{"id":39,"date":"2009-10-26T20:44:24","date_gmt":"2009-10-26T20:44:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wp.stolaf.edu\/pbk\/index-6\/james_m_may\/"},"modified":"2013-06-25T14:59:17","modified_gmt":"2013-06-25T19:59:17","slug":"james_m_may","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/wp.stolaf.edu\/pbk\/speeches\/james_m_may\/","title":{"rendered":"James M May"},"content":{"rendered":"<div data-modular-content-collection><div id=\"content\">&#013;<br \/>\n      <!--#include virtual=\"..\/system\/nav.inc\" -->&#013;<br \/>\n        <!--#include virtual=\"..\/system\/contact.inc\" -->&#013;<\/p>\n<div id=\"single\"> <!-- #BeginEditable \"SingleColumnContent\" -->&#013;<\/p>\n<h3>Speech by James M. May<\/h3>\n<p>&#013;<\/p>\n<p> On April 24, 2003, at the banquet following the spring initiation,  James M. May, Professor of Classics, Provost and Dean of St. Olaf  College, delivered the following speech: <\/p>\n<p><strong>\u201cLove of Wisdom the Guide of Life\u201d<\/strong> <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              Members of Phi Beta Kappa, old and new, parents, relatives, and friends: <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              I am honored to stand before you this evening as the speaker on  the occasion of our annual spring initiation and banquet. My first  order of business is, of course, to congratulate all those who have  been newly inducted into Phi Beta Kappa. Your academic achievements do,  indeed, precede you, and you should be rightly proud of the work you  have done and the esteem in which your teachers and peers hold you. To  be sure, there is a tremendous amount of brain power collected between  these walls at this moment; but as every person in this room knows,  that\u2019s only a small part of it\u2014if we calculated the number of hours  spent in study and hard work over the past four year by these  initiates, not to mention the gallons of sweat poured out in that  study, the results would seem even more impressive. The recognition  that membership in Phi Beta Kappa brings, perhaps the highest and most  visible recognition of academic achievement that an undergraduate  student can receive, has been hard earned and is certainly well  deserved. My prayer for you today is that you will continue, throughout  your lives, to use that same combination of God-given intellectual  ability, along with your incredible discipline and dedication, to  garner honors and glory throughout your entire lifetimes\u2014not only for  yourselves, but more importantly for your fellow-human beings and the  communities in which you live. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              Indeed, the honor of being a member of this Society will, at least  to some degree, persist throughout your lives. People have always been  exceptionally proud to include \u201cMembership in Phi Beta Kappa\u201d as line  on their resumes or CVs, and graduate\/professional schools or potential  employers have always been equally impressed to read it there. But this  honor, like any and all others we might receive, will have proved empty  and hollow if we do not continue to cultivate the ideals, the  strengths, and virtues that enabled us to achieve it in the first  place. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              With this thought in mind, during the few minutes I have with you  this evening, I would like to call us all to a consideration of the  very name of the society, Phi Beta Kappa. It\u2019s a strange name, to be  sure, consisting of three letters of the Greek alphabet, an acronym of  sorts\u2014we\u2019ve come to use them all the time; HUD, FICA, NEH, RPC\u2014standing  for three Greek words: <em>philosophia<\/em>, <em>biou<\/em>, and <em>kubernetes <\/em>.  If you were listening carefully during the initiation while our  secretary read the history of the society, you learned how and by whom  these words, this motto, was chosen. One of my favorite passages from  our initiation ritual bears repeating: \u201cOn December 5, 1776, a group of  young men, students at the College of William and Mary in Virginia,  meeting in the Apollo Room of the Raleigh Tavern, Williamsburg, formed  the Phi Beta Kappa Society, which they dedicated to high purposes, with  eighteenth century eloquence.\u201d Indeed, much of the source of those 18th  century high purposes and eloquence must have stemmed from these  students\u2019 immersion in the Greek and Roman classics, that course of  study which marked all higher education at the time, as it had for  literally centuries before. So, these young men, sitting in a tavern,  not really unlike the Rueb-N-Stein, probably drinking something  slightly stronger than our iced-tea and lemonade, in a room aptly named  for the Greek god of the sun, of poetry, of prophecy, and of healing,  were thinking on high purposes in the midst of the war with England,  five months after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. They  chose the motto of their society, <em>Philosophia Biou Kubernetes<\/em>,  and, at that time, kept it a secret by using the initial letters of  these three Greek words, a practice that subsequently spread widely  among many other honor societies, as well as social fraternities and  sororities. