The University as Cosmopolis
From drift to renewal: forming scholars, institutions, and cultures that refuse half-measures
Introduction: In my previous post, I discussed the concept of Cosmopolis. This essay explores how the university can become that patient, truth-oriented center: a Cosmopolis that mediates between common sense and theory, preserves long-term vision amid short-term pressures, and sustains intellectual and moral progress across generations. In doing so, we follow the reflective, institutional-renewal tone of "Building the Not-Numerous Center," asking how academic leaders might reimagine the university not as a neutral service provider but as Cosmopolis in action.
1. Conceptual Foundations: Lonergan's Cosmopolis and the "Not-Numerous Center"
As a reminder, Bernard Lonergan introduces Cosmopolis as a response to the biases that drive communities into decline. In Insight, Lonergan portrays Cosmopolis as a higher cultural consciousness that "withdraws from practicality to save practicality," operating not by political decree but by intellectual and moral leadership[2][3]. Cosmopolis is not a formal organization or a ruling academy; it has no members or legal authority. Instead, it is "a dimension of consciousness, a heightened grasp of historical origins, a discovery of historical responsibilities" [4]. It works by spreading ideas that correct bias and envision creative solutions – ideas which, under the general bias of common sense, would otherwise be dismissed or ignored. As Lonergan puts it, "culture (art, religion, philosophy, journalism) must be freed from the need to justify itself to the practical mind," because the general bias of short-term common sense can hold culture captive[5]. Cosmopolis thus operates at a remove from immediate practical concerns to serve them in the long run[6]. Its hallmark is patient difficulty: "Finally, it would be unfair not to stress the chief characteristic of Cosmopolis. It is not easy" [3].
In a time of cultural breakdown, he predicted that neither reactionary traditionalists nor restless innovators would secure progress. Instead, what counts is a small but vital center that bridges the gap[1]. This center is "at home in both the old and the new," able to learn from the wisdom of traditions yet open to novel insights[1]. It works "one by one" through necessary transitions, refusing the temptation of quick fixes or partisan half-measures[7]. And it has the strength to "insist on complete solutions even though it has to wait" [8] – meaning it prefers slow, genuine progress to expedient compromises. Such a center exemplifies intellectual and moral conversion, the personal transformations Lonergan saw as essential for authentic progress.
Lonergan identified three key conversions – intellectual, moral, and religious (or spiritual) – which together foster the capacity to inhabit that higher viewpoint:
Intellectual conversion involves a radical shift in our understanding of knowing and truth. It is the hard-won self-appropriation of our cognition: moving from a commonsense or fragmented view of knowledge to an integrated one where we recognize the mind's intrinsic norms of being attentive, intelligent, and reasonable[9]. An intellectually converted scholar learns to value truth over ego and to distinguish genuine insight from mere hypothesis or assumption. In a university context, intellectual conversion enables researchers and students to question their own assumptions and engage in deeper learning, all with a humble approach. It corresponds to critical self-reflection and openness to truth wherever it leads.
Moral conversion is a shift in our criteria of decision-making – from valuing mere self-interest or satisfaction to valuing what is truly good and worthwhile[10]. A morally converted person is "committed to values above mere satisfactions" [11]. For academics, this means prioritizing honesty, rigor, and the common good over careerism or convenience. Moral conversion in a university might manifest as a campus culture of integrity: doing research ethically, treating colleagues and students with justice, and focusing on meaningful scholarship rather than prestige alone. It is a habit of choosing value over expediency.
Religious or spiritual conversion (Lonergan also calls it affective conversion) is an orientation of one's whole person toward ultimate meaning and love. It "relies on the love of neighbor, community, and God to heal bias and prioritize values" [12]. In secular terms, we might speak of this as a deep orientation toward hope, purpose, and solidarity with humanity. It imbues scholars with humility and a sense of service to something greater than themselves. A spiritually converted university would encourage hope and openness – perhaps not any single creed, but an ethos that knowledge serves transcendent ends (truth, justice, human dignity). This conversion underpins the courage to pursue truth wherever it leads, sustained by faith that doing so matters for the world.
These three conversions map onto the formation of scholars, students, and academic culture. A university aspiring to be Cosmopolis must cultivate all three: intellectual conversion through rigorous inquiry and self-critique; moral conversion through emphasis on ethics and the intrinsic goods of knowledge; and spiritual conversion by fostering a sense of higher purpose or vocation in its community. In sum, Lonergan's Cosmopolis is both a diagnosis and a prognosis: it diagnoses the ills of bias and short-sightedness, and it proposes that a converted, not-numerous center can rescue progress. The following sections explore how the modern university might embody this idea.
2. Bias in the University Context: Identifying the Challenges
Before envisioning the university as a cosmopolitan center, we must confront the reality of biases within academia itself. Lonergan outlined several types of bias – notably individual, group, and general bias – that distort inquiry and precipitate decline. Unfortunately, universities are not immune to these maladies. Indeed, many current crises in higher education can be traced to exactly these biases warping academic priorities. Let us consider each in turn, with concrete examples:
Individual bias (egoism and careerism): Academia is rife with personal pressures that can compromise honest inquiry. The pursuit of tenure, promotions, grants, and reputation can become an end in itself, tempting scholars to prioritize self-advancement over the disinterested search for truth. Academic careerism has been defined as "the tendency of academics to pursue their own enrichment and self-advancement at the expense of honest inquiry, unbiased research, and dissemination of truth" [13]. We see this when researchers choose "safe" topics likely to get published rather than essential questions, or when they cut corners in experiments to rush out results. The notorious "publish or perish" culture exemplifies individual bias: scientists lament that relentless publication and funding pressures incentivize superficial, short-term research and even contribute to a reproducibility crisis in science[14]. In a 2016 survey, over 70% of researchers reported they could not replicate another scientist's work, and most blamed the "infamous 'publish or perish' research culture" for undermining quality[14]. Similarly, status games like chasing prestigious journal placements can distort judgment, as scholars might favor trendy topics or positive results that editors prefer. The result is a deformation of academic purpose – knowledge becomes a means to personal success, rather than personal success being a byproduct of contributing to knowledge. This individual bias, if unchecked, erodes the integrity and trustworthiness of university research.
