A return to good books in our ‘Winter of the Spirit’, to forge new paths of knowledge and freedom
‘Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?’ The questions posed by Thomas Stearns Eliot in the verses of The Rock (a poetic work staged in London in 1934) are extremely relevant, particularly in a challenging period when we are once again confronted with the cultural and moral decline of a ‘wasteland’, a desolate place.
The loss of wisdom and the fear of the unknown are constant themes in Western thought. Throughout the twentieth century, we witnessed the questioning of ethical and scientific certainties that were once considered immovable. Theories such as the theory of relativity, quantum physics with its ‘uncertainty principle’, and psychoanalysis with its exploration of the unconscious have overturned traditional forms and harmonies, as have representations of reality through music, figurative art, literature, and theatre. A storm of innovations has shaken philosophy, history, the economy and civil society. We descended into the ‘heart of darkness’ that Joseph Conrad first glimpsed in 1899 (later be transformed into a cinematic masterpiece by Francis Ford Coppola in his 1979 film Apocalypse Now).
The twentieth century was an age of uncertainty. Yet in its latter half, we caught a glimpse of the beauty of a long season of prosperity and progress, an illusion of the ‘best of all possible worlds’, with democracy, the free market, welfare, dynamic innovation and an ever-improving quality of life.
However, uncertainties and fears remain (it is worth revisiting Giacomo Leopardi‘s ironic reflections on ‘magnificent and progressive fortunes’). And today, at the dramatic beginning of the millennium, as the lights of the 20th century dim and give way to the darkness of armed conflicts and geopolitical and economic upheavals, we are here to critically consider the mistake of believing in the ‘end of history’, the limits of Western expansionism, and the need to address the new environmental, war and interest-related problems that plague our controversial humanity.
This is why we should heed Eliot’s words. Without succumbing to nostalgia for lost wisdom, we must try to understand how to restore knowledge to its rightful place and defend ourselves from the ongoing degradation of information, which is undermined by a ‘media jam’ of fake news, post-truth manipulations, and ‘factoids’ that are passed off on social media as facts. These ‘factoids’ are in a position to upset and overwhelm the well-informed public opinion that is indispensable to democracy.
Therefore, we need more knowledge: an increasingly sophisticated, critical knowledge. We need an original relationship between humanistic and scientific knowledge in order to understand, guide and govern the processes set in motion by artificial intelligence, which is occupying an ever-increasing amount of space in the economy, in society and in our lives. This involves both positive innovations (in health, research and industry, for example) and the disturbing implications (the political, social and moral consequences of the domination of big tech, with its structures of concentrated power and lack of adequate democratic control).
But, what kind of knowledge? The very culture of the twentieth century, which we mentioned earlier, may prove useful. It is a culture based on a sense of limits and the need for critical thinking and methodological doubt, resulting in a sense of responsibility. It is a culture that must be put to the test in the face of the new frontiers of thought and science.
We need to invest in education, training and depth of thought again. And so, we need to pick up our books once again.
‘Not all our books will perish’, wistfully wished the emperor Hadrian in the brilliant pages of Marguerite Yourcenar‘s Memoirs of Hadrian. And he undertakes to read them, to have them written, to save them, aware that ‘Founding libraries is like building public barns, piling up stock to tackle a winter of the spirit that, as several clues reveal, I fear will soon be here.’ A winter of the spirit that defines our daily lives.
Books focus on stories of travel and critical thoughts, the knowledge of pain and the power of hope, the deepest doubts and the most intense illuminations. As Stéphane Mallarmé, a ‘man of books’, knew: ‘Everything in the world exists in order to end up as a book.’
This means books and libraries (public and private, in homes, schools, businesses and places of social gathering, such as hospitals, as we discussed in a blog post on 12 May), literary, scientific and philosophical festivals, reading groups and events such as Pordenonelegge (with 160,000 visitors, see the blog post of 22 September) and ‘Ioleggoperché’ (organised by the Publishers’ Association and supported by Pirelli to donate books to schools), as well as Book City, both scheduled for November. Everything happens in the world of books . It is an essential world.
In a ‘provocative’ letter sent to Corriere della Sera, Marina Berlusconi, president of Italy’s largest publishing house, Mondadori, offers comforting words of wisdom. ‘In this era of “Move fast and break things”, Zuckerberg’s motto, what if we were to rediscover the slow but constructive power of good old books? Books have always been effective antibodies against barbarism and totalitarianism, but today they also serve a new purpose as antibodies against the stifling of thought imposed by smartphones — true instruments of resistance against digital standardisation.’ To ‘continue listening to the voices of freedom and democracy’.
