I was on the UC Berkeley website today, looking for something or other. I noticed a lovely couple of words at the bottom of the site: Fiat Lux. I thought I knew what it meant, and a quick Google proved me right. Fiat Lux is the simplified Latin for “Let there be light.” Fiat lux is the motto of the entire University of California system, and it has been since 1883.

I went down the rabbit hole, and realized that many institutions of higher education, secular and religious alike, use this phrase or some version of it as a credo, or organizing principle. The
phrase originally comes from Genesis 1:3. But the light the mottos refer to is not sunlight; it’s the light of knowledge.

The online brand guide for the University of California system reads, in part:

“The Seal of The Regents contains the words “The Seal of The University of California, 1868” displayed in an arc on the inner rim of the design. In the center, a book is open to a page marked with the letter “A”. The book symbolizes the accumulation and dissemination of knowledge, and the letter “A” signifies the beginning of wisdom. A streamer carrying the words of the University motto, “Fiat Lux,” flows across the lower portion of the book. “Fiat Lux” is translated from the Latin as “Let There Be Light.” Above the book, a five-pointed star with rays of light streaming downward symbolizes the discovery and dissemination of knowledge.”

Back in the 1800s, your seal and motto served the same purpose as vision and mission statements do today. They communicated to your audiences, internally and externally, what you wanted to create, what impact you wanted to have on the world. And they also helped you clearly convey what activities you would do over and over again to create that impact, to bring about the “after” state of the world you envision.

This motto and seal reflected the original vision of the Regents who created the UC system. Their message was that they wanted to create generation after generation of fledgling, wise humans. If they were successful doing what they wanted to do, the result would be “the beginning of wisdom.” Not full-blown, full-fledged wisdom itself. They envisioned being the launchpad for wisdom, not the endpoint for it. I wonder whether this sort of vision statement would ever fly in today’s world, where every organization claims to aim to have the fix for All That Ails the World.

If “the beginning of wisdom” was the vision of the Regents, what was their mission? What were the activities they were planning to do over and over again to create little baby wisdom in the students they served? The accumulation and dissemination of knowledge, which I think means teaching, instruction, education of students. And the discovery and dissemination of knowledge, which probably refers to research and sharing of the results of that research.

I loved learning this, taking this few moments today to stash away a few more facts in my mental Rolodex for my someday plans to appear on Jeopardy. But I couldn’t help but wonder whether the thinking that engaging teaching and research would place students in the starting blocks for the path to wisdom was actually correct.

Of course, knowledge sheds light. Knowledge has value. But knowledge can also create its own form of darkness. This is especially true when the knowledge transmitted seeks to settle, shape or form who we are in some direction other than who we are meant to be. Think of all the writers and inventors who have been tamed into functionaries and day job holders. And it’s also true when our knowledge seeks to tamp us down or otherwise dial down the level of our spiritual shine. Think of Hillary Clinton saying she was taught not to wave her hands when she spoke, because it made men nervous. Think of all of us who have been told we’re too much, and to settle down or simmer down and think this way, speak this way, and whatever you ever do, don’t ask questions, don’t take up space and don’t be so LOUD.

In some traditions, human knowledge itself symbolizes darkness, though that might sound backwards to us. In the story of the Garden of Eden, the forbidden fruit was the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Because it brought knowledge of evil along with the knowledge of good, and it sparked Adam and Eve’s first experience of shame at their pure, beautiful, natural state. And it made them susceptible to the lies and division wrought by that nasty serpent.

In the same vein, writer and teacher don Miguel Ruiz says that our entire lives are our own, individual dreams we build based on Agreements: Beliefs or “knowledge” we are taught by our parents, teachers and culture from the time we are very young. Unfortunately, many of those beliefs are lies, starting with the lie that we are only “good” if we obey, and that we are “bad” if we do things our minders don’t want us to do. He encourages us to experiment with unlearning the false knowledge, unseating ourselves the false Agreements, and then starting over with four core Agreements, aspirations that do lead to wise living:

1. Be impeccable with your word.
2. Don’t take anything personally.
3. Never make assumptions.
4. Always do your best.

Don’t get me wrong; I am a fan of education. I have a passel of degrees myself. Maybe it’s preciselyy because I have them, and because of the life I’ve lived since I earned them, that I agree wholeheartedly with the Regents that knowledge is only the precursor to wisdom. It can put you on the path, but it takes experience to move you forward.

I also agree with don Miguel that sometimes we have to unlearn what we know, or think we know, about the world and about ourselves before we can even get in the waiting room of the house in which wisdom dwells. The irony is that only when experience inspires us to un-teach and unlearn the false knowledge can we find what was there all along: our innate goodness, and an internal wisdom far deeper and more beautiful than anything we can study. Fiat lux.

P.S.: I issued a 30 Day Writing Challenge for Conscious Leaders a few weeks back, and over 150 brilliant souls signed up! I decided to take the Challenge right along with them, and it’s been a profound journey for many of us. Most people are journaling or free-writing every day, privately. I wrote this post on Day 10 of the Challenge. I’ll be doing another writing Challenge in January; click here to get on the list for the January Challenge.