Group bias (tribalism and silos): Alongside personal egoism, academia suffers from group biases. This appears in the form of disciplinary silos, departmental turf wars, cliques of scholars who reinforce each other's views, or ideological camps on campus that won't engage in genuine dialogue. Universities are often organized into rigid departments, each with its own priorities, funding, and governance, which makes collaboration across fields difficult[15]. Faculty may become so immersed in their subfield's methods and jargon that they dismiss perspectives from other disciplines. Interdisciplinary initiatives, when attempted, are frequently undervalued or even resisted – seen as "less rigorous" or a threat to departmental resources[16][15]. For example, a professor who wants to co-teach a course bridging, say, biology and philosophy might face scheduling conflicts, a lack of credit toward tenure for such work, and skepticism from colleagues entrenched in more narrowly defined research[15][17]. The result is a fragmentation of knowledge: significant problems that span multiple domains (climate change, inequality, public health, etc.) are tackled in a piecemeal fashion, if at all, because no single silo can encompass them. Group bias also emerges in ideological polarization on campus. Entire departments can sometimes develop a dominant ideological bent – whether explicit (e.g., a particular economic or political theory) or implicit – and may marginalize or hire only those who conform. Such intellectual echo chambers stifle the very debate and self-critique that lead to new insights. When group bias takes hold, the university loses its broader mediating role and becomes just a collection of competing factions, each guarding its territory.
General bias (short-term pragmatism and utilitarianism): The third form of bias Lonergan noted is a general bias of common sense – a societal tendency to discount long-term and theoretical concerns in favor of immediate practical gains. In the university context, this appears as the pressure to treat education purely as job training or to prioritize research with instant applications at the expense of fundamental inquiry. We see signs of general bias in how universities market themselves and allocate resources: an ever-greater emphasis on producing "work-ready" graduates, on majors that lead directly to high-paying jobs, and on research that can yield quick commercial or technological payoffs. Of course, practical relevance is not bad – but when it narrows the university's mission to only what is immediately marketable, the deeper purposes of higher education are eroded. As one governance expert notes, "colleges often focus on programs that look like job training, which is not what employers say they want" [18]. Higher education's obsession with quarterly outcomes (enrollment numbers, placement stats, rankings) can lead to neglect of unquantifiable goods like character formation, civic education, or blue-sky research whose benefits might only emerge decades later. For instance, humanities and pure sciences often find themselves on the defensive, justified only insofar as they can be tied to current labor market needs. This orientation is a manifestation of Lonergan's general bias: the richness of culture and theory forced to "justify itself to the practical mind" [5]. When universities yield entirely to this bias, they risk becoming glorified vocational institutes or corporate R&D arms, losing their role as society's long-term memory and imagination. A dramatic example is how funding floods into applied fields like AI engineering or finance (with immediate industry payoff) while foundational fields like philosophy or pure mathematics struggle – even though the latter cultivate critical thinking and innovation that society will desperately need in the long run.
Examples of decline: These biases have contributed to real crises in contemporary higher ed. The replication crisis in psychology and biomedicine – where many published findings turned out unreliable – is frequently blamed on the "publish-or-perish" mentality that prioritizes quantity of output over careful quality[14]. Group biases have led to high-profile clashes and stagnant debates: consider disciplines that split into hostile camps (e.g., economics feuding between classical and heterodox schools, or sociology's quantitative vs qualitative divide), where each side dismisses insights of the other, hampering genuine progress. The scandal of particular business and engineering programs being overly influenced by corporate sponsors can illustrate general bias – research agendas get skewed toward the immediate interests of funders, sidelining questions of public good or ethics. Even student life reflects these biases: students often feel torn between learning for its own sake and the pressure to pad résumés; between exploring diverse ideas and sticking to a safe ideological circle. When a narrow focus on practical outcomes dominates, students can graduate technically skilled but lacking the integrative thinking and ethical grounding that authentic leadership requires. All these trends – careerism, siloization, short-termism – indicate a drift from the university's deeper mission. They are precisely the tendeCosmopolisopolis is meant to counter.
3. The University as a Cosmopolitan Function: Mediating Common Sense and Theory
How, then, could the university act as a Cosmopolis, correcting these biases and reversing decline? One key role Lonergan assigns to Cosmopolis is to mediate between everyday common sense and the world of theory[5]. In society at large, common sense is concerned with practical, immediate needs and often mistrusts abstract theory – whereas scientists and scholars operate in highly specialized, theoretical realms frequently disconnected from everyday understanding. This gap can breed mutual suspicion: the public grows skeptical of ivory-tower academics, and academics sometimes grow disdainful of lay knowledge. A cosmopolitan university would strive to bridge this divide, ensuring that rigorous theory remains connected to human meaning and that common sense is elevated by insight rather than hardened into ignorance.
Accessibility and Rigor: To mediate between common sense and theory, universities must become bilingual – fluent in both the language of the street and the language of the lab. This could mean encouraging faculty to communicate their research in accessible ways and rewarding those who engage the public. For example, rather than only valuing conference presentations for peers, a cosmopolitan scholar might also give public lectures at local libraries or write op-eds explaining what their findings mean for everyday life[19]. Such outreach is not a trivial extra; it is part of the core mission of making knowledge a common good rather than a private dialect. Likewise, teaching should not be an afterthought to research but a coequal duty through which professors translate complex ideas into pedagogical common sense for students. The university can provide structures for this mediation: centers for science communication, incentives for interdisciplinary teaching that connect theory to real-world issues, and platforms (like open-access journals or public seminar series) to share ideas beyond campus. By deliberately straddling rigor and accessibility, the university as Cosmopolis counters the general bias – it "withdraws" a bit from immediate practical frenzy (insisting on depth and theoretical integrity) yet returns with insights made understandable and relevant to society[6].
