In the new year, I’m thinking a lot about wisdom—what it is, where we can find it, how we can cultivate and share it with each other. Mine is not a new or solitary pursuit. Humanity has been pondering the source and credibility of wisdom from ancient times. But in our current moment, a deliberate search for wisdom seems, well, wise.
A quarter of a century into the new millennium, an increasingly global society fueled by rapid technological changes has embraced what author and academic David Orr describes as fast knowledge. Among other things, fast knowledge presumes “only that which can be measured is true knowledge; knowledge that lends itself to use is superior to that which is merely contemplative; and wisdom is an undefinable, hence unimportant, category.”[1] In other words, in this paradigm, the fast acquisition of information is in; time-honored and carefully curated wisdom is out.
Writing 30 years ago (long before artificial intelligence, algorithms, or chatbots became cultural buzzwords), Orr observed that fast knowledge was already widely believed to represent the very essence of human progress. But, he cautioned, “many if not most of the ecological, economic, social and psychological ailments that beset contemporary society can be attributed directly or indirectly to knowledge acquired and applied before we had time to think it through carefully.” In addition to its benefits, fast knowledge and its application often generate a host of unintended and not so beneficial consequences.
By contrast, slow knowledge—the incremental accumulation of knowledge in community and over many generations—tends to produce dependably positive results. “The only knowledge we’ve ever been able to count on for consistently good effect over the long run is knowledge that has been acquired slowly through cultural maturation,” writes Orr. “The aim of slow knowledge is resilience, harmony, and the preservation of patterns that connect.”
In the 21st century, it is immaterial really which is better or worse. The fact is, thanks to advanced computing power, artificial intelligence, and the ubiquity of the internet, fast knowledge and slow knowledge share the same stage—counterweights for a vibrant, healthy society. But because time is a luxury at present, recognizing the differences between fast and slow knowledge and appreciating when to apply each can be beneficial. Need a quick fix? Fast knowledge gets you there in a jiffy. Looking to avoid problems in the first place? Count on slow knowledge to provide sound thinking. Fast knowledge invites hubris; slow knowledge clings to parochialism, often at the expense of needed change. Fast knowledge rewards innovation; slow knowledge values wisdom.
Pondering the value of wisdom is a good and logical starting point for a distracted world increasingly charmed by fast knowledge. Shakespeare long ago observed, “The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.” Indeed, without a healthy dose of wisdom, knowledge alone can lead to peril. Thus, we seek.
Sam Altman ranks high in the upper echelons of the modern-day knowledge industry. The under-40 billionaire entrepreneur dropped out of Stanford University in the early 2000s to launch a startup company. Then, in 2015 he co-founded OpenAI, an artificial intelligence research lab most noted for its ChatGPT chatbot that understands queries and creates natural language text. If you’ve ordered something online recently and thought you were chatting with a helpful human in Des Moines, chances are it was really ChatGPT or some other bot.
Altman is a life-long lover of knowledge and an optimist when it comes to AI, which he believes has the power to magnify human ability. “I view human progress as one long exponential curve where we all get to build on the work people have done before us,” he shared in a recent interview. “And the people who come after us get to build further on the work that we’ve done.”
AI is groundbreaking but also controversial, Altman’s optimism notwithstanding. For all of AI’s potential benefits—healthcare solutions, expanded education opportunities, improved language and translation abilities, reduced manufacturing errors, to name just a few—it also has real downsides. AI will likely lead to the elimination of certain jobs, for example. It introduces new plagiarism concerns in the classroom. And on a more nefarious level, it could lead to increased threats to cybersecurity, incidents of computer hacking, and the proliferation of deepfakes and false news. Then, there are infrastructure concerns. AI datacenters gobble up large parcels of real estate. In addition, an enormous amount of power is needed to operate these information warehouses.
The power of AI will change the way we live, just as the industrial revolution changed the way our ancestors lived. How to develop and use that power has far-reaching and long-lasting consequences. That’s where wisdom comes into the calculus, or should.
“It should be a question for society how the technology in general is used or not used,” says Altman. “But we [the developers] do have the responsibility to do the best that we can do before that happens.” He adds, “As society gets more experienced with these tools, it will become clearer what the standards should be. In the meantime, we have to make some decisions.”
Decisions that will require wisdom. Should Congress enact certain regulations to protect the public, for example? What would those guardrails look like? How would rules and standards be monitored? And, how do you balance innovation with regulation? On a geopolitical level, how essential is it for the U.S. to maintain the lead in AI development over rivals like China and others who don’t share our values?
