Wisdom in the Age of Information
“When arrogance comes, disgrace follows, but with humility comes wisdom” Prov. 11:2
One of the most important questions facing us right now is one of how our beliefs are formed. How do we process information, and what are the means by which humans learn and grow? Right now one could argue there’s more conflict, confusion and discord than ever, both in the Church and in the world at large. Much of this conflict comes from the development of different and sometimes opposing understandings of reality, which often boils down to divergent approaches to new information.
There’s some disagreement over whether or not we’re still living in the Information Age. Some say we’ve entered a new era. Whether we have or not, there’s no denying the lasting impact of information itself becoming as ubiquitous as water in the ocean. So what is the path to wisdom? I’ve seen multiple pathways emerge, and there are two I want to focus on.
One path is to take in all the available information on any given topic, synthesize it and process it until we can reach the best possible conclusion. It is sensible to learn what we can about topics that concern us. The ability to read, listen and think critically are gifts, and ones that we ought to take advantage of. But there are limits to the goodness of this relatively new ease of access and pervasiveness of ideas. One of the problems with this path is that new information appears at a breakneck pace. The accessibility of information has never been greater, and all the world's knowledge is now at our fingertips. Depending on the topic, we could spend hours or days researching, only to pick it up again the following week and find the situation has changed. If our desire is to use information as a security blanket or a shield, our goal will be to acquire every last piece of available data before we can reach any decision or take any action. One danger those who take this path face is that the work will likely never end. We will never be able to rest, and we’ll never be content that we have enough knowledge to go on. And in the meantime, we’ll have busied ourselves constructing a sort of Tower of Informational Babel by which we hope to achieve a type of salvation.
Unlimited information carries with it a temptation to believe that if we simply know enough, we can overcome any obstacle. Additionally, having access to the entirety of human thought on billions of topics can breed in us a false sense of expertise that both inflates our sense of control and also ends up devaluing the true experts on any given subject. The Proverbial wisdom touting an abundance of counselors necessarily implies that we believe in the existence of those with something unique to offer us. And wisdom isn’t simply the accumulation of knowledge, but something more than the sum of its parts. As Hannah Anderson illustrates in her book All That’s Good, the ability to watch a youtube video on how to change the oil in my car doesn’t make me a mechanic. Having access to information doesn’t ensure that I know how to properly wield it. Acquiring the knowledge of others doesn’t ensure my safety, success or even morality. It’s ability to save is limited.
One extreme alternative to overvaluing simple accumulation of knowledge is to refuse to consider new information. Given the vast amount of new data appearing minute by minute and the potential for overwhelm, this is a tempting choice. It’s far easier to shut out the noise altogether and stick with what we know. And to be fair, at times that’s exactly what we ought to do. We are finite creatures and we can’t possibly hold all the world’s knowledge in our limited brains. We have access to more than we can possibly process, and our humanness contains good and necessary limits. However, while our Bible is completely true, it doesn’t contain the entirety of truth. It doesn’t tell us anything about where to buy groceries, how to drive a car or the history of America. There is much that applies to our current lives and contexts that we will not find in its pages. To shut our eyes and ears to the world around us is to cut ourselves off from understanding both our own influences and the neighbors we're meant to love. If we fail to recognize our existence within a particular context, we’ll stifle our growth.
I want to suggest a third way. It’s the choice that requires more discipline, more humility and most importantly, a moment by moment dependence on the guidance of the Holy Spirit. It’s a determined acknowledgment that we are human, and by definition we have need of God. It’s comforting in some ways to believe we can finally solve all of our problems simply by getting all the facts. And conversely it’s less demanding to wear blinders to anything that conflicts with our opinions or makes us uncomfortable. Both of these approaches, it turns out, are outworkings of pride. One way is pride in our ability to gather enough information to meet all our goals; the other is pride in being convinced that we already know everything we need to know. Neither of these postures encourages us to participate with the Holy Spirit in our sanctification and growth by taking our questions and our confusions to the Lord with humble reliance on His wisdom. We can trust that although we can never be omniscient, He always has been and always will be. And in that we can rest, knowing that the final outcome of our efforts does not depend on us, but on His goodness and grace. And on the other hand, we can see challenges to our understanding of the world not as attacks, but rather as invitations to recommit ourselves to the ways of Jesus. We can open ourselves up to loving Him and others in new and greater ways.
Photo by Jessica Delp on Unsplash