Structures for genuine progress: A cosmopolitan university would also design its internal structures to sponsor long-term progress and resist capture by passing factions or fads. One principle might be to diversify oversight and input. For instance, universities could form cross-disciplinary councils that periodically review major research programs and curricula for bias or blind spots. Such councils, comprised of faculty from various fields (and perhaps external experts or alumni), could act as an internal cosmopolitan senate – mediating between different specialized perspectives and the broader mission. Their task would be to ask: "Are we missing something important? Are our priorities skewed by fashion or interest? What needs to be questioned?" This resonates with Lonergan's idea that Cosmopolis does not rule by force but by ideas – it identifies the ideas that general bias suppresses and finds ways to bring them to the fore[5][2]. In practice, this could mean creating funding pools for high-risk, high-reward research that might not win immediate grants, to ensure groundbreaking ideas aren't strangled by short-term metrics. It could also involve rotation of leadership positions (department chairs, deans) to prevent any one clique from entrenching power – fresh leadership can bring new perspectives and guard against group bias becoming institutionalized.
Feedback loops for bias correction: The university-as-Cosmopolis would build explicit feedback loops to catch and correct bias. One model could be akin to the Jesuit practice of the examen (a regular reflective self-examination). Applied institutionally, a university might hold an annual "Bias Review" retreat: stakeholders gather to reflect candidly on where the university might be drifting off mission. Are we overlooking specific disciplines? Are we failing to serve some student populations? Has short-term thinking influenced our decisions this year? By making bias-detection a routine process (rather than waiting for a crisis), the institution acknowledges that it, too, is a historical actor prone to blind spots. Another feedback mechanism is the stronger integration of student and community voices. Students often see hypocrisies or emerging needs that faculty leadership might miss. A cosmopolitan approach would empower student representatives not just on token committees, but in genuine dialogue about the direction of the institution. Likewise, universities can invite external critique: maybe a panel of public intellectuals or diverse alumni periodically examines whether academic programs remain connected to real societal needs (without succumbing to populist demands).
One practical example is how some universities now conduct "mission reviews" or invite accreditation teams to give holistic feedback. A cosmopolis-university would treat these not as box-checking but as opportunities to surface biases. If, say, an accreditation report finds that a university's research output is excellent but only in narrow areas with industry funding, that is a cue to ask how the pursuit of grants might be biasing the research agenda – and then to self-correct by investing more in fundamental or neglected fields. In summary, by institutionalizing critical self-reflection, the university can emulate Cosmopolis's work of "making operative the ideas that, in the light of the general bias of common sense, are inoperative" [20]. It becomes a mediator between short-term common sense and long-term reason, between partisan extremes and a larger viewpoint.
4. Institutional Design & Lonergan's Functional Specialties: A New Workflow for Inquiry
Lonergan not only diagnosed problems, but also proposed a method for collaborative progress: the idea of eight functional specialties in theology, introduced in Method in Theology. These functional specialties – Research, Interpretation, History, Dialectic, Foundations, Doctrines, Systematics, Communications – are essentially an organized workflow for a community of inquiry[21][22]. They ensure that scholars systematically cover all tasks from investigating data to reflecting on values and communicating conclusions. While Lonergan devised them for theological scholarship, the approach is profoundly generalizable. We can imagine a university adapting this eight-fold method as an alternative to the disjointed "publish-or-perish" treadmill, integrating disciplines and restoring public trust through a transparent, comprehensive approach to knowledge. Here's a brief look at each specialty and its academic application:
Research: Gathering evidence, data, and insights from primary sources or experiments. In a university setting, this corresponds to all the investigations – scientific experiments, archival research, field studies, surveys – that form the raw material of knowledge. It values empirical rigor and curiosity.
Interpretation: Making sense of the data by interpreting texts, results, and experiences. Academics translate raw findings into meaningful patterns or narratives. For example, a historian interprets archival documents' significance; a physicist interprets experimental results via theory. Multiple perspectives might be employed here to avoid one-dimensional readings.
History: Placing knowledge in context by understanding how ideas and situations developed over time. This step acknowledges that any issue (scientific, social, or intellectual) has a history that must be understood to avoid repeating errors. In an institutional workflow, this could mean literature reviews, historiography of a problem, or situating research in the broader timeline of a field. It guards against the bias of presentism.
Dialectic: Confronting and resolving conflicts or differences in viewpoint. Lonergan's dialectic stage is explicit: scholars bring together differing evaluations and accounts to sort out contradictions[23][24]. Within a university inquiry, this could take the form of interdisciplinary seminars or debates where, say, an economist, a sociologist, and an ethicist examine a complex issue like poverty from their angles, identify where their conclusions clash, and work through why. The dialectic function is crucial for surfacing bias: it forces recognition of divergent assumptions and asks which viewpoints might be more adequate. Lonergan notes that the most radical divergences come from differences in conversion (intellectual, moral, etc.)[25]; a structured dialectic allows converted (more unbiased) horizons to challenge lesser ones[26]. In a cosmopolis-university, something like a "dialectical forum" could be built into major research projects – ensuring internal critique and diversity of thought before conclusions are solidified.
Foundations: After the dialectic, participants clarify and choose fundamental principles or a standpoint. In Lonergan's terms, they make explicit their commitments and the horizon (worldview) they will operate from[27]. In a university process, this might mean formulating the values or axioms that the research or policy will take as a base, informed by the dialectical self-critique. For example, after interdisciplinary debate, a team researching climate change might explicitly commit to a foundation: "We value sustainability and justice for future generations, and we acknowledge the scientific consensus on warming." Foundations, thus, is a self-aware stance that incorporates intellectual, moral, and even spiritual conversion. It's like setting the North Star before moving ahead – making sure the work rests on authentic and transparent values, not on unexamined biases.
