On the Value of Received Tradition

I.

One of the foundational beliefs of rabbinic Judaism is that when God gave the Torah to Moses, it contained two components: the oral law and the written law. The written law is the biblical text of the Five Books of Moses of the Old Testament, and the oral law is an oral tradition, passed down from teacher to student, containing explanations of the written law as well as laws which were not included in the biblical text. It is the oral law which comprises the primary canonical document of rabbinic Judaism, the Talmud. Although the Talmud, having been written down, changed the dynamic nature of the student-teacher process of transmission, the Talmud is mostly a closed book to people who might try to study it on their own due to its difficult language, obscure references, and perplexing argumentative structure. Thus, although the flexible nature of an oral tradition of law was lost with the writing of the Talmud, there remained a strong need for young aspiring Talmudists to find themselves learned teachers.

There is another important role that oral tradition plays in rabbinic Judaism, namely as a verification of the national history of the Jewish people. The (orthodox) argument for the historicity of the events recorded in the Bible depends on the idea that the Jewish people kept a parent-to-child oral tradition about the major events discussed in the Bible, such as the Exodus and the receiving of the Torah. As the argument goes, the Jewish people thus have an oral tradition that independently verifies the text of the Bible. [This is the essence of the argument proposed by the Rabbi Yehuda Halevi in his work The Kuzari, written in 1140.]

It is therefore no surprise that when Jewish philosophers in the Rabbinic tradition (Maimonides, Luzzatto) write about epistemology, "received tradition" is afforded a high place in their epistemological frameworks. Oral traditions also play a strong role in Christianity and Islam and are an important component of the hierarchies of religious authority, especially in the early histories of those religions. Oral traditions give learned individuals a monopoly on the teachings of the religion, which ensures that religion doctrine and practice don't change with the whims of the masses.

In contrast, modern philosophers, such as Descartes and Hume, placed emphasis on empirical observation and reason. The emphasis on reason and empiricism also meant that the individual played a much stronger role in epistemology, expected to rely on his own senses and reasoning ability to come to true conclusions about the world. [This dovetails with ideas that were being formulated at around the same time placing the individual at the pinnacle of moral and political considerations.] In a simplified version of history, the philosophical breakthrough of emphasizing observation and reason over tradition is what led to modern science and the fall of religion, at least in terms of the standing of religion within philosophy. The narrative of rationalism and empiricism replacing tradition, heralding enlightenment, and building a brave new world is still a staple of contemporary secular thought, despite challenges being raised from both the right and the left. (See, for example, the debate about Stephen Pinker's recent book Enlightenment Now.)

II.

I came across an article by a journalist who attended a Flat-Earth convention. The author characterizes the conference attendees as follows:

...[F]lat earthers do seem to place a lot of emphasis and priority on scientific methods and, in particular, on observable facts. The weekend in no small part revolved around discussing and debating science, with lots of time spent running, planning, and reporting on the latest set of flat earth experiments and models. Indeed, as one presenter noted early on, flat earthers try to “look for multiple, verifiable evidence” and advised attendees to “always do your own research and accept you might be wrong”. 

The emphasis on individual reasoning and skepticism toward extant knowledge can also characterize a number of other anti-science movements that have crept up in the United States and around the world, such as climate change deniers and anti-vaccination activists. The curious thing about these movements is that they are prima facie doing exactly what Descartes and Hume would have wanted them to do: they are experimenting and thinking for themselves. So where did they go wrong?

As a graduate student in the hard sciences, I find myself in the position of observing firsthand how scientists actually work. And it turns out that received tradition plays a huge role in how science is conducted today, and without it the scientific enterprise would be doomed to fail.

Before beginning the research phase of their careers, most scientists attend graduate school to get up to speed on the current state of knowledge in the field. While flat-earthers might view graduate school (and perhaps school in general) as an indoctrination camp of sorts, what actually happens inside the classrooms are vigorous debates between professors and students (more often in seminars than courses, but in courses as well), tossing around ideas for experimental design, and explicit rejection of old theories in favor of recently published results. Scientific graduate school classrooms and seminars are among the most critical thinking-suffused spaces in the world. But there is still -  in most cases - a professor in the front of the classroom who generally has the final say.

 When a doctoral student begins to research a scientific topic, they choose an adviser who will mentor them for the duration of the doctoral research. The role of the adviser is to give guidance, assistance and  - of course - funding to the intrepid young researcher. Few professional scientists start their careers doing research independently; scientific careers almost always begin as apprenticeships under an accomplished scientist. There are a small number of genius-level individuals who don't take this route, but they are the exceptions that prove the rule.

In addition to the doctoral process itself, there is a general sense in which everyone doing science is a midget atop the shoulders of giants. Most scientific work, even groundbreaking, revolutionary findings, starts from things that people already know. All of us, from Nobel Prize winners to lowly graduate students, begins their papers with a literature review. The greatest faux pas that a scientist can make is to publish work that is rendered either trivial or incorrect by researchers who preceded him. I've personally witnessed situations where seasoned researchers have given uninformed talks outside of their field of expertise when an expert was sitting in the audience. The result is...not pretty. The zeroth step of the scientific method is "do your homework," and woe unto him who begins to experiment without reading the relevant literature.





I remember on the last day of one of our graduate courses, our professor sat us down and gave us advice for the beginnings of our scientific career. That advice? Have humility and listen to your advisers and senior graduate students. He didn't need to tell us to be creative, to think critically, to reject dogma -- we're graduate students, we already do that all the time. But the hard part of science often isn't the "think for yourself" part, it's the slog through the technicalities that your adviser and older graduates students have all experienced and know to anticipate. And if you don't listen to them, you're going to have a bad time.