However, the problem is that much less is being read in Italy these days. Avid readers (those who read at least 12 books per year) account for just 6.4% of the population. The proportion of people who read a book in the last year has decreased (from 74% in 2023 to 73% in 2024). The time spent reading has also fallen, with people now reading for just 2 hours and 47 minutes a week compared to 3 hours and 22 minutes in 2022. This includes reading any kind of book, including cheap novelty books or cookery books.
It is therefore essential to start educating people again about the pleasure of reading and the value of reading good books, starting from the earliest years of compulsory education. And while a well-designed law to promote books and reading is necessary, much more is needed: a solid, far-sighted cultural and civil battle that transcends all of society and involves not only politics and culture, but also the economy, businesses, schools, the ‘third sector’ and social organisations. Because a book represents knowledge, beauty, fantasy, pleasure, freedom, quality of life and autonomy of thought. It fosters a sense of responsibility, the construction of an open and dialogue-driven identity, and acts as a catalyst for a better, more fulfilling human condition.
A return to books is also essential to recover and strengthen the intellectual and moral resources necessary to deal with another growing phenomenon in these restless and disheartening times: the crisis of democracy and the crumbling of public opinion. The literature on the subject is limitless. In fact, faced with so much theoretical analysis, historical reconstruction and proposals for programmes, it is clear that something has gone wrong if we are still speaking of a ‘crisis’. So, it would be worthwhile to revisit a key text: It is by Hans Kelsen, one of the most important liberal jurists of the 20th century, and is taken from his essay General Theory of Law and the State (published in Italy in 1952): ‘In a democracy, the will of the community is always formed through continuous discussion between the majority and the minority, and through the free examination of arguments for and against a given regulation of a subject. This discussion should take place not only in parliament, but also in political meetings, newspapers, books, and other means of disseminating public opinion. A democracy without public opinion is a contradiction in terms. Where freedom of thought, speech, the press and religion are guaranteed, public opinion can arise and democracy coincides with political liberalism, although not necessarily with economic liberalism.’
So, once again, we are faced with the need for knowledge and the centrality of public opinion. The ‘discourse theory’, as Jürgen Habermas would argue, meaning capable of ‘public speech’, or critical discourse.
(Photo Getty Images)
‘Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?’ The questions posed by Thomas Stearns Eliot in the verses of The Rock (a poetic work staged in London in 1934) are extremely relevant, particularly in a challenging period when we are once again confronted with the cultural and moral decline of a ‘wasteland’, a desolate place.
The loss of wisdom and the fear of the unknown are constant themes in Western thought. Throughout the twentieth century, we witnessed the questioning of ethical and scientific certainties that were once considered immovable. Theories such as the theory of relativity, quantum physics with its ‘uncertainty principle’, and psychoanalysis with its exploration of the unconscious have overturned traditional forms and harmonies, as have representations of reality through music, figurative art, literature, and theatre. A storm of innovations has shaken philosophy, history, the economy and civil society. We descended into the ‘heart of darkness’ that Joseph Conrad first glimpsed in 1899 (later be transformed into a cinematic masterpiece by Francis Ford Coppola in his 1979 film Apocalypse Now).
The twentieth century was an age of uncertainty. Yet in its latter half, we caught a glimpse of the beauty of a long season of prosperity and progress, an illusion of the ‘best of all possible worlds’, with democracy, the free market, welfare, dynamic innovation and an ever-improving quality of life.
However, uncertainties and fears remain (it is worth revisiting Giacomo Leopardi‘s ironic reflections on ‘magnificent and progressive fortunes’). And today, at the dramatic beginning of the millennium, as the lights of the 20th century dim and give way to the darkness of armed conflicts and geopolitical and economic upheavals, we are here to critically consider the mistake of believing in the ‘end of history’, the limits of Western expansionism, and the need to address the new environmental, war and interest-related problems that plague our controversial humanity.
This is why we should heed Eliot’s words. Without succumbing to nostalgia for lost wisdom, we must try to understand how to restore knowledge to its rightful place and defend ourselves from the ongoing degradation of information, which is undermined by a ‘media jam’ of fake news, post-truth manipulations, and ‘factoids’ that are passed off on social media as facts. These ‘factoids’ are in a position to upset and overwhelm the well-informed public opinion that is indispensable to democracy.