Doctrines (or Policy/Plans): Given the foundations, this stage formulates specific proposals, doctrines, or models to address the issue at hand[22]. In theology, "doctrines" are teachings; in academia more broadly, we can think of this as drawing conclusions or making recommendations. It could be a theory in science, a policy recommendation in public policy, a philosophical thesis – the fruit of the prior stages, now explicitly articulated. Importantly, because it comes after foundations, these doctrines should carry the weight of the careful reflective process behind them (not just quick hypotheses).
Systematics: Here, the various doctrines or insights are integrated into a coherent system or framework[21]. For a university, this stage would encourage connecting the dots across disciplines. It asks, "How do our conclusions fit together into a unified understanding?" In practice, this might result in a multidisciplinary report or a book that synthesizes findings from science, ethics, history, etc., into a comprehensive view – accessible to intelligent readers of all backgrounds. Systematics prevents the fragmentation of knowledge; it insists on the intelligibility of the whole.
Communications: Finally, the results are communicated to those who need to hear them – within and beyond academia[21]. This method means tailoring the message to different audiences: scholarly publications for specialists (to invite further scrutiny), but also policy briefs for decision-makers, public articles for laypeople, and educational materials for students. In the functional specialties approach, Communications is not an afterthought but a dedicated function, recognizing that a discovery doesn't truly contribute to progress until it is understood and implemented by the wider community. For a university, emphasizing this stage could rebuild public trust: instead of knowledge staying locked in journals, it actively reaches society. (Imagine, for instance, a university where every major research project has a public-facing component – a website, a community forum, a dataset released for public use. This transparency and engagement fulfill the mediating role of Cosmopolis.)
By implementing something like Lonergan's eightfold method, universities could counteract the haphazard "produce papers fast" model with a more deliberate, collaborative, and reflective workflow. It is noteworthy that Lonergan warned that these functional specialties are not just parallel silos or new departments[22]. They are tasks that the same group of scholars may undertake sequentially, or that different specialists coordinate on, but always in relationship. In other words, it's a process, not a bureaucracy. Adopting such a process in academia would mean, for example, that a research grant isn't considered done when results are published. It would be complete when those results have been debated (dialectic), value-checked (foundations), integrated (systematics), and communicated broadly. This could alleviate the publish-or-perish pathologies by focusing on knowledge quality and impact rather than volume. It might also restore trust by making the stages of knowledge creation visible and participatory, rather than a black box that churns out occasional press releases. As one interpreter notes, Lonergan's grouping is about how "we actually do better… not a recipe for better living, but an explanation of how the mind and heart work whenever we actually improve life" [22]. Imagine if universities explicitly self-organized around "improving life" in this structured way – they would truly function as cosmopolitan centers of insight in society.
5. Case Studies & Comparative Models: Lessons from History and Today
The idea of the university as Cosmopolis may sound radical, but it resonates with historical precedents and contemporary experiments. At various moments, educational institutions have acted as centers of integration and progress – essentially playing a cosmopolitan role in their eras. By examining these cases, we can glean lessons and see that Lonergan's vision is not utopian fancy but a reclaiming of the university's highest potential.
Historical exemplars:
Medieval Universities (12th–15th centuries): The earliest universities in Bologna, Paris, Oxford, and elsewhere were born as cosmopolitan institutions at the crossroads of old and new. They inherited the classical and biblical knowledge of antiquity (the "old") and were confronted with discoveries and cultural needs of a changing medieval society (the "new"). Medieval curricula embraced the liberal arts as a unified foundation, integrating theology, philosophy, and emerging natural science into a holistic worldview[28]. Knowledge was seen as interconnected – studying nature was also a way to understand divine order, and vice versa[28]. These universities were few (not numerous) but profoundly influential centers that mediated between tradition and innovation: for example, when Aristotle's works were rediscovered in the 13th century, it was the University of Paris's scholars (like Thomas Aquinas) who painstakingly worked out a synthesis between Aristotelian philosophy (new to medieval Europe) and Christian theology (the inherited tradition). In doing so, they corrected many biases of their time – irrational superstitions on one hand and overly rigid dogmas on the other – by insisting on reasoned, complete solutions grounded in both faith and reason. The medieval university's approach to knowledge as a unified whole began to erode later with hyper-specialization. Still, in its prime, it offers a model of a university cosmopolis, balancing continuity and change.
Renaissance & Early-Modern Academies: During the Renaissance, learning often flourished in academies and scholarly societies that cut across the emerging divides of discipline. The Platonic Academy in Florence (15th century) brought together thinkers to discuss philosophy, poetry, science, and art, sparking creativity that defined the Renaissance humanism. Later, the 17th-century scientific academies (like the Royal Society in England or the Accademia dei Lincei in Italy) explicitly sought to break free of old scholastic constraints and investigate the new sciences – yet many members were also well-versed in the humanities, aiming for a complete vision. These academies acted as incubators of new knowledge (Scientific Revolution) and at the same time custodians of rigorous method. A striking insight from recent scholarship is that Renaissance academies, whether humanistic or scientific, shared a "common institutional culture" that refused to acknowledge strict disciplinary divides[29]. Academies of literature, art, and philosophy contributed to new art forms and ideas, while scientific academies legitimized new empirical methods[29]. Often, the same people traversed both worlds. This was the era of the "Renaissance man" – thinkers like Leonardo da Vinci or Galileo who exemplified breadth and integration. While we cannot revert to a time when one polymath could master all knowledge, the spirit of the Renaissance academy – collaborative, objectivity-seeking across disciplines[29] – is worth emulating. Those institutions were small circles (indeed "not numerous"), yet their influence on societal progress was enormous. They also faced challenges (some became elitist or were co-opted by patrons), but their legacy shows the power of an intellectual cosmopolis uniting science and the humanities.