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              But the motto itself is what concerns me here. <em>Philosophia<\/em> is, of course, the Greek word of which our word \u201cphilosophy\u201d is a  direct transliteration. Narrowly speaking, for the ancients the study  of philosophy included three branches or areas: dialectic, the practice  of discussing and debating an issue on several sides until clarity  about it emerged; natural philosophy, which entailed an investigation  into nature and the cosmos, its causes and the laws for its operation;  and ethics, the study of human character and moral behavior. The modern  discipline of philosophy has, of course, evolved from this notion, and  though perhaps it would have behooved all of us to have majored in  philosophy, this specialized sense of the term was certainly not what  the founders had in mind in their choice of the word (at least  exclusively). Now all you science majors out there can gasp a sigh of  relief!! In its root sense, <em>philosophia<\/em> literally means \u201clove of wisdom\u201d (<em>sophia<\/em>),  and presently I will return to what I believe this wisdom and such a  love of wisdom meant to the Greeks and Romans, as well as to the young  men sitting in the Apollo room on that December morn in 1776. <\/p>\n<p><em>Biou<\/em> is the genitive form of the word <em>bios<\/em>, \u201clife,\u201d  or more properly \u201cmode of life,\u201d in English. Obviously it is the Greek  root from which our words \u201cbiology,\u201d \u201cbiodegradable,\u201d \u201cbiosphere,\u201d and  \u201cbioethics\u201d are formed. The third word of the motto, <em>kubernetes<\/em>, is a fascinating one.  In Greek it signifies \u201cthe pilot of a ship, a helmsman, a guide.\u201d  Its Latin manifestation is <em>gubernator<\/em>,  essentially the same word, as you can hear, from which we derive our  word \u201cgubernatorial,\u201d and ultimately \u201cgovernor,\u201d i.e., one who guides,  governs, or controls. As my colleague Ralph Hexter, classicist and Dean  of Humanities at Berkeley, has pointed out, the root of <em>kubernetes<\/em> also forms the Greek word <em>kubernetike<\/em>,  \u201ca rare word, but used by no less a writer than Plato, and revived in  our century to describe the science of guiding, governing, controlling  by certain machines that would soon come universally to be known as  computers.\u201d* Cybernetics\u2014but that\u2019s the subject of another talk! <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              So, taking it as a whole, we have a motto that can be translated,  \u201cLove of Wisdom the Guide\/Helmsman\/Pilot of Life.\u201d Obviously the  metaphor at work, commonly employed in many ancient Greek contexts as  well as here by our founders, is that of the ship being steered or  guided by the skillful pilot. For us, the metaphor is, perhaps,  somewhat hackneyed, or even dead. Indeed, with the development of radar  and sophisticated GPS, navigating the ocean in a vessel doesn\u2019t seem to  present the challenges or grave dangers that it once did. But imagine  for a moment the difficulty of operating a ship in ancient Greek times,  or for that matter in the 18th century, across the vast ocean in the  midst of so many hazards and dangers; the skilled pilot was worth his  weight in gold! So, the love of wisdom, i.e., philosophy, should be for  us our pilot, helmsman, or guide in life. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              Well, even you philosophy majors out there might be wondering how \u201clove of wisdom\u201d might <em>practically<\/em> serve as your guide of life.  I believe the answer lies in our understanding of the notion of <em>sophia<\/em> or \u201cwisdom\u201d contained in the word philosophia or \u201clove of wisdom.\u201d Our  founders, being good classicists, had not only studied Greek, but also  Latin; as such, they provided a Latin acronym for the society as well,  SP, which stands for the motto, <em>Societas Philosophiae<\/em>, or  \u201cSociety or Fellowship of\/for Philosophy.\u201d Our initiation ritual,  somewhat surprisingly, translates this phrase as \u201cThe Fellowship of  Learning,\u201d and in this regard, though not a literal translation, is  certainly very close to what I believe is the intended meaning. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              You see, even before the time of Plato, wise men called \u201csophists\u201c  emerged in the Greek world and offered their services for pay. Chief  among their teaching goals was to educate fellow citizens in how to  become effective speakers before the courts and in the assembly. As  this discipline of rhetoric continued to develop, handbooks were  written that contained the rules for composing effective speeches, and  these became a staple of rhetorical education. Others, who championed  the role of dialectic and ethics over effective verbal persuasion saw  these teachers of rhetoric as peddlers of deceit, striving in some  cases to make the worse seem the better cause. Hence, from these early  beginnings of the two disciplines of rhetoric and philosophy, a quarrel  arose between them that stood as a constant backdrop to the ancient  intellectual scene, sometimes more important, sometimes less so,  throughout most of antiquity. The terms \u201celoquence\u201d and \u201cwisdom\u201d serve  in this debate, more or less, as emblems for two competing educational  theories. The question is whether people who are being groomed for  service to the community should be trained in a narrow, technical sort  of way, allowing their own experience and the experience of others,  along with the mere acquisition of the rules for effective public  speaking, to serve as their intellectual basis (eloquence); or should  such leaders, in addition to the education that eloquence (i.e.,  rhetoric) affords, also be schooled in wisdom, which includes not only  philosophy proper, but all of what the ancients called the <em>artes liberales<\/em> or <em>artes ingenuae<\/em>, i.e., the liberal arts. