Michael Ignatieff: Historian Discouraged From Seeking Political Office
[Byline: Barry Cooper teaches political science at the University of Calgary.]
Michael Ignatieff is well known today for two things. He is not (yet) seeking Paul Martin's job. That would be "presumptuous," he told an audience at McGill University this month. He is also counted among the top 100 world-class intellectuals in a poll run by two world-class intellectual magazines, Prospect from Britain and Foreign Policy from the United States. The compilers note that the list "doesn't bear thinking about too closely" because inclusion is not a matter of "intrinsic achievement." Indeed, most people listed are well known because they are famous.
Ignatieff was not always an intellectual. Earlier in life, he was a historian and a scholar. He wrote solid books on penitentiaries in the 18th century and on the Scottish enlightenment. He was an "18th-century man."
Then he undertook some reflections on the grounds for human obligations as argued, for example, by St, Augustine as well as by 18th-century thinkers. However, with the exception of his 1998 biography of Isaiah Berlin, the scholarly phase of his life ended about 25 ago.
Scholars are not the same as intellectuals. Scholars write about things that they care about and that they think are important even if (or especially if) no one else does. They grow obsessed with the intricacies of the legal theories of Bartolus of Sassoferato or the source of pigment in oranges. Often they are playful and ironic and serious about but one thing: They think highly of thinking. They admire their own vocation as thinkers, even if they do not think highly of themselves or of their accomplishments.
Scholars are often surprised rather than grateful or even gracious when people who are not scholars notice them or, worse, praise them. And by and large they have no time for intellectuals.
This is why Doug Owram, a scholar at the University of Alberta, dismissed the inclusion of Ignatieff (and of Naomi Klein, who apparently waxes indignant about shopping) on the list of 100 as a "pop contest" and so, "ridiculous." For scholars, intellectuals are sophists or jesters and clowns, unworthy of more attention than Madonna or Peter Mansbridge.
After his days as a scholar, Ignatieff became a media personality on the BBC. His TV shows provided him with the opportunity to travel to unpleasant parts of the world and write adventure-travel books about his experiences. Intellectuals hailed them as important. Thus, when another intellectual introduced him at the Liberals' policy convention last spring, he was "a man who needs no introduction." He had arrived. Unfortunately, scholars considered his books superficial and "journalistic," which is a term of abuse when issued from a mouth turned down in scholarly disdain.
...
The world lost a scholar when Ignatieff became an intellectual. This misfortune will be compounded if he follows the logic of intellectual influence and seeks power as well.
Michael Ignatieff is well known today for two things. He is not (yet) seeking Paul Martin's job. That would be "presumptuous," he told an audience at McGill University this month. He is also counted among the top 100 world-class intellectuals in a poll run by two world-class intellectual magazines, Prospect from Britain and Foreign Policy from the United States. The compilers note that the list "doesn't bear thinking about too closely" because inclusion is not a matter of "intrinsic achievement." Indeed, most people listed are well known because they are famous.
Ignatieff was not always an intellectual. Earlier in life, he was a historian and a scholar. He wrote solid books on penitentiaries in the 18th century and on the Scottish enlightenment. He was an "18th-century man."
Then he undertook some reflections on the grounds for human obligations as argued, for example, by St, Augustine as well as by 18th-century thinkers. However, with the exception of his 1998 biography of Isaiah Berlin, the scholarly phase of his life ended about 25 ago.
Scholars are not the same as intellectuals. Scholars write about things that they care about and that they think are important even if (or especially if) no one else does. They grow obsessed with the intricacies of the legal theories of Bartolus of Sassoferato or the source of pigment in oranges. Often they are playful and ironic and serious about but one thing: They think highly of thinking. They admire their own vocation as thinkers, even if they do not think highly of themselves or of their accomplishments.
Scholars are often surprised rather than grateful or even gracious when people who are not scholars notice them or, worse, praise them. And by and large they have no time for intellectuals.
This is why Doug Owram, a scholar at the University of Alberta, dismissed the inclusion of Ignatieff (and of Naomi Klein, who apparently waxes indignant about shopping) on the list of 100 as a "pop contest" and so, "ridiculous." For scholars, intellectuals are sophists or jesters and clowns, unworthy of more attention than Madonna or Peter Mansbridge.
After his days as a scholar, Ignatieff became a media personality on the BBC. His TV shows provided him with the opportunity to travel to unpleasant parts of the world and write adventure-travel books about his experiences. Intellectuals hailed them as important. Thus, when another intellectual introduced him at the Liberals' policy convention last spring, he was "a man who needs no introduction." He had arrived. Unfortunately, scholars considered his books superficial and "journalistic," which is a term of abuse when issued from a mouth turned down in scholarly disdain.
...
The world lost a scholar when Ignatieff became an intellectual. This misfortune will be compounded if he follows the logic of intellectual influence and seeks power as well.