Humboldt's Reforms (early 19th century): A pivotal case for the modern university is Wilhelm von Humboldt's founding of the University of Berlin in 1810. Humboldt reimagined the university with two core principles: academic freedom and the unity of teaching and research. He insisted that the university's mission was not mere vocational training or passive transmission of known facts, but the active creation of knowledge (research) intertwined with education[30]. This was revolutionary – before, many universities had been mostly teaching institutions. After Humboldt, the model of a research university took hold, aligning with what Lonergan would call an orientation to long-term discovery rather than short-term utility. Humboldt believed seeing research and teaching as opposed was a false dichotomy[31]. By having professors both investigate and teach, students would learn not just facts but the spirit of inquiry itself. The Humboldtian university thus acted as a mediator between new knowledge and the next generation, and between specialized discovery and general education. It also emphasized breadth: students should receive a well-rounded formation (Universitas litterarum, the unity of all knowledge) even as they specialize[32]. This model spread worldwide and became the template for modern higher education. Over time, it has been distorted in some places (with research and teaching often split or research prioritized to the detriment of teaching), but the ideal remains powerful. Recapturing Humboldt's vision, one scholar argues, could help resolve today's perceived conflict between specialized research and broad education – what many see as a tension, Humboldt saw as a synergy[31]. His reforms also introduced the concept of academic freedom – freeing scholars from church or state dictates – which is essential for a cosmopolis function, allowing the pursuit of truth wherever it leads. The lesson here is that institutional design matters: structure the mission and incentives correctly, and a university can be a haven for independent, integrated thought. Many American and global research universities still cite Humboldt as inspiration; to truly channel Cosmopolis, they may need to renew those commitments to holistic knowledge and freedom, especially under today's pressures.
Contemporary models and experiments:
Interdisciplinary Institutes: In recent decades, we've seen the rise of institutes and centers explicitly designed to tackle complex global challenges by transcending departmental boundaries. One example is the Santa Fe Institute (SFI), founded in 1984 as an independent research center for complex systems. SFI's founders – scientists from various fields – "sought a forum to conduct theoretical research outside the traditional disciplinary boundaries" and as an alternative to the increasing specialization they saw in academia[33]. They structured SFI in novel ways: no permanent departments, a small rotating faculty, a constant influx of visiting scholars from different disciplines, and no tenure – all to encourage fresh ideas and prevent any single paradigm from becoming orthodoxy[34]. The institute deliberately fosters active turnover in ideas and people to stay at the cutting edge of interdisciplinary science[34]. In effect, the Santa Fe Institute functions as a micro-cosmopolis: it stands apart from practicality (much of its work is theoretical) yet produces insights that later revolutionize practical fields (from economics to biology). It also resists group bias by its very structure – no silo can form because everyone is constantly engaging across fields. The success of SFI (measured by its outsized impact on complex network theory, chaos theory, etc.) suggests that a cosmopolitan approach to knowledge can work – and that structural choices (like not having internal departments and encouraging visiting scholars) make a difference. Traditional universities can learn from such models by creating more fluid spaces within their walls: e.g., establishing interdisciplinary labs or "centers of convergence" where faculty from different colleges co-locate physically for a few years to work on big problems, free from some departmental reporting lines. Some universities are indeed moving this way, setting up "challenge-based" institutes (on climate, pandemic response, social justice, etc.) that draw experts from all faculties. The key is giving these centers enough autonomy and support to break the usual mold.
Long-range Consortia and Big Science: Another contemporary phenomenon is the creation of multi-institution, long-term research projects around grand challenges. Think of the Human Genome Project (involving universities, government labs, international partners over 13 years to map human DNA), or CERN's particle physics collaborations, or large-scale epidemiological studies. These consortia pool knowledge from many disciplines and often from around the world, functioning as a distributed university focusing on one goal. They illustrate how patience and complete solutions pay off: the Genome Project was sometimes criticized in its early years for being a "big science" drain of resources with no immediate use, but because the scientific community committed to a complete solution (sequencing the entire genome) and waited, today we have breakthroughs in medicine and biology that are transforming lives. A cosmopolis-style university would align with this approach: committing to sustained efforts even if the payoff is a generation away. We already see more universities collaborating in this mode – e.g., the U.N. Sustainable Development Solutions Network links many academic institutions tackling long-term goals like zero hunger or quality education globally. These are nascent cosmopolis networks. The challenge is keeping them insulated from short-term political or economic winds so they can finish their course, which requires, again, a culture of conversion (valuing truth and humanity's welfare above immediate gains).
Experimental Universities and Pedagogies: A few bold experiments in higher education are directly addressing bias and fragmentation. For example, Minerva Schools (founded 2014) offers a curriculum that is entirely interdisciplinary and skills-based, with students living in different countries to gain a global perspective; faculty are not organized by traditional departments but by broad "College of Arts and Sciences" divisions. While Minerva is small, it tests how removing departmental silos and focusing on learning how to think (intellectual conversion) might yield cosmopolis-ready graduates. Other experiments include Olin College (an engineering college that eliminated traditional departments and tenure, requiring faculty to update courses with input from students and real-world partners constantly) and Arizona State University's many interdisciplinary initiatives under President Michael Crow's idea of the "New American University." ASU, a huge public university, has created transdisciplinary schools (for instance, the School of Sustainability) and collapsed some departments into broad divisions to encourage cross-pollination. It also emphasizes inclusion and societal impact, trying to avoid elitism and connect with its local communities. These efforts echo Lonergan's call for a center "at home in both the old and the new" [35] – e.g., ASU combines the old ideal of broad liberal education with a new practical focus on sustainability and social tech. While results are mixed and it's hard to measure cultural impact, such models suggest that universities can reinvent themselves structurally to play a mediating, progressive role better.
