Perhaps no greater Renaissance man has been cited
in American history than Thomas Jefferson. He wrote on the native plants of his
country, Virginia, ran a plantation, designed buildings, founded a university, surveyed
land, was the head of state in Virginia, wrote a declaration of independence, and was the third president of the
new American Union. More than two centuries after Mr. Jefferson, however, a cleft had become
well-ensconced in American society between being an intellectual and a
practitioner. The typical lawyer or physician, who holds two undergraduate
degrees due in part to the political sense that a well-rounded citizenry makes
a good electorate, has scant interest in intellectual endeavor. Indeed, one
might even say that the “professions” place scant value on such activity; it is
not “real work” or of the “real world.” The disdain is palpable, particularly in among the self-righteous in America.
Yet Mr. Jefferson was able to bridge this gulf; so too can we. More
contemporary examples can be cited to illustrate the mere possibility. The requisite delimiting "pruning" self-discipline might come as a surprise to people who presume that Renaissance breadth is borne of a wayward inability to "stay put."