The Epistemic Value of Tradition

As shocking as it may be, I do not consider tradition to be a valid source of knowledge. In addition, I find that apologists are (often) putting their tradition ahead of the truth. If one already has in mind what one wants to find, and one finds it, where is the truth-seeking? I seek truth because I do not have it; I love wisdom because I lack it. If reason cannot challenge the very core of my being, then of what use is it? It would be deceitful, giving the illusion of a bulwark against unbelief while only justifying me in my unjustified opinions.

But, at the same time, we are human. We are actually embedded in contexts, and we actually pursue our pursuits because of our interests. We rejoice when we find what we wanted, and this seems good to us. Moreover, what would we have without traditions? What could we possibly seek? Is it not gratifying to work through the thought of some great thinker, following in their footsteps? How else would we learn?

In order to separate these elements of tradition, I will look at it as (1) the efficient cause of our knowledge, and (2) as the formal and material cause. Keeping with the Aristotelian-esque analysis, I will close on (3) tradition as final cause, on our reformulation of tradition for others. By tradition I mean any sort of knowledge that is handed down between people, purely with respect to its character as testimony.

Tradition as the efficient cause of our knowledge is what I have problems with. By this, I mean the way in which we accept what traditions teach simply with respect to them being traditions, and so in a way the tradition is an external cause of our knowledge. This is not just grand traditions, like Catholicism, but the various things that we pick up from our parents or pastors. But insofar as it is simply tradition, it does not justify our knowledge. People hand down knowledge all the time in many contradictory ways, and they can't all be right. The means of knowledge is therefore unreliable. One could point out the trustworthiness of particular individuals, or particular methods but then one is seeking other justification than the fact that something has been handed down. In addition, if these personal characteristics or methods are widespread and yet lead to contradictory results, then they too are suspect.

The problem is further compounded by the fact that, in any chain of transmission, there have likely been not-so-great transmitters. Even with insightful, honest people, a game of telephone can ensue; add in a couple idiots and scoundrels, and the damage would be irreparable. Aquinas may have been a great thinker, but his transmission of Christianity is only as good as what has been given them by others. As a philosopher, then, Aquinas is worthwhile; as an apologist, however, he is limited by his traditional prejudices (which is to say, almost worthless for truth, though useful in the game of power between ideologies).

However, tradition as the material and formal cause of our knowledge is indispensable. By, I mean the more internal effect tradition has on our knowledge, as providing content and structure without regard to our acceptance of its truth. We cannot have answers without questions, and we must learn from others before we ourselves approach the truly difficult and worthwhile issues. We must learn from others what the worthwhile issues actually are. Even if the judgment of others is less than perfect on these matters, it still gives us a starting point. Modern science may be far superior to that of the Renaissance, let alone thinkers like Grosseteste, Philoponous, and Aristotle, but all of these thinkers found something worthwhile in their own explorations. Without their ruminations on the nature of things like matter and motion, there would be no contemporary science, even if they had to be superseded.

It is for this reason that I can approach Christian thinkers even after leaving the faith, or those from Hindu and Muslim traditions whose faith I never held. These are good thinkers, if considered as thinkers and not as merely bearers of the tradition. One can learn from Aquinas, from Scotus, from Avicenna and Al-Farabi and Shankara, from the way in which they approached life within their own contexts. One need not look to them for their testimony to their own traditions to use what they have provided, and one will be richer for any study of these thinkers.

Finally, there is the matter of what we do with our own understanding. We will pass it on to others, whether we like it or not. We have no choice but to shape children, students, congregations, and friends by our own rumination on life. On the one hand, this is a tremendous good. We can provide the conditions for other people to think about the world, with which to furnish their own narratives if they choose. Surely this is better than not providing for the thought-life of others. At the same time, we are not perfect transmitters either, and will most likely introduce problems and falsehoods to others, perhaps even life-destroying ones.

What is to be done, then? To the extent that others have a critical spirit (perhaps by our own influence), they may leave behind the good in the tradition because of the bad, and be impoverished. They in turn will impoverish others. To the extent that others are naively accepting, they may take in the bad along with the good, and in turn propagate these deforming errors. The "internal" and "external" causes of our understanding are not, in the end, separable, or perhaps even distinct. It seems to me that there is no solution to this problem, but merely a recognition that we must walk on this balance beam, sometimes trembling, sometimes calm, and acknowledge that we can do nothing other than be imperfect.