Musonius Rufus, Lectures 5.1

Lecture 5: Which is more effective, theory or practice?

At another time the problem arose among us whether for the acquisition of virtue practice or theory is more effective, understanding that theory teaches what is right conduct, while practice represents the habit of those accustomed to act in accordance with such theory.

To Musonius, practice seemed to be more effective, and speaking in support of his opinion, he asked one of those present the following question: "Suppose that there are two physicians, one able to discourse very brilliantly about the art of medicine but having no experience in taking care of the sick, and the other quite incapable of speaking but experienced in treating his patients according to correct medical theory. Which one," he asked, "would you choose to attend you if you were ill?" He replied that he would choose the doctor who had experience in healing.

We have an unfortunate tendency to get caught up in false dichotomies, in finding contradictions where none need to be present. As my father always liked to joke, “Did you walk to school, or did you bring your lunch?”

Some differences may indeed involve opposites, but other differences may serve as complements. A man might not be able to be virtuous and dishonest, but there is nothing stopping him from being virtuous and eccentric.

I have faced the unfortunate tension between theory and practice for most of my life, having seen the supposed followers of one quite ready to dismiss the supposed followers of the other. I have been at cocktail parties where academics berate the ignorance of the unwashed masses, and I have been at local bars where tradesmen curse the arrogance of the bookworms.

I eventually learned to smile instead of gritting my teeth, recognizing that the world needs them both, that thinking and doing have to go hand in hand. There can be no action without awareness, and no awareness without action.

But which comes first, and which is more important? Yes, I can hardly do what is good without understanding what is good, but what point could there be to understanding what is good without actually doing what is good?

They seem to require one another, in different senses. Theory should inform practice, while practice should also be the completion of theory. Theory is primary in one way, in that everything begins with judgment, and practice is also primary in another, in that judgment exists for the end of action.

I recall once telling a class that practice without theory is blind, and that theory without practice is toothless. They looked at me funny, however, so I didn’t belabor the point.

I think of The Breakfast Club, one of those movies that shaped my younger years far more than I am willing to admit. Brian, the brain, is in despair because he is failing shop class. Bender, the criminal, calls him out on it:

Brian: . . . 'Cause I thought, I'll take shop, it'll be such an easy way to maintain my grade point average.

Bender: Why'd you think it'd be easy?

Brian: Have you seen some of the dopes that take shop?

Bender: I take shop. You must be a ****in' idiot!

Brian: I'm a ****in' idiot because I can't make a lamp?

Bender: No, you're a genius because you can't make a lamp.

Brian: What do you know about Trigonometry?

Bender: I could care less about Trigonometry.

Brian: Bender, did you know without Trigonometry there'd be no engineering?

Bender: Without lamps, there'd be no light.

Through all of the twists and turns that come with philosophy, however, Stoicism reminds me that my feet must be firmly planted on the ground, or otherwise my head will float away. We are made to live well, certainly not at the expense of thinking well, but with the latter finding its full expression in the former.

So, with all other things being equal, keeping in mind that just pondering about the job doesn’t actually get the job done, what kind of doctor would I prefer if I am sick? For the sake of argument, let me assume these are my only two choices:

The one might have gone to the best schools, and everyone tells me how brilliant he is, and he offers me lengthy explanations of what ails me, using mightily impressive big words I have never heard before. But I am still sick.

The other has a questionable pedigree, and he talks more like a plumber than a physician, and he simply tells me to shut up, stop wasting his time with my fancy questions, and to take my medicine. And now I am no longer sick.

Give me the support and comfort of both the theory and the practice if you can, but given the choice, I’d rather have my health without the bells and whistles, than the bells and whistles without my health. And after all the talking about it, so would you.

Written in 7/1999