John of Salisbury and the tyranny of nonsense

Abstract

If you want to be a philosopher-shut up! Otherwise everyone will know that you are talking nonsense’. In the eleventh passus of Piers Plowman Imagination tells Will (the Dreamer) that he has been deserted by the learning of the clerks and bereft of the reason of his own mind because he could not stop himself from interfering and, puffed up with pride and presumption, had acted in matters where it was not appropriate for him to be the judge. ‘Philosophus esses si tacuisses’, as both the Bible and Boethius teach us: you might be a philosopher if only you could hold your tongue. Adam had had all Paradise to enjoy so long as he kept quiet. But when he ‘mamelede about mete’, when he began to talk nonsense, babbling about forbidden fruit when he should have kept mum—when he forgot that he was a man and began to pry into the mind and wisdom of God himself, to meddle with divine things-he was turned out of the garden. It is a passage which might have been taken straight from John of Salisbury, and indeed John was not a prophet without honour in the England of the fourteenth century. In many ways it is the theme tune of the Metalogicon and the Policraticus; and an ability to keep quiet was an understandably valuable attribute for a political agent of archbishop Theobald to possess as much as anybody else caught up in the ecclesiastical politics of the 1150s. But John of Salisbury would have us believe that the virtues of silence and non-interference had been one of the main lessons that he had learnt in the Parisian schools, which were cursed with the plague of words, and where he had been subjected to the relentless outpourings of those who talked too much and thereby created nonsensical things in profusion.