Rabbi Chanina the son of Idi said: Why are the words of Torah compared to water, as it is written "Ho, all who are thirsty, go to the water" (Isaiah 55:1)? To teach you: just as water, when placed in a high place goes to a low place, so the words of Torah only exist in one whose temperament is humble. (Taanit 7a)

III. 

 There is sense in which intellectual traditions have worth beyond practical necessity. In academia, just like in the world of religious learning, the relationship between a teacher and student go beyond the purely functional. A graduate student at a respected institution of higher learning will often have instructors and research advisers who are renowned experts in their fields. Studying under and being mentored by a prominent scientist is a badge of honor for a student; having successful graduate students is a badge of honor for professors. There will occasionally be moments as a graduate student, - the "sitting at the feet of Moses at Sinai" moments -  when a professor is writing an equation on the board that he discovered, that you realize that you'll be able to tell your future students that Professor Y himself taught you that formula. The significance of the chain of knowledge from professor to students is evident in the existence of academic genealogy projects, where academics can trace their academic lineage through their adviser hundreds of years back in history to the founders of their field.

There are parallels to this phenomenon in the arts as well. In music, for example, most rock artists can trace their musical influences back to the very beginning of rock music, to bands like The Beatles and musicians like Jimi Hendrix. (Most rock bands probably claim direct influence from those early trailblazers, which you can do when everything is recorded.) Kirk Hammett, the lead guitarist of Metallica, was a student of Joe Satriani, who picked up a guitar (and went on to became a virtuoso) after hearing of the death of Hendrix, having been inspired by him (source).

Received tradition is also a very prominent part of the Asian martial arts. The movie Karate Kid did a good job of portraying this received tradition relationship between the wizened Japanese Karate instructor Mr. Miyagi, who teachers the young Daniel Larusso how to master Karate and helps him navigate the challenges in his personal life.  In the real world, the martial art of ninjutsu was popularized by an Israeli -- Dorron Navon and an American -- Stephen Hayes, who both studied under Dr. Masaaki Hatsumi, who is the 34th in a chain of grandmasters who passed down the tradition of Togakure-ryū ninjutsu from teacher to student since 1162. And we actually have a list of all the people in that chain. There is no doubt that the martial art has changed over the centuries, but all students of ninjutsu today are links in a chain of an unbroken tradition that is almost a millenium old. [Interestingly, Japan has a bunch of other professions that can trace themselves back for many generations, including a family-owned hotel that dates back 46 generations to the 8th century.]

In summary, chains of received tradition are not just functional in the sense of enabling the transmission of knowledge and skills; they can also provide a deep-rooted feeling of belonging to a system that spans past, present, and future. There is a certain lamentability to the fact that most industries in the modern world have little sense of history. I imagine it's easier to get up with a sense of purpose every morning as a worker in a 1300 year-old hotel passed from generation to generation than at an equivalent job at a Holiday Inn. In some ways, I wouldn't mind if our educational systems - including academia - emphasized this received tradition aspect a bit more. My experiences in the religious world and in martial arts world have taught me that there is a powerful value to the deep teacher-student relationships that are common in traditional frameworks. Like in Karate Kid, these relationships can go beyond the functional to the moral and "spiritual" (in the sense of personal character building) in a way that few other relationships can.

IV.

Maybe I've overstated my case. After all, the modern rationalist-empiricist epistemological view was an essential step in establishing a world where science became ascendant over religion and superstition. What is to prevent students of a received tradition from becoming blinded to errors made by their forbears and perpetuating incorrect and dangerous ideas? This is an especially critical question when it comes to religious traditions, traditions that have given rise to inquisitions, crusades, and holy wars.

Here, it is crucial to distinguish between traditions that are open to criticism and change and traditions that eschew any kind of reform. The scientific tradition is predicated on revolutionary discoveries overtaking accepted dogma. The artistic tradition celebrates those who break established forms and create something new and original. And even liberal religious traditions are open to ethical ideas from secular philosophies and the questioning of foundational beliefs.

The truly problematic traditions are those that refuse to engage with criticism or self-modify when an aspect of the tradition is convincingly demonstrated to be wrong (in the case of 'is' beliefs) or harmful (in the case of 'ought' claims). Fundamentalist religions tend to take an all-or-none approach to their beliefs - you either buy into everything or you're a heretic. Either you accept the Bible as true in its entirety or you're a non-believer. Either you accept all of the 13 doctrines of Maimonides or you are not Orthodox. Either you accept that homosexuality is an abomination in the eyes of God or you're an apostate. Fundamentalist religions also shun people who study outside sources of knowledge which have the potential to conflict with internal traditional views.

In healthy intellectual traditions, individuals are free to choose which parts of the tradition they wish to accept and which they wish to reject, and the tradition itself should be open to improvements made by the individual. Individuals should, of course, approach this task with humility, but ultimately the individual is expected to improve the tradition. If a martial arts master develops an effective new technique or discovers that a particular stance in ineffective in sparring, he is responsible for conveying that information to his students. If a mathematician discovers an error in a published proof, the mathematics community would hope that she makes that error known to the community so others do not build further theorems on faulty assumptions.

I am essentially arguing here that received traditions should operate as evolutionary processes. In evolution, you start out with the genetic material that is continually modified over time in a way that is adaptive to the environment. An evolutionary process that doesn't allow mutation -- stagnant, rigid traditions -- will never make it out of the primordial soup. At the same time, individuals who want to scrap all prior evolutionary progress and start from scratch -- the flat-earthers -- are also not going to make it very far.