Beyond the "Greek and Latin": What Culture Actually Means

1. Introduction: The Word We Use but Rarely Understand

In the age of curated social media feeds and corporate HR initiatives, "culture" has become an exhausted buzzword. We use it to describe everything from artistic high-browism to the specific vibe of a Silicon Valley startup. Yet, in the 19th century, two intellectual titans—E.B. Tylor and Matthew Arnold—stripped away this superficiality to reveal something far more profound.

Tylor, the father of anthropology, and Arnold, the poet-critic, posed a question that still haunts our digital lives. Is culture a cold science of human behavior to be mapped and measured? Or is it an internal moral effort, a "perfection" we must choose to achieve? Their debate defines the very essence of how we understand our progress as a species today.

2. Culture is a Rigorous Science, Not a List of Facts

E.B. Tylor famously defined Culture or Civilization as a complex whole that includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, and custom. For Tylor, culture was not a trophy cabinet of human achievements, but a field governed by definite laws. He argued that human thought and action follow a sequence of cause and effect as predictable as the growth of plants.

This "science of history" faced immediate backlash from those who championed free will. Critics feared that if human actions were merely the result of natural laws, we would be reduced to "soulless machines." Tylor’s response was a masterclass in intellectual rigor: he argued that every human event has a clear "parentage," and to ignore it is to ignore reality.

The tension here is the "Big Idea" of the 19th century: Tylor sees a scientific sequence, while Arnold sees a moral choice. Without acknowledging these underlying laws, Tylor suggested that the study of humanity loses its foundation. He famously referenced a sharp exchange between James Boswell and Samuel Johnson to illustrate the point.

"Then, sir, you would reduce all history to no better than an almanack."

3. The Surprising Nobility of "Curiosity"

Matthew Arnold began his defense of culture by rehabilitating the word curiosity. In the Victorian era, as in some circles today, curiosity was often dismissed as a "frivolous and unedifying activity." Arnold disagreed, distinguishing between a "bad sense" (aimless nosiness) and a "good sense" (the scientific passion to see things as they really are).

To Arnold, this higher curiosity is the first motive of culture. It is not about hoarding trivia, but about an intelligent eagerness to refine our own nature. This desire to see the world clearly is what allows us to escape the "blind and diseased impulses" that often govern unrefined minds.

Arnold leans on the wisdom of the Enlightenment to ground this claim. He suggests that the true end of study is not the acquisition of facts, but the elevation of the soul.

"The first motive which ought to impel us to study is the desire to augment the excellence of our nature, and to render an intelligent being yet more intelligent." — Montesquieu

4. Perfection is an "Internal Condition," Not an Outward Status

Arnold’s most radical assertion is that culture is a study of perfection. He draws a sharp line between "having" (wealth, status, or credentials) and "becoming." In his view, culture is an internal growth of the mind and spirit—a state of being rather than a collection of assets.

Crucially, Arnold argues that this perfection is not a solitary pursuit. It requires a general expansion of society, where the individual is obliged to carry others along in their progress. To seek perfection in isolation is to become "stunted and enfeebled," as true human growth must be harmonious and shared.

"The kingdom of God is within you; and culture, in like manner, places human perfection in an internal condition, in the growth and predominance of our humanity proper..."

5. The "Machinery" Trap: Wealth and Population are Just Tools

Arnold issued a blistering critique of what he called machinery. He observed that people often mistake the means of civilization for its ends. In the 19th century, the "machinery" was coal, railroads, and industrial wealth; today, it is bandwidth, processing power, and GDP metrics.

He mocked the Philistine—the person of a "coarsely tempered nature," or aphuvia—who believes greatness is proved by being very rich or having a large population. Arnold’s wit is particularly sharp here, imagining the British Philistine presenting himself to the "Great Judge" with twelve children as a matter of right because he was "rich and healthy."

Culture, Arnold argues, is the force that prevents the future from being entirely "vulgarised" by this obsession with tools. He challenged his audience to ask if a nation rich in "machinery" is truly greater than one characterized by "splendid spiritual effort."

6. "Sweetness and Light": The Ultimate Characters of Perfection

To describe the ideal human state, Arnold used the phrase Sweetness and Light. He borrowed this term from Jonathan Swift’s Battle of the Books to represent the union of beauty (sweetness) and intelligence (light). This is the state of the euphuia, or the "finely tempered nature."

Arnold believed that while religion and culture share the same goal of perfection, culture acts as a necessary "benefactor." He argued that religious zeal, such as Puritanism, is often "overhasty" in action and prone to fanaticism. Culture provides the "harmony" that raw religious zeal lacks, insisting that we must think deeply before we act.

By embracing both sweetness and light, we avoid the trap of "mechanical" religion. Culture allows us to refine our moral fiber while also ensuring our lives are beautiful, graceful, and intelligent.

7. Conclusion: The Ongoing Pursuit of Perfection

The tension between Tylor and Arnold remains the defining struggle of our modern world. Tylor provides the "Science of Law," a reminder that our actions are part of a connected, predictable sequence of cause and effect. Arnold provides the "Study of Perfection," a moral framework that demands we exert our free will to improve our internal condition.

As we navigate an era obsessed with the "machinery" of productivity—apps, metrics, and material growth—we risk losing our humanity. We are surrounded by more "light" in the form of information than ever before, yet we often lack the "sweetness" of harmony and beauty.

The works of these two thinkers challenge us to look past the tools we use and focus on the people we are becoming. In an age obsessed with the "machinery" of productivity, are we neglecting the internal condition that actually makes us human?

Reference

Tylor EB (1871). Excerpts from Primitive Culture. London: John Murray, 1-4.

Arnold M (1869). “Sweetness and Light.” Culture and Anarchy. London: Smith,

Elder & Co., 2-51.