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              Many throughout the ages tried to reconcile rhetoric and  philosophy, with varying degrees of success. Cicero, the great Roman  orator of the first century B.C., argued perhaps most effectively of  all (in his work <em>On the Ideal Orator<\/em>) for a bond that linked  both eloquence and wisdom (rhetoric and philosophy), insisting that his  ideal orator, i.e., the ideal statesman and citizen, should be educated  not only in the technical aspects of persuasion (i.e., rhetoric), but  in the broader, noble arts (wisdom). Surprisingly, more than two  thousand years later, the same, basic quarrel exists. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              In certain ways, our world today couldn&#8217;t be further removed from  Cicero&#8217;s Rome; in other ways, however, things have remained remarkably  the same. Although the legacy of antiquity in terms of the liberal arts  has been filtered, refined, changed, and dogmatized by many events and  many institutions, I would submit that certain aspects of Cicero&#8217;s  ideal, and certainly the debate between the educational theories  emblematized by the quarrel between wisdom and eloquence are with us  still today and inform our own discussions (whether knowingly or  otherwise). <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              At St. Olaf College, for example, we boast of offering an  education based on the liberal arts, and in doing so and in recognizing  that \u201clife is more than a livelihood,\u201d we claim to focus on \u201cwhat is  ultimately worthwhile and fosters the development of the whole person  in mind, body, and spirit\u201d (St. Olaf Mission Statement). Cicero&#8217;s  insistence that eloquence be combined with wisdom or that wisdom be  combined with eloquence is, in fact, the basis of our approach to  education&#8211;in other words, we are dedicated to graduating students in  the mold of Cicero&#8217;s ideal orator. As a traditional liberal arts  program, we reject the narrow technical training that would enable  students to pursue a career, but in what we believe would be a much  less satisfying and incomplete way. For example, students wishing to  become nurses or musicians could simply enroll in a nurses&#8217; training  program or in a conservatory; and, to be sure, they might become  excellent nurses or musicians <em>per se<\/em>. But that&#8217;s not really  good enough according to this way of thinking: we want nurses and  musicians who, like Cicero&#8217;s ideal orator, are not only trained  excellently in their own specialties, but who have the broad wisdom  offered by liberal studies, wisdom that will inform their own  specialties in ways far beyond technical competency. This is the kind  of education, the kind of wisdom to which St. Olaf aspires, and indeed,  although we are sometimes buffeted by the demands of the marketplace  and other such forces, and have at times even made modest concessions,  we remain, I believe, firmly committed to an educational philosophy  that insists that \u201cwisdom\u201d must accompany our several forms of  \u201celoquence.\u201d This too is the kind of \u201cwisdom\u201d that the founders of Phi  Beta Kappa envisioned as serving as their guide of life. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n              In a very short time, most of you in this room will be headed off  to pursue some sort of graduate or professional training, a training  that will be intense, focused, and generally narrow in its scope. This  is a good thing: you must become \u201celoquent\u201d in your respective areas of  specialization. But in the midst of that study, and in subsequent  years, I beg you to recall and to cultivate the wisdom of the noble,  liberal arts, the foundation of which you have received at St. Olaf  College. This is the wisdom writ large that is spoken of in the motto  of Phi Beta Kappa; a capacious wisdom that will continue to cultivate a  sense of wonder and inquiry for your entire life; an expansive wisdom  that will inform your area of eloquence or specialty in countless  fruitful ways; a wisdom that will benefit not only you and yours  directly, but your fellow-citizens and your entire community. Put love  of this kind of wisdom in the driver\u2019s seat; let the hand of this kind  of wisdom steer the vessel in which you take your life\u2019s voyage. If you  do, I can guarantee you at least one thing: it will be one heck of a  trip! <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n        *Ralph J. Hexter, \u201cThe Consolation of Philosophy,\u201d Initiation  Address to the Alpha of California Chapter, University of California,  Berkeley, April 22, 1999. <\/p>\n<p>&#013;<br \/>\n          <!-- #EndEditable --> <\/div>\n<p>&#013;\n    <\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&#013; &#013; &#013; &#013; Speech by James M. May &#013; On April 24, 2003, at the banquet following the spring initiation, James M. 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