One goes through school, college, medical school and one's

In the quiet halls of learning, where ambition often outshines virtue, Ashley Montagu spoke a truth that pierces both heart and mind: “One goes through school, college, medical school and one’s internship learning little or nothing about goodness but a good deal about success.” These words reveal a deep fracture in the foundation of modern education—the separation of knowledge from wisdom, of achievement from goodness. Montagu, an anthropologist who studied the essence of humanity, reminds us that true greatness lies not in what we know or earn, but in how we treat others and what kind of soul we cultivate along the way.

In the ancient world, education was not meant to produce specialists or competitors, but balanced human beings. In Greece, the philosophers of the Academy and the Lyceum taught that the highest aim of learning was virtue—arete, the excellence of character that aligned mind and spirit with the good of the polis. Likewise, in ancient China, Confucius taught that study was meaningless if it did not shape the heart toward righteousness and compassion. But Montagu’s lament shows that modern institutions have forgotten this heritage. In their pursuit of success, they have turned the temple of learning into a marketplace of credentials.

His mention of medical school is especially poignant. Medicine, once a sacred calling rooted in compassion and healing, has too often become entangled in prestige, profit, and competition. Students study the chemistry of the body but not the mystery of empathy; they memorize the anatomy of the heart but neglect its moral counterpart. Montagu’s words serve as both warning and plea: that to heal without humanity is to practice an empty art. True education, he reminds us, should awaken the conscience as much as the intellect.

History gives us examples of both the fall and redemption of this truth. Consider Albert Schweitzer, the German theologian and physician who left a life of acclaim in Europe to serve as a doctor in Africa. His philosophy of “reverence for life” was born not from academic theory but from compassion—a recognition that knowledge without kindness is barren. Schweitzer’s journey embodies what Montagu calls us to remember: that goodness is not an elective in the curriculum of life; it is the foundation upon which all learning must rest.

The deeper meaning of Montagu’s words extends beyond medicine to all fields of endeavor. We live in a world that prizes the measure of success—titles, wealth, and influence—while often overlooking the moral cost at which they are gained. A student may climb to the top of every academic ladder, yet remain ignorant of humility and love. A professional may master every technique, yet fail to master himself. Such imbalance leads not to greatness but to emptiness, for success without goodness is like a body without breath.

Yet Montagu’s reflection is not condemnation—it is a call to renewal. He believed that humanity is capable of growth, that the mind can be taught to feel as deeply as it thinks. To rediscover goodness, we must reimagine what it means to educate. We must teach not only science but empathy, not only skill but conscience, not only ambition but service. Knowledge must once again be wedded to virtue, for the world’s survival depends as much on moral intelligence as on technical brilliance.

For those who seek to walk wisely in this age, the lesson is simple yet profound: do not let success define your worth. Seek instead to cultivate goodness, the quiet force that sustains all things of value. Let learning refine not only your intellect but your character. Practice kindness as diligently as you study, and measure progress not by what you achieve, but by what you give.

Thus, Ashley Montagu’s words echo as a timeless teaching: “One learns little about goodness but much about success.” Let us reverse that imbalance. For it is not the clever, but the compassionate, who keep the world alive. The truest education begins not in the classroom, but in the heart that refuses to forget its humanity.