The Vanity of Understanding: Curiosity as Vice in Thomas Aquinas
In our post-enlightenment age, curiosity is widely regarded as a cardinal intellectual virtue. It is often seen as a driving force of technological innovation and understanding of the natural world. It is thus unsurprising that modern readers find Aquinas’s characterization of curiosity as a vice in the Summa Theologica perplexing. Should we not desire to understand all we can about the world around us? Indeed, Aquinas himself quotes Isaiah 11:2 in affirming that knowledge is a gift from the Holy Spirit.[1] How, then, can curiosity be a vice? Aquinas approaches this issue by affirming that while the knowledge of truth is intrinsically good, it can be evil accidentally.[2] He mentions four ways that the pursuit of knowledge can take on a vicious character, and each are worthy of thoughtful consideration. In this article, I will explain the four ways that Aquinas believes the pursuit of knowledge can become disordered, as well as illustrate their relevance in contemporary contexts.
The first way the pursuit of knowledge can be evil is if it is done for the purpose of taking pride in one’s knowledge. Aquinas recognized the complexity of human affections, and one of his most profound insights is that virtues and vices are interrelated. For example, those who are well inclined to pursue knowledge often develop a tendency to esteem themselves more highly than others. Many of the Church Fathers seemed to think that this was a significant issue, particularly among the ancient astronomers. Aquinas cites Jerome who claims that “the student of natural science whose gaze pierces the heavens, walks in vanity of understanding and darkness of mind.”[3] Augustine is cited making a similar claim, saying of the astronomers “that one would think they dwelt in the very heavens about which they argue.”[4] This abuse of the pursuit of knowledge is not limited to the ancients. This same tendency seems to commonly manifest itself in social media interactions. Speaking as someone who occasionally engages in online theological “discussions,” there is an ever-present temptation to gain knowledge purely for the sake of rhetorical dominance. Often our pursuit of knowledge becomes a means of demonstrating our intellectual superiority rather than mutual edification. The information we glean from these debates is often helpful; however, Aquinas’s point is that the pursuit of knowledge motivated by pride retains the character of vice.
The second way that the pursuit of knowledge can become sinful is “when a man is withdrawn by a less profitable study from a study that is an obligation incumbent on him.”[5] This species of curiosity is particularly prevalent in our day and age. As with the example above, the internet enables us to indulge our curious tendencies on a scale that is unparalleled in human history. Not only does it grant access to an unprecedented wealth of human knowledge, but social media algorithms, designed to maximize user engagement, curate content that caters precisely to individual preferences. This content is usually not particularly edifying; be it interpersonal drama, entertainment news, or trivial internet stories, the kind of information we consume on social media is almost always less profitable than knowledge we might otherwise gain through a study of Scripture, theology, or learning a practical skill. Our various vocations obligate us to pursue specific kinds of knowledge. As Christians, we must have an adequate grasp of Scripture and Christian theology to “test everything” and “hold fast what is good.”[6] As parents, we must have the knowledge to “train up a child in the way he should go” with the promise that “even when he is old he will not depart from it.”[7] But before we are able to do these things, we must learn how to do them. When we pursue frivolous knowledge at the expense of pursuing the knowledge that allows us to faithfully fulfill our obligations, we sin in the way that Aquinas describes.
The third way that the pursuit of knowledge can become sinful is “when a man desires to know the truth about creatures, without referring his knowledge to its due end, namely, the knowledge of God.”[8] Though the pursuit of knowledge is an intrinsic human good in the sense that it is a good common to all mankind, even these intrinsic goods must be in proper relation to our chief and final end, which is unity with God. Anything that does not stand in proper relation to that end is futile. Applying this principle to the pursuit of knowledge, we must conclude that there is something intrinsically disordered about an exclusively secular education. The pursuit of knowledge should ultimately lead us to learn something about God himself. This is more evident in some disciplines than others; most Christians can appreciate how a study of the natural sciences leads us to a deeper understanding of the care and creativity of the creator, or how the Father’s providence and provisions can be seen through a study of history. What might be less obvious is that even fields such as mathematics can, and should, teach us something about the coherence and order of God’s nature. Many well-meaning Christians have bought into the so-called “myth of neutrality;” the idea that knowledge can be presented or pursued in a way that does not favor any particular worldview. This intentional divorce of God from the pursuit “objective facts” is disordered and is a manifestation of the vice that Aquinas describes here.
The final way the pursuit of knowledge can become sinful is “when a man studies to know the truth above the capacity of his own intelligence, since by so doing men easily fall into error.”[9] Aquinas’s practicality comes through clearly here: one way that a pursuit of knowledge can go wrong is if it is done in a way that is likely to produce false beliefs. Aquinas says very little about what this looks like, however this is a profound observation. It seems to me that there are at least two ways this can occur: the first is when man pursues knowledge that has not been revealed by God, either naturally or through Scripture. The Lutheran tradition is very comfortable with the idea that many of God’s judgements are entirely hidden from us. As Gerhard says, “We readily concede that the Lord’s judgments are a great abyss and say with the apostle: ‘How unsearchable are the judgments of God and how inscrutable are His ways.’(Romans 11:33)”[10] When man attempts to pursue knowledge that God has providentially hidden, he sins. Not only is it an attempt to subvert God’s intentional lack of revelation, but because we have no epistemic access to this knowledge, “men easily fall into error” when hidden knowledge is pursued.[11] In other words, our theological speculations about things not revealed will often lead us to the wrong conclusions.
The second way that we can fall into this error is when we pursue knowledge that is above the capacity of our own ability. This is a less obvious error, but no less significant. There are topics that I ought to refrain from studying because they surpass my capacity to adequately understand them. For example, because I have never taken a college-level physics course, I am not equipped to begin a study on the accuracy of radiometric dating methods. I lack knowledge of the fundamental principles on which such techniques rely. In Aquinas’s words, because that topic surpasses my ability to understand it, I would “easily fall into error” without the prerequisite education. There is a tendency among some Christian leaders to speak authoritatively on scientific matters when questions about the relationship between Scripture and science arise, even if they are ill equipped to comprehend scientific concepts with sufficient clarity. This tendency should be avoided. It is important, for the sake of avoiding error, that we recognize our own intellectual limitations, and not speak authoritatively on subjects that surpass our capacity to comprehend. This is one of the reasons why the church desperately needs experts of all disciplines.
There is much more than could be said about each of these species of curiosity, and the points above only scratch the surface of Aquinas’s insights on this vice.[12] His work on moral philosophy has much to offer the modern reader; it is eminently practical and touches on specific tendencies we struggle with today, as I have tried to show above. My hope is that this brief overview helps inspire a renewed interest in Aquinas’s moral philosophy, particularly among Lutherans. He has much to teach us!
If you would like to read Aquinas’s treatise on Curiosity in its entirety, it can be accessed online here.
[1] Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, II-II, Q. 9, A. 1.
[2] ST, II-II, Q. 167, A.1.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Ibid.
[6] 1 Thessalonians 5:21
[7] Proverbs 22:6
[8] ST, II-II, Q. 167, A.1.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Johann Gerhard, On the Nature of God and on the Most Holy Mystery of the Trinity, ed. Benjamin T. G. Mayes, trans. Richard J. Dinda, Theological Commonplaces (St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 2007), 240.
[11] ST, II-II, Q. 167, A.1.
[12] See, for instance, how Aquinas relates curiosity and Lust in ST II-II, Q167, A2.