Only when we realize that there is no eternal, unchanging truth

Hear the stirring wisdom of Hu Shih, philosopher and reformer of China’s modern awakening: “Only when we realize that there is no eternal, unchanging truth or absolute truth can we arouse in ourselves a sense of intellectual responsibility.” These words are not an invitation to despair, but a call to courage. For Hu Shih saw clearly that if men cling to the illusion of unchanging absolutes, they will grow stagnant, clinging to idols of thought. But if they accept that truth is ever-shifting, ever-evolving, then they will feel the burden to test, to question, to refine, to labor unceasingly in the vineyard of knowledge.

The origin of his thought lay in the early twentieth century, when China was being shaken by turmoil, foreign aggression, and the collapse of dynastic tradition. Hu Shih, influenced by Western pragmatism and his own nation’s struggle for renewal, urged his people to abandon blind devotion to so-called eternal doctrines. He proclaimed that truth must be tested by practice, by reason, by evidence—and that intellectual responsibility lay in constantly questioning what had been handed down. To him, the danger was not that men would fail to find answers, but that they would cease to ask questions.

Consider the tale of Galileo. For centuries, the Church proclaimed an absolute truth: that the Earth was the center of the universe. To question this was heresy. But Galileo, peering through his telescope, saw moons circling Jupiter and planets wandering the sky. He realized that what men called absolute truth was but an error clothed in antiquity. His discovery shattered the illusion of unchanging certainty and aroused in all thinkers a new responsibility: to seek knowledge by observation, not by blind obedience.

So too with Charles Darwin. Before his voyage, it was declared as absolute that each species was fixed from creation. But Darwin’s long study of life revealed that species change, adapt, evolve. Again, the supposed eternal truth fell away, and in its place arose a deeper responsibility: to understand the processes of nature and to let knowledge grow, not by decree, but by inquiry. These examples embody Hu Shih’s insight: when absolutes are dethroned, human beings must take up the mantle of responsibility for learning and discovery.

Yet beware, O seekers, for the temptation of absolutes is ever near. They are comforting, they relieve the mind of toil, they promise stability in a world of change. But they are snares. For when men declare that they hold the eternal and unchanging truth, they close their ears to new voices, they harden their hearts against evidence, and they often wield their false certainty as a weapon. History shows that tyranny is often born from this arrogance. Intellectual humility, however, breeds freedom.

The lesson is clear: do not seek refuge in the illusion of absolute truth, but embrace the noble labor of seeking, questioning, refining. This is intellectual responsibility: to live as students all our days, never content with easy answers, never enslaved by tradition alone. To live thus is to honor both the past and the future, for it is to keep alive the flame of inquiry that burns through the generations.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, let your practice be this: when you are told something is eternal and beyond question, pause, and test it. Ask whether it serves life, justice, and knowledge. Seek evidence. Listen to reason. And when you find new light, do not fear to let it replace the old. For in this way you will honor Hu Shih’s wisdom: that the death of absolutes is not the end of meaning, but the birth of responsibility.

Thus remember: the world does not ask you to cling to unchanging truths, but to grow in wisdom. Take up this sacred task with humility and courage, and you will not only guard your own freedom, but also gift future generations with the living, breathing heritage of inquiry and progress.