In short, history and current practice provide proof of concept for the universiCosmopolisopolis. Medieval and Humboldtian universities show the power of integrated knowledge under guiding values; Renaissance academies and modern institutes show the creativity unleashed by crossing disciplines; large consortia demonstrate the need for patience and completeness; and new experiments show an appetite for reform. These examples also caution us: each had pitfalls (some early universities became ossified; some academies devolved into elitist clubs). The task is to glean the strengths – unity of knowledge, openness, commitment to truth over utility – and avoid the weaknesses, which lead to our final considerations on formation and safeguards.
6. Conversion and Formation: Educating Cosmopolis-Ready Graduates and Scholars
If the soul of Cosmopolis is converted individuals (intellectually, morally, spiritually), then the university must take seriously its role in forming such people. This means extending education beyond mere knowledge transmission to personal transformation. How can a university cultivate intellectual, moral, and spiritual conversion in its students and faculty, so that its community naturally embodies the not-numerous center ethos? Here we propose several practices and designs for curriculum, pedagogy, and campus culture:
Fostering Intellectual Conversion: Education should lead students to what Lonergan calls "self-appropriation" of their knowing – essentially, to become aware of how they know and to love truth above image or ego. In practical terms, this means pedagogy must deeply emphasize critical thinking. Socratic dialogue, inquiry-based learning, and metacognitive reflection can all help. For example, rather than just lecturing facts, a professor might regularly have students reflect in writing: "How did I arrive at this answer? What evidence am I using? Could I be wrong?" Some universities incorporate philosophy of science or epistemology modules even for STEM students, to challenge them to think about thinking. Interdisciplinary courses are also powerful: when students have to integrate methods from, say, biology and ethics to solve a problem, they are forced to step outside simple assumptions and see the contingency of frameworks – a step toward intellectual conversion. On the faculty side, encouraging interdisciplinary research and discussion groups can refresh scholars' intellectual horizons, preventing tunnel vision. A culture of openness – where saying "I don't know" or "I changed my mind" is applauded rather than scorned – will nurture the humility and wonder that mark an intellectually converted person. In short, the curriculum should not just transfer information but constantly pose questions back to the student about how they are learning and what it means.
Fostering Moral Conversion: Moral conversion, the primacy of value over mere satisfaction, can be integrated into university life by foregrounding ethics and service. This doesn't mean every class becomes an ethics class, but every discipline can illuminate the values at stake in its pursuits. For instance, computer science programs now often include units on the ethics of AI, prompting students to think beyond "can we build it?" to "should we build it and for whose benefit?" Many universities have service-learning requirements or opportunities – students volunteer or work in the community connected to their field of study. When well-designed, these experiences confront students with fundamental human needs and ethical dilemmas, challenging them to go beyond self-centered goals. Even campus governance can be an educational tool: involving students in honor codes or disciplinary panels teaches them to value integrity and justice. On the faculty side, moral conversion is fostered by creating an environment that rewards ethical behavior. Suppose a professor knows that mentoring students and adhering to research integrity are valued by the institution as much as winning grants. In that case, they are less likely to fall into the trap of careerism. Universities could incorporate ethics more explicitly into promotion criteria and daily decision-making. Some medical and law schools already have their students take oaths or pledge commitments to serve society; perhaps a cosmopolitan university might encourage all graduates to articulate the values they intend to uphold in their professional and civic lives. These are not empty rituals – they build an identity of responsibility. Ultimately, a morally converted campus culture is one where doing the right thing is openly valued above doing the profitable or prestigious thing. Stories of moral courage (whistleblowers, public intellectuals speaking truth to power, researchers who gave up a lucrative path to address a societal need) should be elevated as role models for students.
Fostering Religious/Spiritual Conversion: Universities, especially secular ones, often shy away from anything resembling spiritual formation. However, spiritual conversion in Lonergan's sense is not about doctrine but about a basic orientation towards hope, charity, and purpose – something that can be cultivated in inclusive ways. A cosmopolis-as-university would encourage students and faculty to connect their intellectual pursuits with a sense of meaning and wholeness. This might be done through offering spaces and times for reflection. For example, some colleges have begun hosting mindfulness meditation sessions or retreats focused on contemplation (open to people of any faith or none). These aren't mere wellness fads; when tied to the intellectual life, they help individuals center themselves on what ultimately matters. Another approach is via the arts and humanities – literature, music, and art on campus can open up transcendent experiences and questions of purpose. Universities historically always included chaplaincies or forums for religious dialogue; today, a cosmopolitan approach could broaden that to interfaith and humanist dialogues on campus, where students discuss existential questions (What is a good life? What do we owe future generations? How do we handle suffering and failure?) in a supportive setting. The goal is not to impose answers but to signal that grappling with ultimate questions is integral to higher education. When students see their institution values more than just their GPA or job placement – that it cares about their character and soul – it frees them to become genuine seekers. Faculty, too, benefit from this atmosphere; burnout and cynicism (typical in academia) are often spiritual maladies of meaninglessness. By nurturing a community ethos of hope and shared higher purpose (for instance, through voluntary faculty seminars on the meaning of the academic vocation, or simply a compassionate work culture), the university helps scholars remain connected to the love of truth and love of humanity that likely drew them to academia initially. That love, in Lonergan's terms, "relies on the love of neighbor, community, and God (or the Good) to heal bias" [12].
