
In high school speech class, when required to give an informative speech, I described the accomplishments of the Anasazi. My speech teacher, whose total pre-Columbian knowledge probably included a few facts about the Mayans and Aztecs asked a pointed question. “What’s the purpose of your speech? Why are these Anasa…. whatever, people important?”
On my family’s visit to Mesa Verde a few years prior, I had been impressed by this ancient civilization. We got to carefully climb up ladders to peer into apartment complexes they built out of clay covered stones and timber. At the top of the cliffs were remnants of an irrigation system that allowed the Anasazi to farm in a semi-arid climate. We saw the beginnings of a road system that crossed the southwest. These achievements did not happen in the last century, but over a thousand years ago. They had figured out how to survive in a semi-desert and flourish to the point of trading with people as distant as those civilizations in Mexico.
My speech teacher was asking a version of many students’ perennial query, “Why do I need to know this?” This was an informative speech and not a persuasive one aimed at convincing anyone to change or take action. I did not harp on my admiration of the Anasazi like so many “amazing histories” that are divulged on social media. I was not trying to prove anything about my ancestor’s greatness because as far as I know, there are no Anasazi ancestors in my lineage. I could have voiced my opinion about the great advancements of this long gone civilization. Would it have made any difference to my teacher?
The importance of events is subjective and based on individual views. I tended to take a classicist view that compared people and events throughout time to create an understanding of the nature of civilization. Classic knowledge can be more widely applied as it deals with similar events affecting far flung populations over time. Seeking it has helped me develop conflicts in my current novel in progress, which is set in the time when Arthur was supposed to have grown up and inherited the kingdom in Camelot. That is, if King Arthur or Camelot ever existed. This work is not written as a fantasy but a realistic story.
The post-Roman period in Britain is the source of legends with scant historical records. The kind of information I seek is specifics about general needs. How would travelers survive in fifth century Wales and Cornwall? Did a version of rooms to rent or pubs exist? Would they bargain for nights in thatched-roof stone huts in exchange for a pair of grouse they had caught? Does traveling present new dangers I never considered? General knowledge, such as how to survive in a different climate or possible hostile culture, would be useful.

Let’s return to my high school speech teacher, who wanted to know what difference the knowledge of the past would make in this current world. People who seek out the latest trends or important current events tend to gather information from only one place, one culture or environment for a very specific time. This knowledge is specific. But the value of information garnered because it’s all over the news right now, fades over time.

Measuring importance requires learning to balance the latest news with that which has proven useful over generations. The Internet abounds with trends: popular fashion, escapades of a performer, the latest gross or terrifying news story, or advance is Artificial Intelligence. Each of those has a momentary importance. But we don’t know what will fade from view within a year.
As I watch our society’s mad dash for the cutting edge, I find a particular quote by C.S. Lewis to be quite applicable to the dilemma of determining relevance of events as they occur – even though this was written concerning newspapers, not the Internet.
“Nearly all that a boy reads there in his teens will be known before he is twenty to have been false in emphasis and interpretation, if not in fact as well, and most of it will have lost all importance. Most of what he remembers he will therefore have to unlearn; and he will probably have acquired an incurable taste for vulgarity and sensationalism and the fatal habit of fluttering from paragraph to paragraph to learn how an actress has been divorced in California, a train derailed in France, and quadruplets born in New Zealand.”
Quote from Lewis, C.S. Surprised by Joy Harcourt Brace Jovanovich: 1955 p.159








