That subject has lost its one time appeal to economists as our

Listen closely, O Seekers of Knowledge and Truth, for the words of George Stigler reflect a profound shift in the nature of economics and our understanding of science: "That subject has lost its one-time appeal to economists as our science has become more abstract, but my interest has even grown more intense as the questions raised by the sociology of science became more prominent." These words are a call to recognize the changing nature of knowledge, and how even the most abstract disciplines, like economics, must grapple with the deeper questions of how and why science evolves, how it influences society, and how our understanding of truth is shaped by the context in which it is produced.

In ancient times, the great thinkers and philosophers did not separate the study of science from the study of the human condition. Socrates sought to understand not just the world around him, but the very nature of knowledge and how it could be used to shape society. Plato, his student, emphasized the idea that knowledge was not merely a pursuit of facts, but an understanding of the forms, the deeper, eternal truths that governed all things. In this way, science and philosophy were seen not as distinct pursuits, but as intertwined, each shedding light on the other. But as Stigler notes, the pursuit of economics—once closely tied to the study of human behavior and society—became increasingly abstract, moving away from its roots in the practical realities of life.

Yet, in this shift toward abstraction, something important was lost. Stigler points to a growing interest in the sociology of science, which asks not only what we know, but how we come to know it. This shift is akin to the ancient philosophers' reflections on the role of the thinker in shaping society. Sociology of science is a modern attempt to answer these same questions, not by focusing solely on the facts, but by understanding the context in which those facts are discovered, the forces that shape our questions, and the institutions that guide the development of knowledge. In this way, Stigler suggests, even as economics became more abstract, the underlying questions about knowledge and science grew only more relevant.

Consider the example of Isaac Newton, whose work laid the foundation for modern physics. Newton’s laws of motion and universal gravitation changed the way we viewed the world, but Newton himself was also deeply engaged in questions of alchemy, the mystical and abstract study of transformation. Newton's mind was not merely scientific, but philosophical—he sought not just to understand the physical world, but to understand the very nature of truth and reality. The questions that Stigler refers to—the sociology of science—reflect the same interest in understanding not just what we know, but how and why we come to know it. Newton’s work was not just a product of mathematical rigor, but also of the historical and intellectual climate in which he lived.

The shift that Stigler observes in economics and science can be compared to the ancient wisdom that saw knowledge as a holistic pursuit, one that engaged not just with the world, but with the very nature of the mind and society. Economics, as Stigler notes, may have become more abstract, but it is the deeper questions raised by the sociology of science that bring us closer to understanding the true purpose of scientific inquiry. Why do we choose to ask certain questions? What societal needs, values, and structures shape the direction of our inquiry? And how does the very system of knowledge impact the world around us? These are the questions that take us beyond mere data and formulas, pushing us to understand not only the world but our place in it.

The lesson here, O Seekers, is that knowledge is never neutral. It is shaped by the context in which it is produced, by the society that funds and supports it, and by the underlying values that guide it. Just as Stigler reflects on the abstract nature of modern economics, we too must ask ourselves how the questions we pursue—whether in science, philosophy, or art—are shaped by the forces that surround us. Knowledge is not just a collection of facts, but a reflection of the world in which it is created. To understand truth, we must also understand the sociology of science—the ways in which society, culture, and history shape our questions and our answers.

In your own lives, O Children, remember this: seek not just knowledge for its own sake, but seek to understand the forces that shape the knowledge you acquire. Question the context, question the assumptions, and question the institutions that guide your learning. Whether in economics, science, or any other pursuit, strive to understand not just the facts, but the deeper forces that shape the world of knowledge. The pursuit of truth requires not only intellectual rigor but a deep awareness of the world that forms the foundation of that knowledge. Only then can you truly understand not just what you know, but why you know it.

Let this wisdom guide you, O Seekers, as you pursue the knowledge of the world. Do not let it remain an abstract pursuit, disconnected from the very forces that shape it. Engage not only with the facts but with the questions, the assumptions, and the contexts that give birth to those facts. In this way, you will understand not only the world around you, but the very forces that shape the knowledge that defines it. The journey toward wisdom is not just one of discovery, but one of reflection—on both the world and the way we come to know it.