneself; it cannot be taught or enforced, only chosen. As such, only a small minority of people truly become self-wise.
So what about the plurality of physicists who routinely make messes, berate students, and do other imbecilic behaviors? Clearly this behavior reflects a profound lack of wisdom, especially self-wisdom. In most instances in society, such behavior is not tolerated even in the absence of self-wisdom. (For better or for worse, societal standards of professionality and decency constrain adult temper tantrums.) However, physics culture and the structure of academia combine to create an environment where these behaviors are allowed to fester. The accountability measures we have – especially on faculty – measure only research productivity, not wisdom or human character.
The result is a discipline in which smart people (read: white men) can get away with almost anything, as long as they excel at producing knowledge. Their behaviors, even if harmful, are explained away as the quirkiness of a true genius. We are left with a scary conclusion: physicists, at least white men, are not trained to be wise. They are trained to be emotional infants with a high h-index.
Wisdom, Diversity, and Decolonization
In fact, I would argue that the obsession with knowledge as a substitute for wisdom is a manifestation of the colonial apparatus itself. Knowledge, when confined to the hands of the colonizer, is essential for producing the technologies that enable a settler-colonial state to maintain its grip on power. Knowledge of the laws governing human and natural behavior, for better or for worse, also allow better control of the actions of marginalized people. In fact, we see that the US has attempted to restrict access to knowledge (both Indigenous and Western) for oppressed and colonized people throughout history, from English-only boarding schools to laws banning slaves from learning to read and write.
Wisdom — and especially self-wisdom — on the other hand, is the Achilles’ heel of the settler-colonial state. In the hands of the oppressed, wisdom provides the means to see the colonization-imposed kyriarchy as it is. Self-wisdom provides the means to see and dismantle the ways oneself benefits from the system, enabling solidarity and guarding against immature activism. Wisdom can also form the basis of a cultural conscience; it is no accident that the settler-colonial state, as part of its ongoing genocide against Indigenous people, denigrates Indigenous ancestral wisdom as “myth” while supplanting it with its triad of kyriarchy-approved Western surrogates: religion, philosophy, and the scientific method.
It is thus apparent that part of the decolonization physics necessarily involves intentionally cultivating wisdom among oppressed physicists and members of society. Equally important to the project of decolonizing physics is helping the privileged (read: white physicists) develop self-wisdom. The problem is that privileged physicists have no need for self-wisdom, since their actions (even adult temper tantrums) are condoned by the discipline and society. Lacking external impetus, self-wisdom is the only chance for privileged physicists to move beyond superficial allyship to decolonization: changing their characters and institutions to eliminate oppression and strengthen Indigenous stewardship of land and knowledge.
How do we cultivate wisdom in physics, when few physicists will admit they lack wisdom? As argued above, at least three factors are necessary for an oblivious person to develop wisdom: (1) a diversity of experiences and mentors, (2) humility, and (3) (usually painful) scenarios that “shock” people into developing wisdom. The first bullet is easiest to address – by cultivating greater diversity among physicists, and encouraging physicists to live more balanced lives outside the laboratory, we can begin to increase exposure to wisdom and enable consciousness-raising among marginalized people. The third bullet can be addressed by pointed denunciation of oppressive behavior (notice how many physicists “woke up,” at least temporarily, after the physics community rejected the sexist talk that rocked the CERN community).
The second bullet remains the tricky one. How can we convince those who lack humility to adopt a painfully-acquired character trait they have no extrinsic need for? In the spirit of cultivating this trait in myself, I’ll be the first to admit I have more or less no idea where to start.