Therefore, we need more knowledge: an increasingly sophisticated, critical knowledge. We need an original relationship between humanistic and scientific knowledge in order to understand, guide and govern the processes set in motion by artificial intelligence, which is occupying an ever-increasing amount of space in the economy, in society and in our lives. This involves both positive innovations (in health, research and industry, for example) and the disturbing implications (the political, social and moral consequences of the domination of big tech, with its structures of concentrated power and lack of adequate democratic control).
But, what kind of knowledge? The very culture of the twentieth century, which we mentioned earlier, may prove useful. It is a culture based on a sense of limits and the need for critical thinking and methodological doubt, resulting in a sense of responsibility. It is a culture that must be put to the test in the face of the new frontiers of thought and science.
We need to invest in education, training and depth of thought again. And so, we need to pick up our books once again.
‘Not all our books will perish’, wistfully wished the emperor Hadrian in the brilliant pages of Marguerite Yourcenar‘s Memoirs of Hadrian. And he undertakes to read them, to have them written, to save them, aware that ‘Founding libraries is like building public barns, piling up stock to tackle a winter of the spirit that, as several clues reveal, I fear will soon be here.’ A winter of the spirit that defines our daily lives.
Books focus on stories of travel and critical thoughts, the knowledge of pain and the power of hope, the deepest doubts and the most intense illuminations. As Stéphane Mallarmé, a ‘man of books’, knew: ‘Everything in the world exists in order to end up as a book.’
This means books and libraries (public and private, in homes, schools, businesses and places of social gathering, such as hospitals, as we discussed in a blog post on 12 May), literary, scientific and philosophical festivals, reading groups and events such as Pordenonelegge (with 160,000 visitors, see the blog post of 22 September) and ‘Ioleggoperché’ (organised by the Publishers’ Association and supported by Pirelli to donate books to schools), as well as Book City, both scheduled for November. Everything happens in the world of books . It is an essential world.
In a ‘provocative’ letter sent to Corriere della Sera, Marina Berlusconi, president of Italy’s largest publishing house, Mondadori, offers comforting words of wisdom. ‘In this era of “Move fast and break things”, Zuckerberg’s motto, what if we were to rediscover the slow but constructive power of good old books? Books have always been effective antibodies against barbarism and totalitarianism, but today they also serve a new purpose as antibodies against the stifling of thought imposed by smartphones — true instruments of resistance against digital standardisation.’ To ‘continue listening to the voices of freedom and democracy’.
However, the problem is that much less is being read in Italy these days. Avid readers (those who read at least 12 books per year) account for just 6.4% of the population. The proportion of people who read a book in the last year has decreased (from 74% in 2023 to 73% in 2024). The time spent reading has also fallen, with people now reading for just 2 hours and 47 minutes a week compared to 3 hours and 22 minutes in 2022. This includes reading any kind of book, including cheap novelty books or cookery books.
It is therefore essential to start educating people again about the pleasure of reading and the value of reading good books, starting from the earliest years of compulsory education. And while a well-designed law to promote books and reading is necessary, much more is needed: a solid, far-sighted cultural and civil battle that transcends all of society and involves not only politics and culture, but also the economy, businesses, schools, the ‘third sector’ and social organisations. Because a book represents knowledge, beauty, fantasy, pleasure, freedom, quality of life and autonomy of thought. It fosters a sense of responsibility, the construction of an open and dialogue-driven identity, and acts as a catalyst for a better, more fulfilling human condition.
A return to books is also essential to recover and strengthen the intellectual and moral resources necessary to deal with another growing phenomenon in these restless and disheartening times: the crisis of democracy and the crumbling of public opinion. The literature on the subject is limitless. In fact, faced with so much theoretical analysis, historical reconstruction and proposals for programmes, it is clear that something has gone wrong if we are still speaking of a ‘crisis’. So, it would be worthwhile to revisit a key text: It is by Hans Kelsen, one of the most important liberal jurists of the 20th century, and is taken from his essay General Theory of Law and the State (published in Italy in 1952): ‘In a democracy, the will of the community is always formed through continuous discussion between the majority and the minority, and through the free examination of arguments for and against a given regulation of a subject. This discussion should take place not only in parliament, but also in political meetings, newspapers, books, and other means of disseminating public opinion. A democracy without public opinion is a contradiction in terms. Where freedom of thought, speech, the press and religion are guaranteed, public opinion can arise and democracy coincides with political liberalism, although not necessarily with economic liberalism.’
So, once again, we are faced with the need for knowledge and the centrality of public opinion. The ‘discourse theory’, as Jürgen Habermas would argue, meaning capable of ‘public speech’, or critical discourse.
(Photo Getty Images)