Why do we teach? For those of us involved in higher education, answers to this question are bound to vary. We may teach because we’re required to. Or because we desire to impart disciplinary knowledge and skills to our students. Or because we want to equip them for successful careers.
Our reasons for teaching may also have a more personal dimension. This dimension may be moral or civic in character: we may teach in order to help our students become good, caring, responsible neighbors or citizens. But it may also have a distinctively epistemic cast: we may teach in order to foster a “love of learning” or to help our students become “critical thinkers” or “lifelong learners.”
The latter aims, which are at once personal and epistemic, seem especially pressing in light of our current social and political context. The quantity of information available at our fingertips is staggering. Its quality is uneven and can be difficult to ascertain. Putative experts contradict each other. Public discourse is marked by polarization and tribalism. Trust in mainstream epistemic institutions is plummeting. While there is no single solution to this predicament, of considerable importance are the ways that we are inclined to act, think, and feel while undertaking epistemically-oriented activities such as seeking and evaluating information, asking questions, deferring to experts, and listening to opposing viewpoints. In short, our ability to negotiate the contemporary information landscape depends in no small part on the quality of our “intellectual character.”
Everyone has an intellectual character. Broadly speaking, your intellectual character consists of how you’re disposed to act, think, and feel in the context of information-seeking and knowledge-acquisition.[2] Are you curious? Do you enjoy learning? Can you think for yourself? Are you willing to listen openly to opposing viewpoints? Do you refrain from jumping to conclusions and making hasty generalizations? Are you willing to admit when your evidence is shaky or when one of your beliefs turns out to be mistaken? Do you persist in the face of intellectual struggle? Your answers to these questions say something about the quality of your intellectual character. They indicate whether or the extent to which you possess “intellectual virtues” such as curiosity, intellectual autonomy, open-mindedness, intellectual carefulness, intellectual humility, and intellectual tenacity.[3]
In my work with primary, secondary, and post-secondary educators, I’ve found that the language and concepts of intellectual character and intellectual virtues resonate deeply. They capture what many of us think education is for and the kind of impact we aim to have on our students.
Suppose that helping our students develop intellectual virtues is an important and timely educational aim. What might it look like to align our pedagogical priorities and practices with this aim? This is a question I’ve been pondering and writing about for over a decade. As the director of the Intellectual Virtues and Education Project, co-founder of the Intellectual Virtues Academy of Long Beach, in my scholarly work applying virtue epistemology to educational theory and practice, and in my hands-on work with classroom teachers across the globe, I’ve sought to better understand, articulate, and implement the “principles, postures, and practices” involved with educating for intellectual virtues. These findings are the focus of my recent book Deep in Thought: A Practical Guide to Teaching for Intellectual Virtues (Cambridge: Harvard Education Press, 2021). While the book is geared more toward secondary teachers, its guidance and recommendations are readily adaptable to many college and university settings.
Good teaching is and always has been personally transformative. It impacts students at the intersection of heart and mind, will and intellect, character and cognition. More than ever, the world needs graduates who are deeply curious, can form their own conclusions, admit their intellectual limitations and mistakes, listen openly to opposing views, and persevere in the quest for knowledge and understanding. When you think about your discipline, which intellectual virtues strike you as most important? Which of these virtues do you regularly model for your students? Do you provide your students with frequent opportunities to practice and grow in these virtues? Reflecting on these and related questions could inspire some useful adjustments to your teaching practices. It might also help you get back in touch with some of your deepest cares and concerns as an educator.
Footnotes
- The title of this post is taken from Linda Zagzebski’s groundbreaking philosophical work Virtues of the Mind (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996).
- For a discussion of the nature and importance of intellectual character, Jason Baehr, The Inquiring Mind: On Intellectual Virtues and Virtue Epistemology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011).
- For an excellent and accessible introduction to intellectual virtues, see Nathan Kings’s recent book The Excellent Mind (New York: Oxford University Press, 2021).
