It is a pleasure to learn.

Nothing is quite like the joyful shock one feels when an idea makes sense and truly takes hold.  In that ensuing afterglow, one’s universe becomes larger, stranger, and more fun. Whether skimming celebrity gossip at the checkout counter or reading Homer in the original Greek, humans are learning machines. Learning is what humans do.  That’s why few phrases perplex me more than, “Makes learning fun!” One might as well say, “Makes breathing fun!” Learning something for itself is a pleasure, regardless of “practical” considerations.

This book began as an anthem, a hymn to the joy of expanding one’s intellectual and aesthetic horizons. I felt, and still feel, that a life of the mind enhances the quality of life even if that learning does not translate into extra dollars. This makes me something of a heretic in a world where education, especially higher education, is considered almost solely in terms of job training and “return on investment.” Instead, I wished to invite the reader to join a quiet confederation of happy misfits, what E. M. Forster described as an aristocracy of the mind:

Not an aristocracy of power, based upon rank and influence, but an aristocracy of the sensitive, the considerate and the plucky. Its members are to be found in all nations and classes, and all through the ages, and there is a secret understanding between them when they meet. They represent the true human tradition, the one permanent victory of our queer race over cruelty and chaos. Thousands of them perish in obscurity, a few are great names. They are sensitive for others as well as for themselves, they are considerate without being fussy, their pluck is not swankiness but the power to endure, and they can take a joke.^[i]

Today, this kind of aristocracy would be labeled “elitism”, and not in a complimentary way. Tension has always existed between larger society and who insist on scrabbling after knowledge and playing with ideas. Intellectuals have their own ways of thinking about things, and arrive at their own conclusions in their own good time. They ask pesky questions, and do not always fall in line when asked.

By issuing this invitation, I could be accused of elitism. I plead guilty. I am an unapologetic, unrepentant elitist; I contend that we need elite thinkers, a lot of them, in every stratum and every corner of society.

This book is about how to join this collective, which makes it a “how to” kind of book. It does not address the question of “why.” Since you are reading this, you may already have your own answer to that question; the fun of curiosity, creativity, and questions that won’t go away. Maybe it’s a desire to improve, enliven, and empower yourself. Pursuing a life of the mind can do all that, and more.

This is not an easy path; there are barriers to entering this aristocracy of the mind. Some are institutional. Others only give way to disciplines that put your mind at the disposal of your work and the need to create a zone of silence and reflection, or a network of colleagues for sharing and exploring ideas. Difficult? Yes.  But very much worth the effort.

What is Guerrilla Scholarship?

Most formal learning occurs within authorized systems, but much also simmers underground, without the vast resources of academia or the corporate world. I call this informal intellectual work, “guerrilla scholarship.” Guerrilla scholarship, simply stated, is anything that helps the independent thinker and scholar obtain access to tools comparable to those enjoyed by professional academics. It means using imaginative methods to obtain what independents need, but do not have by virtue of their independent status. Implicit in the guerrilla scholar’s activity is the understanding that, like the guerrilla fighter, the guerrilla scholar needs the goodwill of the local population or at least a support network in order to succeed. As we discuss guerrilla scholarship, keep in mind that many of the ideas I’m about to present involve enhancing the intellectual atmosphere of your community. This isn’t merely a veneer of good publicity; it is crucial to improve your chances of success. It also points up the flip side of guerrilla scholarship, namely, that in addition to using unusual methods to do serious scholarship, one can use the tools of scholarship to accomplish remarkable things.

Ironically, guerrilla scholarship as an extra-academic activity grew out of my experience in academia. While in graduate school at UC Berkeley I found myself bouncing between academia and the private sector, mainly for financial reasons. In order to continue my program, like many students, I usually had to work part time. My spouse was also in a doctoral program (at Stanford), which meant that sometimes, we took turns taking a year off to work full time before returning to student life. Thus my academic experience was strongly informed by the realities of getting along in the real world. But even my time away from academia required that I continue my studies informally, often without access to the resources I had as a registered student.

After I finished my degree, I knew in my heart of hearts that a life in traditional academia was not for me. I also knew that a doctorate in ancient Near Eastern studies was not something I could readily take to the private sector. So, I continued to work and publish, modestly, in my areas of study without most of the benefits of academia.

But there was an advantage to this freelance intellectual life, unbounded by strictures of an academic department: I had the freedom to follow my interests wherever they took me, and indulge myself in a wide range of curious activities, such as:

·    Publishing papers on wordplay in ancient Near Eastern poetry and omen texts

·    Working with a team of amateur scientists attempting to build the world’s first spacelift-capable amateur rocket

·    Starting and running a company for publishing science education software

·    Co-editing a book of essays by world-class scholars explaining the results of modern biblical scholarship for a lay audience

·    Co-founding a university offering nationally accredited degree programs in intelligence, counterterrorism, and executive protection.

All this without spending a minute of my time worrying whether I would be granted tenure which, given the above list of activities, I almost certainly would not. I am too much the generalist to confine my interests to the strictures of university tenure-track positions. Besides, university teaching jobs in the humanities were scarce, growing scarcer, and poorly compensated. This prompted me to explore other options, both for work and intellectual enjoyment.