Dignity, Direction, and Doing the Work
Seeking the curious with Zena Hitz.
As I mentioned earlier this week, the middle part of Hitz’s first chapter is a series of exemplars of the intellectual life. They are lovely and fascinating, and you will be very glad you read them. (My favorites were Mary and Malcolm X, FWIW.) They also scared the mess out of me! But as I also wrote previously, don’t worry.
What I ultimately took from this chapter was not the pressure to identify a singular “worthy preoccupation,” but something both more demanding and more humane: the intellectual life is defined by direction and by doing the work, not by possessing a particular object of study.
I briefly worried that I did not have a worthy preoccupation embedded in my project, I came to understand that to Hitz, a preoccupation isn’t [necessarily] a narrow “thing" at all:
…the inner life, even the intellectual life, has no determinate content: it is a human capacity to reject one’s surroundings by force of will and do something, do anything. (92)
The refuge from the world which she insists is a necessary first step to a fruitful inner life is not an escape from but an escape to. To what? [Forgive me grammarians…] That is the beauty of the project of building an inner life; the learner chooses her own direction. The following clause may be the one that most resonated with me in the whole book:
Perhaps we ought to think of the intellectual as having not so much an object as a direction… (94)
It struck me: I am seeking “the splendor of humanity” (96) through communion.

What does this mean? While I was worrying that I did not have a specific end while reading Hitz’s illustrious examples in the middle of this chapter, I was already arguing in my head that while I couldn’t point to a specific concept, I knew I had a goal and [at least the beginnings of] a plan. I have a direction. In identifying this direction, I can also claim to have arrived at some dignity, by Hirtz’s definition, in my pursuit.
One can have tremendous focus—on mastering a video game, for example—but such focus remains bounded by immediate experience. Dignity, for Hitz, arises when attention is directed beyond the self toward our shared humanity. To arrive at this communion, one must put in the work; it takes more than just desire:
To be driven by a desire to understand, to see, to learn, to wonder takes determination and work, or the good fortune of an externally imposed deprivation. (98)
If direction gives the intellectual life its orientation, doing the work gives it substance. Doing the work is laying the groundwork for communion.
…intellectual life opens up ways of relating that are based not on use but on mutual respect in light of a common goal. (101)
This communion is a unique form of human connection, in this case forged through connections with texts as emblems of the human experience across time and place. Embarking on an intellectual life means honing your ability to escape your particular circumstances as you enter the world of a text- never forgetting that regardless of genre, a text is an artifact of human experience. These connections are forged via the intellectual life and our ability to tap into something timeless and universal. Textual engagement then is the first step in doing the work.
Importantly, doing the work is solitary, but not isolated.
The human connection that a reader finds with authors, living and dead, also shapes the connections forged between flesh-and-blood people engaged in intellectual activity in common. (105)
The true intellectual life is also a process of “collaborative inquiry.” In seeking what we share in common as humans- books, ideas, reflection are our means. So… Do. The. Work. First, commune with authors in your own time and way. Then, commune with others in real life who are engaged in a common intellectual inquiry.
A dear friend recently asked me who my intended audience for this Substack is. I realized the question unsettled me because I’m not seeking an audience so much as a bond. These scribblings are me searching for an audience. I hope you will remain a part of it and help me expand it by identifying other individuals who might be interested.
I’ve set out a project of exploratory reading. What should come after that? If there is a text you’ve long wanted to read slowly and in conversation with others, I would love to hear about it. These early posts are an attempt to lay the groundwork for that kind of shared inquiry.

I like thinking about "direction" for discovery this time of year as I often stack books into a "to be read" pile in January and then intersperse many more throughout the year. Seneca, Edith Wharton, Cormac Macarthy and Dickens have all made the early stacking. Discussion in any form about great books is my favorite thing. I'm so glad you will always forge a way to connect people. Happy New Year!
Do you envision something like a textual equivalent of a Catherine Project reading group, or (based on your Liberty Fund experience) something in person?
For what it's worth, friends and I have found intellectual fulfillment in what I call pair reading (see https://stpeter.im/journal/1850.html for a description), but that practice might not be fully aligned with your commitment to community...