It's tempting to say the Ph.D. didn't have an effect, but it's

Hear the reflective words of Robert B. Parker, a craftsman of story and student of wisdom: “It's tempting to say the Ph.D. didn't have an effect, but it's not so. I think whatever resonance I may be able to achieve is in part simply from the amount of reading and learning that I acquired along the way.” In these words we find not only the testimony of a scholar, but the eternal truth that deep learning, though often hidden, shapes the voice, the mind, and the soul. For knowledge is not wasted, even when its fruit is unseen.

To dismiss the value of a Ph.D. might seem easy, for titles and degrees alone do not make one wise. But Parker reminds us that true worth lies not in the letters after one’s name, but in the reading and learning that such a path demands. The countless hours with books, the discipline of thought, the patient struggle to understand ideas—all these, though invisible, sink roots deep into the mind. From such roots rises a resonance, a depth of expression that gives power to words and weight to the spirit.

The phrase “resonance I may be able to achieve” speaks to the way knowledge echoes through art. A writer who has read widely, who has wrestled with ideas across centuries, writes not only with his own voice, but with the chorus of voices he has absorbed. His words carry layers, depth, and richness that cannot be faked. Just as a great musician plays not only the notes but the centuries of tradition behind them, so the scholar-artist creates with a resonance born of long learning.

History gives us many examples. Consider Cicero, the Roman statesman and orator. His speeches swayed the Senate and echoed through history not merely because of natural talent, but because he immersed himself in Greek philosophy, rhetoric, and law. His learning gave his words a force beyond mere persuasion; they carried the weight of accumulated wisdom. Cicero’s greatness was not in his title, but in the resonance of his learning—exactly the truth Parker speaks of in his own life.

We may also think of Toni Morrison, whose years of study and deep engagement with literature gave her novels unparalleled depth. She drew not only from her own imagination, but from a vast reservoir of cultural, historical, and literary knowledge. Her words resonate across time and culture because they are rooted in both personal vision and scholarly depth. This is the fruit of reading and learning: the ability to create works that speak to the human spirit across generations.

Parker’s confession also humbles us. For he admits that it is tempting to dismiss the influence of formal study, to imagine genius alone sufficient. Yet he gives honor to the hidden labor of years, acknowledging that without it, his art would be less. In this, he reminds us that greatness is rarely sudden—it is forged by discipline, by humility before the wisdom of others, and by patience in the slow work of learning.

The lesson is clear: learning is never wasted. Every book read, every idea wrestled with, every hour spent in the discipline of thought enriches the soul. Even if the degree or title seems unimportant, the journey itself transforms the mind. The resonance we achieve in our words, in our deeds, in our very lives, comes not from shortcuts, but from the patient gathering of wisdom over time.

Practical action flows from this truth. Read widely, with curiosity and humility. Do not measure your learning by degrees alone, but by the way it shapes your mind and enriches your expression. Seek not only knowledge that is useful, but wisdom that is enduring. And know that whatever your calling—whether art, teaching, leadership, or service—your work will carry more power if it is rooted in deep learning.

Thus, Robert B. Parker’s words endure as counsel to all who walk the path of knowledge: that the resonance of a life well-lived and a voice well-spoken is born not of titles, but of reading and learning acquired along the way. Let this be remembered by future generations—that every hour spent in learning is a seed planted, and that in time, those seeds will bear fruit in the power of one’s words, one’s art, and one’s life.