The AI quandary illustrates the importance of seeking wisdom. But it is not just the grand questions of our day that deserve such attention. In fact, in the more mundane, practical matters of living, the search for wisdom holds equal, if not greater, worth. Should I accept this job? How do I know I’m ready for marriage? How do I help my child navigate the turbulent teens? What can I do to ease the burden of my neighbor?
Presented with life’s challenging decisions—from AI to family or workplace dynamics—there is more at stake than simply finding solutions. How we get to those solutions, the nature of our answers, what is lost and what is gained along the way, who and what is impacted—these are wisdom questions. The answers matter and ultimately reflect our character and the legacy we leave for future generations.
Proverbs 24:3–4 says, “By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures.” If we are prudent, we seek wisdom to ensure a firm foundation for ourselves and the people whose lives intersect with our own.
Of course, even in the searching, the good and wise answers are not always readily apparent. How can we do a better job of spotting wisdom in the everyday?
For millennia, humankind has labored to define wisdom. History’s greatest thinkers have ruminated on, hypothesized about, debated, and battled over the meaning of this most enigmatic and desirous of qualities. Confucius concluded that we learn wisdom one of three ways: “First by reflection, which is noblest; second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.” Socrates, like Shakespeare, surmised that “the only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”
Solomon went straight to the top, asking God for a “wise and discerning heart.”[2] God provided. Through the ages and across faith traditions and cultures, Solomon has been characterized as a leader with profound wisdom, the wisest of men. Yet Solomon is also a tragic figure precisely because he squandered God’s gift. Knowledge alone is not wisdom. It also involves discipline over time, obedience, experience, relationship, and follow-through—virtues that Solomon allowed to slip. In the end, and in the absence of wisdom, Solomon could only cynically conclude that “everything is meaningless.”[3]
Aristotle and Aquinas took a practical view of wisdom, attaching it to the cardinal virtue of prudence. For these philosophical forefathers, prudence meant right action about right things. Choosing the right goal but also a right way of achieving that goal. Prudence requires thoughtful assessment of a situation. It requires more than simply identifying that something is desirable; there must also be a plausible way to get that something, and the ability to do it in a good way.
All of these philosophers have added to our understanding of wisdom, but all fall short of capturing the true essence of the word. Throughout history, there is but one model that reveals the full substance of wisdom: Jesus. The slogan makers were onto something a few years back with the catchphrase What Would Jesus Do (WWJD).
We can start with Luke 2:52 (NIV): “And Jesus grew increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.” Even Jesus—fully God and fully human—had to learn to recognize wisdom. But more than just recognize it, he grew in it. Which is to say, he practiced it. He applied it. He put in the effort. And in the process, he grew in standing with the humans around him, but also in favor with God. That’s the example we long to replicate.
Like Solomon, we need only ask God to reveal his wisdom to us. He will be faithful to deliver. James 1:5 says, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.” But like Jesus, we need to believe in what we are asking God to provide. James 1:6 continues, “But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.”
In Jesus, we find examples of everyday wisdom. His prayers, parables and other teachings recorded in Scripture instruct us in how to navigate the human condition. Having trouble with forgiveness? Jesus taught his followers that forgiveness is always the wise decision. In our relationships with others and our relationship with God, forgiveness is in our best interest. “When you pray,” he said, “say … forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us.”[4] When that feels like an impossibility because politics or culture wars or petty jealousies get in the way, we need only look at the cross where Jesus, once again, serves as our example. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”[5]
Feeling anxious? Jesus reminds us that anxiety adds nothing to our lives, not a single hour. Using the wisdom easily observed in nature, he encourages us to loosen our grip on fear and worry: “Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”[6]
Wondering how to conduct yourself in the public square? Jesus preached a radical wisdom (love your enemies) but also a practical one. As he sent his disciples into the mission field, he knew the assignment was fraught with danger. He offered them the same wisdom then that serves us well today: “I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be as wise as serpents and innocent as doves.”[7]
We recognize wisdom when we train our sights on Jesus. Prayer and Scripture are the natural resources available to us in our wisdom walk. But community also adds value to that endeavor.
When my daughters each turned 18, we arranged special celebrations for them. We called these events “Pearls of Wisdom” parties. More than your standard-issue birthday party, these affairs marked the passage from young girl to young woman. The invitation lists were strategic and included other women who had come alongside our girls during their formative years: teachers, coaches, grandmothers, aunties, neighbors. These were the women who had cheered our girls in their victories, soothed them in their disappointments, and modeled compassion, fortitude, creativity, resourcefulness, generosity, and gratitude.