Cosmopolitan Curriculum and Campus Culture: A concrete design for a cosmopolis-ready curriculum might include a first-year course that frames the whole college journey around big questions and integration of knowledge (some universities have "great books" or "global challenges" seminars that attempt this). It would include a solid core of liberal arts to ensure every student gains breadth and the ability to see beyond one specialization. It might culminate in a capstone project where students have to address a complex real-world problem, bringing together knowledge from science, ethics, policy, etc., and explicitly reflecting on impacts and ethics. Pedagogically, dialogical teaching methods (where students and teachers learn in exchange) model the intellectual humility we seek. And importantly, the hidden curriculum – how people treat each other daily – should model Cosmopolis as well. Is the campus one where diverse viewpoints can be discussed civilly? Do professors model lifelong learning and openness by sometimes attending each other's lectures or learning from students? Are achievements of cooperation celebrated as much as individual achievements? For faculty formation, providing ongoing development workshops that expose them to new pedagogies or interdisciplinary content can keep their horizons expanding. A professor who undergoes her conversion (say, realizing the importance of another field's approach or rediscovering her ethical commitments) will naturally influence students. Thus, formation is an ongoing, community-wide effort. The outcome we aim for is graduates (and professors) who are comfortable living at the center: scientifically competent and humanistically wise, principled and creative, rooted and open. These are the kinds of leaders society desperately needs – those who refuse easy answers and instead work toward "complete solutions even though [they have] to wait" [8].
7. Failure Modes and Safeguards: Risks of a Cosmopolis University and How to Mitigate Them
No ambitious vision is without pitfalls. If we consciously reshape the university into a cosmopolitan "not-numerous center," we must be vigilant about specific failure modes. History and human nature warn us that even well-intentioned intellectual elites can go astray. Here are some risks and corresponding safeguards to consider:
Risk of Elitism: A group that sees itself as a lofty "center" might grow arrogant and disconnected from those outside it. There's a fine line between being not numerous and being out of touch. If universities double down on being guardians of long-term truth, they could slip into paternalism, acting as if they always know best. Safeguard: Humility and engagement must be baked into the cosmopolis ethos. Universities should constantly dialogue with external communities – not to pander, but to listen and learn. Including practitioners and ordinary citizens in specific decision-making processes (for example, community advisory boards for research that affects the public) can keep the university responsive. Emphasizing service in the university mission counters elitism: professors and students should see themselves as servants of humanity, not an aloof intelligentsia. Metrics of success can include community impact and public trust, not just academic prestige. Essentially, the university needs to remain of the people even as it provides leadership.
Risk of Bureaucratization: Ironically, trying to implement something like the eight functional specialties or lots of feedback loops could drown the university in process and paperwork. One can imagine committees proliferating in the name of interdisciplinarity and self-reflection, until nothing gets done. Safeguard: Keep structures lean and purposeful. The point of functional collaboration is to enhance creativity, not smother it. Any new process (say, a bias review panel or an interdisciplinary council) should have an explicit sunset clause or periodic evaluation of its usefulness. Rotate membership to bring fresh energy rather than creating permanent bureaucrats. Use informal as well as formal mechanisms – sometimes the best "dialectic" is an unconstrained colloquium over coffee rather than a mandated report. Also, empower small teams rather than large committees wherever possible. A non-numerous center implies smallness: we should trust small groups of committed people to generate ideas, rather than requiring a huge consensus for every move. In short, becCosmopolisopolis is more about culture than bureaucracy. Cultivate the culture, and streamline the structures.
Risk of Ideological Capture: Just as a political or ideological faction can capture any university, so can a Cosmopolis-style one. If we explicitly champion a "center" position, there's a danger of performative centrism, where claiming to be above extremes becomes an identity that could itself shut down critique. Alternatively, strong personalities could steer the institution's mission toward their ideology under the guise of pursuing truth. Safeguard: Pluralism and transparency. A true cosmopolis welcomes structured conflict (Lonergan's dialectic) as a way to weed out bias. Therefore, enshrine policies that protect academic freedom and diversity of thought: hire faculty with different philosophical outlooks, encourage respectfully contested dialogue in public events, and ensure no donor or external agenda can secretly dictate research directions. If, for example, a major donor favors a particular economic theory, the safeguard is to have a governance system that still guarantees support for scholars critical of that theory. Another concrete measure: regular external reviews by diverse peers. Inviting outsiders (with various viewpoints) to assess whether the university is living up to its ideals can expose creeping biases. The key is making bias correction a continuous process, not a one-time achievement. A cosmopolitan university would institutionalize debate – for instance, hosting annual "ideals and ideologies" conferences where people inside and outside critique the university's positions. This keeps the center honest.
Risk of Burnout and Overextension: Being the conscience of society is hard work. Faculty and staff might burn out trying to excel in their disciplines simultaneously, engage with the public, mentor students deeply, and reflect on institutional bias endlessly. Students, too, might feel the weight of such an ambitious education. Safeguard: Sustainability applies not only to the environment but to human effort. The university should model balanced life and collaboration. Team teaching and research teams can distribute workloads that previously fell on individuals. Providing robust support (mental health services, mentorship, reasonable workload policies) ensures people don't flame out. Cosmopolisopolis isn't built in a day. Perhaps each year, an institution chooses a couple of major initiatives (e.g., this year we focus on improving interdisciplinarity in undergrad curriculum, next year on community partnerships) rather than trying everything everywhere. Celebrating small wins boosts morale. And the spiritual conversion aspect plays in: a community that has a hopeful, transcendent outlook will support members in rough times, reminding them why the work matters. Burnout is best cured by reconnecting with purpose and by a sense of shared journey rather than isolated struggle.
Risk of Performative Centrism: In some contexts, positioning oneself as "the center" can become a self-righteous stance that avoids taking principled stands. A university might pride itself on being above the fray, but then fail to speak out even when one side aligns more with truth or justice. In other words, centrism can become a cover for inertia or timidity. Safeguard: Remember that Cosmopolis is not about splitting the difference; it's about a higher viewpoint that may very well challenge both or either side strongly. So the safeguard is courage and clarity of values (from the conversions). If a cosmopolis-university sees evidence of a truth that is politically unpopular, it must be willing to "insist on complete solutions" [8], even alone. This is difficult – it may attract criticism from all sides. But part of the formation should be courage. Also, accountability helps: the university can ask, "What have we done this year that demonstrates our commitment to truth and justice in society, tangibly?" If the answer is "we held some seminars but avoided any controversial impact," then perhaps the center has grown too comfortable. In practice, having diverse voices ensures that at least someone will call out complacency. Maybe an internal devil's advocate role could be formalized – someone whose job is to constantly test whether the institution is living up to its talk.
