Learning is always rebellion... Every bit of new truth discovered

When Margaret Lee Runbeck wrote, “Learning is always rebellion… Every bit of new truth discovered is revolutionary to what was believed before,” she was not merely describing the act of acquiring knowledge—she was describing the fire of transformation that has moved humanity forward since the dawn of reason. Her words carry the force of revelation, for true learning is never passive. It challenges, it questions, it overturns. Each new truth that pierces the veil of ignorance demands courage from the mind that seeks it, for it dares to stand against what was once held sacred. To learn, then, is to rebel—not with violence, but with awakening.

The origin of this wisdom lies in the human spirit’s eternal struggle against complacency. Runbeck, a writer and thinker of the twentieth century, lived through an age of upheaval—of wars, revolutions, and transformations in science and society. She understood that every step forward in understanding is met with resistance, for truth rarely comes gently. Each discovery—whether in science, art, or philosophy—breaks the comfortable chains of old beliefs and forces humanity to see the world anew. Thus, learning becomes an act of bravery, a quiet defiance against the slumber of certainty.

To call learning rebellion is to honor the restlessness of the human mind. Consider the story of Galileo Galilei, who looked through his telescope and beheld the heavens not as they were preached to be, but as they truly were. When he proclaimed that the earth moved around the sun, he was accused of heresy and silenced by the powers of his time. Yet he had touched upon a new truth, and in that moment, he stood as a rebel—not against faith, but against falsehood. His rebellion was not waged with sword or flame, but with observation and thought. His courage lit the path for generations to come, proving that the pursuit of truth is the most sacred form of revolution.

Every great mind has walked this path of rebellion. Socrates drank the cup of hemlock rather than betray the quest for truth. Martin Luther, hammer in hand, nailed his convictions to the church door and ignited reform across continents. Marie Curie, defying both gender and scientific limitation, unveiled the mysteries of radiation and paid for it with her health. Each of them, knowingly or not, embodied Runbeck’s wisdom: that learning reshapes the world and, in doing so, must first destroy the comfort of ignorance. For in every age, the guardians of the old resist the birth of the new, and it is only through struggle that truth prevails.

But the rebellion of learning is not only the work of the famous. It lives also in the hearts of ordinary people—those who question injustice, who unlearn prejudice, who seek to understand what others fear to confront. To learn that all men and women are equal is to rebel against centuries of division. To learn that the earth is fragile and finite is to rebel against the greed that devours it. Every person who dares to think differently, to see beyond the inherited lie, becomes a revolutionary in the quiet kingdom of the mind.

Runbeck’s words remind us, too, that the act of learning demands humility as much as courage. For to learn is to admit that we have been wrong—that what we once believed is incomplete. This is why so many fear it. Yet it is in that very moment of humility that transformation begins. The mind that bows before truth rises higher than it ever stood before. The rebel learner is not arrogant, but awake—aware that truth is never final and that each discovery leads to another horizon.

So let this teaching be passed on as counsel for all seekers: do not fear the rebellion of the mind. Question what you are told, test what you believe, and never mistake comfort for wisdom. The world progresses not by obedience, but by curiosity; not by silence, but by wonder. Learn as though you were lighting a torch in the dark—knowing that each spark you create may unsettle the shadows, but also illuminate the path for others.

For in the end, Margaret Lee Runbeck’s words are not only a reflection—they are a call. She invites each of us to become both student and rebel, to embrace learning as the sacred act of becoming more fully human. Every new truth discovered, no matter how small, shakes the foundations of what was known and builds a stronger, clearer world in its place. To learn, therefore, is to join the eternal revolution of the human spirit—the rebellion not against others, but against the limits of one’s own ignorance.