Essays

in our rush toward the future, we have developed what c.s. lewis called " chronological snobbery "—the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate of our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is thereby discredited. this bias, while natural, represents one of the most dangerous forms of intellectual pride. the problem is not that we value progress or appreciate contemporary insights. the problem lies in our reflexive dismissal of older ideas based solely on their age. we treat intellectual history like a simple timeline of improvement, where each generation necessarily surpasses the last in wisdom and understanding. this linear view of progress owes much to enlightenment thinking and was reinforced by the rapid technological advances of the past two centuries. but intellectual development is not analogous to technological advancement. consider the realm of ethics. are we more virtuous than aristotle because we live 2,400 years later? have we solved the problems of justice more completely than plato? our moral insights may be different from theirs, informed by different experiences and contexts, but they are not automatically superior simply by virtue of chronological sequence. the danger becomes acute in academic disciplines where fashions change rapidly. a brilliant insight from 1950 may be ignored not because it has been refuted, but because it falls outside current scholarly trends. ⊕ thomas kuhn's work on paradigm shifts illustrates how scientific communities can become locked into particular ways of thinking, making older approaches invisible even when they retain value. we lose access to hard-won wisdom because it wears an unfashionable date. lewis himself experienced this transformation dramatically. before owen barfield challenged his chronological snobbery, lewis dismissed medieval and renaissance thought as primitive superstition. after overcoming this bias, he gained access to rich intellectual traditions that profoundly shaped his later work. the chronicles of narnia, his theological writings, and his literary criticism all bear the mark of pre-modern wisdom that his earlier self would have scorned. this is not an argument for uncritical traditionalism. old ideas are not valuable simply because they are old, just as new ideas are not valuable simply because they are new. the goal is discriminating judgment that evaluates ideas on their intrinsic merit rather than their temporal origin. how do we cultivate this discrimination? first, by reading primary sources rather than relying solely on contemporary interpretations. second, by asking what questions an older thinker was trying to answer before asking whether we agree with their conclusions. third, by considering what aspects of human experience might remain constant across centuries, making ancient insights potentially relevant today. the stakes are higher than mere academic completeness. in our chronologically snobbish age, we risk cutting ourselves off from the accumulated wisdom of centuries. ⊕ g.k. chesterton made a related point about tradition being "the democracy of the dead"—giving our ancestors a vote in contemporary decisions. we treat the past as a museum of outdated curiosities rather than a library of living ideas. in doing so, we impoverish not only our understanding of where we came from, but our vision of where we might go. the antidote to chronological snobbery is not chronological romanticism—the equally problematic assumption that older is automatically better. it is intellectual humility: the recognition that insight and error are distributed across all ages, including our own. good ideas can emerge from any century, and our task is to find them wherever they lie hidden, brushing off the dust of time to examine their continuing relevance. in this light, engaging with older thinkers becomes an act of intellectual archaeology. we dig through unfamiliar language and obsolete contexts to uncover insights that transcend their historical moment. sometimes we find ideas that truly belong to their age alone. but sometimes—often enough to make the effort worthwhile—we discover truths that speak across centuries with undiminished force.