Final safeguard – the Examen for Institutions: We mentioned an examen-like self-review. This routine could be the ultimate meta-safeguard: a periodic, perhaps bi-annual, deep reflection process where all the above risks are considered. It could take the form of an internal white paper or retreat outcomes that honestly ask: "Are we elitist? Are we bureaucratic? Are we co-opted? Are our people thriving or burning out? Are we making a difference?" The responses should lead to adjustments. In other words, build a mechanism to continually re-convert the university itself, because conversion is never one-and-done. This continuous renewal will help the cosmopolis-as-university remain true to its mission.
Conclusion: In the end, reimagining the university as Cosmopolis is a reorientation toward truth and wholeness. It asks the academy to recover its calling as society's patient thinker, cultural mediator, and guardian of meaning through time. This vision stands in contrast to the university as merely a credential factory, a partisan battlefield, or a corporate research arm. Instead, it's a vision of the university as a living tradition of inquiry that both honors the wisdom of the past and embraces the challenges of the future. It is small in the sense of focus and integrity – a "perhaps not numerous center" [1] – but it is enormous in influence when it works, because it sustains the very possibility of enlightened civilization.
"Building the Not-Numerous Center" called for a renewed middle in our public life. By asking how universities themselves can become that middle, we conclude that it requires intentional cultivation of conversion, community, and collaboration. Many of the pieces needed (interdisciplinary efforts, ethics initiatives, community engagement) already exist in embryonic form on campuses around the world. The task now is to integrate them and turn the dial from short-term fixes to long-term transformation. Academic leaders – presidents, deans, faculty, and student leaders alike – can take inspiration from Lonergan's Cosmopolis to see their institution with fresh eyes: not as an impersonal system producing degrees and papers, but as a cosmopolitan community devoted to unbiased truth and the common good.
Such a university might not immediately be rewarded in rankings or revenue. But over time, by insisting on complete solutions and refusing half-measures, it would earn something far more critical: trust and significance. It would be the place where the clamor of polarized extremes gives way to conversation, where fragmented facts become wisdom, and where generations are equipped not just with skills for the job market, but with the discernment and commitment to lead humanity forward. That is the promise of the university as Cosmopolis – a promise we cannot afford to leave unfulfilled.
Sources:
1. Lonergan, Bernard. Insight: A Study of Human Understanding, Collected Works of Bernard Lonergan, vol. 3, p. 26Cosmopolisopolis)[2][3].
2. Lonergan, Bernard. "Dimensions of Meaning," in Collection (on the "not numerous center" quote)[1].
3. Academic Careerism definition, Wikipedia[13].
4. Coddington, M. "Scientists Blame 'Publish or Perish' Culture for Reproducibility Crisis," Technology Networks, 2025 (survey data on reproducibility)[14].
5. Cappelli, P. "College and the Job Market Today," AGB Trusteeship, 2024 (on focus on job training vs broader skills)[18].
6. Mintz, S. "A General Education Curriculum That Matters," Inside Higher Ed, 2025 (on departmental silos and interdisciplinary barriers)[15][16].
7. Kappus, A. "Higher Education's Role in a Polarized America," Carnegie Blog, 2025 (on academics engaging with local communities)[19].
8. Lonergan, Bernard. Method in Theology, Collected Works vol. 14 (on functional specialties and conversions)[21][9].
9. McNeely, I. "The Unity of Teaching and Research: Humboldt's Educational Revolution," Oregon Humanities, 2002 (abstract on Humboldt)[30].
10. "Cosmopolis" entry, Lonergan Institute (quote on freeing culture from practical bias)[5].
11. McNeely, I. "The Renaissance Academies between Science and the Humanities," Configurations, 2011 (abstract on Renaissance academies bridging disciplines)[29].
12. Santa Fe Institute, Wikipedia (founding principles to avoid specialization)[33][34].
[1] [7] [8] [35] The Idea – Lonergan Institute
https://lonergan.org/2010/02/08/the-idea-2/
[2] [3] [4] [5] [6] Cosmopolis | Bernard Lonergan sj
https://lonerganmorin.wordpress.com/2008/01/11/cosmopolis/
[9] [10] [11] [12] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] Lonergan, Bernard | Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy
[13] Academic careerism - Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Academic_careerism
[14] Publish or Perish Culture Drives Reproducibility Crisis | Technology Networks
[15] [16] [17] [28] A General Education Curriculum That Matters
[18] College and the Job Market Today - AGB
https://agb.org/trusteeship-article/college-and-the-job-market-today/
[19] Higher Education's Role in a Polarized America | Carnegie—Higher Ed Marketing & Enrollment
https://www.carnegiehighered.com/blog/higher-educations-role-in-polarized-america/
[20] Bernard Lonergan "Bias, Liberation, Cosmopolis"
https://staticweb.hum.uu.nl/susanne.k.langer/lonerganbiasliberationcosmopolis8.6.html
[29] (PDF) The Renaissance Academies between Science and the Humanities
https://www.academia.edu/889899/The_Renaissance_Academies_between_Science_and_the_Humanities
[30] [31] The Unity of Teaching and Research: Humboldt's Educational Revolution
https://scholarsbank.uoregon.edu/items/2fc75550-77a3-4832-a944-d3db17b2b61f
[32] University of Reform - Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin
https://www.hu-berlin.de/en/exzellenz-en/reformuniversitaet-en/standardseite
Sounds like a blueprint for a new model (actually an old model integrated into a new innovative design: 1+1 = 10) written by someone who intends to pursue this path!