My Faust problem

Evanston RoundTable, June 13, 2024

I’m obsessed with knowledge. I want to know everything.

Well, not everything, of course; that would be impossible, but the big things: quantum physics and ancient history and microeconomics and the best chess openings … all the stuff I didn’t get around to studying in school because I was too lazy or preoccupied with other, more important, stuff, like getting a date.

Things like: Who invented the vacuum cleaner? What’s the slash line in baseball? Where does the universe end and what’s on the other side? And how come we don’t sneeze in our sleep? Questions profound, intriguing and stupid.

But this quest is obviously problematic. For one thing, there’s an almost infinite number of big things to know and very limited time – a lifetime – to get to know them.

For another, who am I to play God? Because only God can know everything.

And the challenge takes on different perspectives depending on one’s stage of life. Young folks have a seemingly endless horizon for learning. They can hardly imagine a time when there’s little time left. But we oldsters can see the horizon approaching. We are time-limited for understanding.

Goethe’s story

Knowing everything was the obsession of the fictional Dr. Faust, who made his debut in the play Faust, A Tragedy, written by the German philosopher and author Johann Wolfgang von Goethe in 1800. A second play, Faust Part Two, was published in 1832.

In the story, Satan lures the scholar Faust with an offer he can’t refuse: total knowledge in this life for his eternal soul in the next. Faust agrees and, well, I don’t want to spoil the plot (which is pretty convoluted – it takes almost 14 minutes in this description), but let’s say things don’t always go well.

This theme has a natural appeal to creative types, who make a kind of Faustian bargain themselves, sacrificing everything to create their magic world of make believe. The Faust story has inspired at least three operas, more than a dozen movies, numerous books, symphonies and other orchestral works, ballets, games, comics, even a musical by Randy Newman.

I’m not planning a pact with the devil, but still, the world is so confusing and complex that any guidance is welcome. Herewith my plain-and-simple approach to acquiring more knowledge:

1. Read like crazy. The Evanston Public Library has a collection of more than a million volumes, according to Wikipedia, “including books, DVDs, CDs, downloadable eBooks, audiobooks and films, and a small Library of Things.” And EPL has access to other suburban library systems as well.
2. Take lots of classes. School doesn’t end with high school or college. Northwestern University, Oakton College and New Trier Extension offer adult classes year-round. Northwestern offers OLLI, the OSHER Lifelong Learning Institute and the Alumnae of Northwestern University. You can search “adult education Evanston” for more.
3. Pay attention to others. This seems obvious, but nowadays people seem unwilling to challenge their firmly held (if sometimes misguided) opinions. But if someone knows more than you do – even if they’re on the “other side” of the political tracks – listen up: You can learn a lot that way. As the Greek philosopher Epictetus said, “We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.”
4. Use your phone. The smart phone’s access to the world’s knowledge is like Faust without the devil. (Some people would disagree.) Answers to almost every question abound.

That’s all well and good, and worth the effort. Knowing as much as we can is a worthy goal, even if, in the end, it’s fated to fail. The human brain is incapable of encompassing all but the tiniest portion of total knowledge. We’ll have to reconcile ourselves to being mostly ignorant.

But that’s OK. Acknowledging our limitations is the surest path to wisdom.