The State of the American Mind is a recently released collection of essays, edited by Mark Bauerlein and Adam Bellow, on modern intellectualism, particularly as it has become defined in relationship to previous versions. Following in the tradition of Allan Bloom’s bestseller from the mid-1980s, The Closing of the American Mind, the book continues with the complicated proposition that political philosophy and social change are actually rooted in intellectual and cultural evolution, and often to America’s detriment. (Bauerlein and Bellow’s book is much more enjoyable to read, by the way.) The fundamentals of our culture, that defined and unified the American experience for hundreds of years, have deteriorated, these authors claim, leaving us adrift as intellectuals and as citizens. If we don’t have vital sets of knowledge in common, and instead privilege a relativism of individualized beliefs and diverse preferences that can fluctuate like frivolous fads, then how can our nation grow together? When we decided to “cherish the pluribus and abandon the unum,” these authors contend, “the American Mind was one of the casualties.”
The editors have divided the book into three sections, each tackling the weakening of American intelligence and values in slightly different ways. Part One includes essays on the decline of cultural IQ, the failures of today’s universities, the lack of writing and thinking skills, and other areas in which Americans’ mental skills seem to lag. Part Two approaches personality and behavior through the examination of personal narcissism, cultural impatience, and news avoidance. Part Three puts the previous sections into broader contexts and highlights their implications for American civic engagement. Voter participation decline, entitlement dependency, and the weakening of higher education are a few key themes.
But these broad strokes only scratch the surface. These engaging and thoroughly documented essays prompt serious questions regarding our intellectual future. Gerald Graff's essay (which provides this month's homepage quote) is a powerful indictment of students' writing skills; yet, he offers a valuable solution for improving technique both in the classroom and beyond. A piece by psychology professor Jean Twenge (author of the excellent book on youth culture, Generation Me) discusses our cultural fascination with ourselves and our diminishing engagement with others. Our grades are inflated, along with our egos, she writes, producing “a generation of youths absorbed by personal concerns and lacking the objectivity to judge their actions and talents constructively.” An extension of this argument is offered in a piece titled “We Live in the Age of Feelings,” in which the author decries our loss of logic in the positions we hold and our ease with which we become offended at the slightest disagreement. These problems then show up in our schools, as chapters by Richard Arum, Greg Lukianoff, and E.D. Hirsh Jr. demonstrate, and in our civic engagement, as indicated by David T.Z. Mindich and Ilya Somin.
Essays by Maggie Jackson and Steve Wasserman describe our collective inability to focus on topics long enough to appreciate, understand, and critique them. In an age of instant expertise, we have increased our opportunities for analysis and judgment and avenues for their proliferation, but we have not devoted the requisite time such opinions demand in order to truly further the culture.
There are some challenging pieces in this book with ideas that many may not want to acknowledge. But I believe that is the point of such a collection: intellectualism, and its rigorous engagement of ideas, requires an openness to take in other perspectives. And it is this openness—in this age of “tolerance,” “diversity,” and other shaky buzzwords, as irony would have it—that has been lost. Simultaneously, however, there must also be a consistency, a level ground upon which we may gain our footing and use as a point of reference, for exploring cultural critique. While some may view this perspective as overly traditional or even curmudgeonly, there is a valuable point to be made here. For if we can’t agree on something fundamental, why should we agree on anything in the future? This essay collection is definitely worth your time if you are interested in academia, sociopolitical ideas, or the evolution of culture. Bauerlein and Bellow’s book will definitely be one of my must-read recommendations this year.
The editors have divided the book into three sections, each tackling the weakening of American intelligence and values in slightly different ways. Part One includes essays on the decline of cultural IQ, the failures of today’s universities, the lack of writing and thinking skills, and other areas in which Americans’ mental skills seem to lag. Part Two approaches personality and behavior through the examination of personal narcissism, cultural impatience, and news avoidance. Part Three puts the previous sections into broader contexts and highlights their implications for American civic engagement. Voter participation decline, entitlement dependency, and the weakening of higher education are a few key themes.
But these broad strokes only scratch the surface. These engaging and thoroughly documented essays prompt serious questions regarding our intellectual future. Gerald Graff's essay (which provides this month's homepage quote) is a powerful indictment of students' writing skills; yet, he offers a valuable solution for improving technique both in the classroom and beyond. A piece by psychology professor Jean Twenge (author of the excellent book on youth culture, Generation Me) discusses our cultural fascination with ourselves and our diminishing engagement with others. Our grades are inflated, along with our egos, she writes, producing “a generation of youths absorbed by personal concerns and lacking the objectivity to judge their actions and talents constructively.” An extension of this argument is offered in a piece titled “We Live in the Age of Feelings,” in which the author decries our loss of logic in the positions we hold and our ease with which we become offended at the slightest disagreement. These problems then show up in our schools, as chapters by Richard Arum, Greg Lukianoff, and E.D. Hirsh Jr. demonstrate, and in our civic engagement, as indicated by David T.Z. Mindich and Ilya Somin.
Essays by Maggie Jackson and Steve Wasserman describe our collective inability to focus on topics long enough to appreciate, understand, and critique them. In an age of instant expertise, we have increased our opportunities for analysis and judgment and avenues for their proliferation, but we have not devoted the requisite time such opinions demand in order to truly further the culture.
There are some challenging pieces in this book with ideas that many may not want to acknowledge. But I believe that is the point of such a collection: intellectualism, and its rigorous engagement of ideas, requires an openness to take in other perspectives. And it is this openness—in this age of “tolerance,” “diversity,” and other shaky buzzwords, as irony would have it—that has been lost. Simultaneously, however, there must also be a consistency, a level ground upon which we may gain our footing and use as a point of reference, for exploring cultural critique. While some may view this perspective as overly traditional or even curmudgeonly, there is a valuable point to be made here. For if we can’t agree on something fundamental, why should we agree on anything in the future? This essay collection is definitely worth your time if you are interested in academia, sociopolitical ideas, or the evolution of culture. Bauerlein and Bellow’s book will definitely be one of my must-read recommendations this year.