Now we asked these guests to offer up pearls of wisdom, small treasures our girls could carry with them on their life journeys. Some of the responses were humorous like, “floss daily” and “go easy on the caffeine.” Others were practical: “Make time for fun,” and “don’t stay in your room; get involved.” Many landed in the poignant column: “Learn to forgive,” “hold fast to family and faith,” and “follow God’s heart because he is the source of your passions.”
At the conclusion of each gathering, my husband arrived to surprise our girls with a strand of real pearls. The hope was that when worn, these pearls would serve as a reminder of the wisdom pearls that had been lavished on them through the years. We also collected the day’s written pearls and bound them together with pictures into a keepsake album. I recently thumbed through one of those albums. I am grateful for the village of friends and relatives who helped pour wisdom into my girls. But it made me wonder, where do they look for wisdom now? Where do any of us search for wisdom in our fast-knowledge era, in an age where institutional trust has been fractured in so many ways and the whole of creation seems to be groaning together?
Ben Pilgreen proposes an interesting premise in his new book Bring it Out. “Your future is going to be determined by the people seated at your wisdom table,” he writes. “Every single one of us needs a group of people who can serve as advisers and hold us accountable.”[8]
Pilgreen likens the wisdom table to a board of directors whose job it is to advise, make decisions, and hold individuals accountable for the good of the organization. The idea of a wisdom table is that of a personal board of directors, carefully assembled to help us steer through life. All of us have a de facto wisdom table, even if we don’t know it. People we turn to who help us think through problems. Friends who commiserate with us after a bad day at the office. Mentors who point us in the direction of our goals.
Now consider Proverbs 13:20: “Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm.” Then ask yourself who are the best candidates to have a seat at your wisdom table?
Presumably, the guest list will include a whole lot of wise folks. But Pilgreen cautions to look closely. Yes, consider those who see God as the ultimate source of wisdom, but also make sure you can actually see the fruit of their wisdom for yourself. Also, invite only those who genuinely want what’s best for you (different from those who would simply agree with you at every turn).
Many of us have leaned on a poor digital substitute instead of the holistic wisdom table Pilgreen describes. We cobble together an odd assortment of influencers and social media personalities we call friends. Then we spend hours scrolling posts and viewing reels on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, TikTok, and myriad other platforms. Half of America’s teens spend at least 4 hours a day using a variety of social media apps.[9] Time that, in eras past, might have been spent practicing a hobby with a friend, learning a skill from a grandparent, or participating in acts of service.
Frankly, today’s adults aren’t much better, spending almost 2.5 hours a day on social media. I’m guilty. I confess to being one of @dadadvicefrombo‘s 4.1 million followers. (I know how to properly winterize the house thanks to Bo.) So yes, there’s a place for wisdom of the digital variety. But real wisdom demands more than just the accumulation of knowledge. We also need to know what to do with that knowledge, how to sift through it, and what it feels like to actually put that knowledge to good use. In most cases, that involves human interaction.
Wisdom is found most completely in the company of others. Which brings us back to the wisdom table. Pilgreen writes, “When you pursue a major calling in your life, it really matters who is in it with you.” Who is whispering in your ear in all of the important facets of your journey: your spiritual life, relationships, parenting, vocation, finances, civic participation? In our fast-knowledge world, imagine the impact if we rested on a framework of slow-knowledge wisdom. Might our friendships grow deeper, our engagement at work more meaningful, our devotional time sweeter?
There will be distraction in 2025. Plenty. And that’s okay, because in many ways our distraction signals forward momentum—new tools at our fingertips, innovative ideas, creative solutions. But let’s not forget that what is new descends from what came before—the slow absorption of knowledge, burnished through trial and error. Wisdom. Not a bad watchword for the New Year.
Blessed is the one who finds wisdom,
and the one who gets understanding,
for the gain from her is better than gain from silver
and her profit better than gold. (Proverbs 3:13–14)
[1] David W. Orr, “Slow Knowledge,” Conservation Biology vol 10, no. 3 (June 1996): 699–702, https://www.jstor.org/stable/2387090.
[2] 1 Kings 3: 5–14 (NIV).
[3] Ecclesiastes 1:2–11 (NIV).
[4] Luke 11:4
[5] Luke 23:34
[6] Matthew 6:25–34
[7] Matthew 10:16
[8] Ben Pilgreen, Bring it Out: How to Cultivate the Unique Gifts and Assignments You’ve Been Given (Revell, 2024), 65–98.
[9] Jonathan Rothwell, “Teens Spend Average of 4.8 Hours on Social Media Per Day,” Wellbeing, October 13, 2023, https://news.gallup.com/poll/512576/teens-spend-average-hours-social-media-per-day.aspx.