utilitarian education

Many parents concentrate mainly on what we might call a utilitarian education—focused on skills that can produce measurable results or financial returns. While this has its place, it can leave us blind to the value of endeavors that cannot be justified in utilitarian terms. Yet these “non-utilitarian” areas—such as philosophy, theology, the arts—are often the ones that nourish the deepest parts of the human spirit.

We know from experience that too much food, or food of poor quality, becomes harmful. The same principle applies to the soul. Just as the body suffers from excess or toxic nutrition, so does the spirit suffer from an overload of worthless or even corrupt cultural consumption.

It may sound harsh to say it, but certain forms of art—whether music, literature, or film—can diminish our capacity for spiritual elevation. They do not leave us neutral. They can dull the sense of transcendence, distort desire, and weaken the soul’s orientation toward what is noble. If this is true, then why would a parent consciously allow a child to be shaped by such art, when there exists an entire treasury of noble, beautiful, and elevating works?

A possible answer—though an uncomfortable one—is that the parent himself may not have been formed in the best traditions of art and knowledge. But then the responsibility becomes even greater: to ensure that the next generation receives access to the highest products of the human mind and spirit. Why not expose the child to the finest achievements in music, literature, science, and philosophy, before letting him choose? Why not cultivate his taste and judgment by offering him the richest soil in which his soul can grow?

A truly human education is never merely utilitarian. It is formative. It aims not just at preparing for a job, but at shaping a person—whole, wise, and free.