Category: Education

original public meaning

One of my side projects in 2026 has been to record brief audio essays about the rich histories of English words, particularly as they emerge from their Greek and Roman ancestors, for a new podcast called Original Public Meaning. I was inspired to create these recordings, at least in part, by how much I enjoyed producing a similar audio essay on the Latin verb proficio for the Thesaurus Linguae Latinae in 2025. And cultural-criticism-via-word-history has been a favorite beat of mine for many years.

I’ve been recording two episodes of this show per week. A few of my favorites are listed below.


nostalgia” defined as a longing for one’s home, one’s past, and one’s own psychological space:


convention” considered both as a meeting place and as a prevailing social practice:


incandescent” viewed through the lenses of technological and moral development:


I’m also realizing how effective audio recordings can be for teaching: producing brief segments to reflect on a section of the Iliad that didn’t quite make it into lectures, for instance. Making these kinds of recordings for students is more knack than science, so the podcast is a good opportunity for practicing all kinds of skills: microphone technique, argumentative clarity, and refining prose for the ear rather than the eye.

You can find all the episodes at the show’s website. (And no, the podcast has nothing to do with originalism as a legal theory; Original Public Meaning is just a good title for a show about the complex histories of words.)

the gladiator & the gadfly

In a brief essay for the latest issue of Commonweal, I consider the aftermath of the murder of Charlie Kirk and make the case that “robust discourse” in academic settings can never be entrusted to political pundits. Instead, colleges and universities need to defend “substantive principles like toleration, moral freedom, and openness to doubt,” and doing so will require institutional recommitment to teaching advanced literacy and the “slow-paced rituals of humanistic learning”:

In my view, colleges and universities already have monuments to “open, robust discourse.” They’re called libraries. In their quiet stacks, one can find John Rawls’s A Theory of Justice not far from Robert Nozick’slibertarian response, Anarchy, State, and Utopia. Library patrons can read Frantz Fanon’s defense of political violence in The Wretched of the Earth, but they can also pick up a copy of Hannah Arendt’s On Violence, her rejection of bloodshed in the pursuit of political power. Spirited disagreement can be found on every American campus. We simply need to pull it off the shelf.

I realize how naïve this may seem amid the chorus of articles reporting that college students can’t read selections from demanding books, let alone entire volumes. Even so, colleges must promote their own literate vision of “robust discourse” and hold firm to their identity and mission against opportunistic political actors. They make a grave, self-destructive error if they accept that intellectual life is best represented by a tent emblazoned with the insincere taunt “Prove Me Wrong.”

This essay picks up on some ideas that I considered years ago in a review of Zena Hitz’s book Lost in Thought—that review remains one of my favorite contributions to Commonweal. On a related note, I was happy to be consulted alongside Hitz and others for a report in The Guardian on the state of humanities education at US universities.

ut silvae foliis: proficio and progress


I recently recorded a podcast episode for Ut Silvae Foliis, a series of reflections on Latin words as documented in the Thesaurus Linguae Latinae, the world’s foremost Latin dictionary. While a postdoctoral fellow at the TLL in 2016/2017, I had the great fortune to learn about an inexhaustible diversity of Latin authors, and this 15-minute audio essay was a welcome opportunity to revisit the Thesaurus and its sources.

I chose to discuss the verb proficio, perhaps best translated in English as “to progress” or “to improve.” Over the course of a millennium, this verb appears in an almost-overwhelming array of texts, all of which raise provocative issues about our own notions of “improvement.” What does it mean to “be better” or to “become better”? What does it mean for someone or something to “progress”? These are difficult questions that straddle the domains of lexicography and intellectual history. Even if the TLL can’t settle a perennial problem like the definition of “progress,” it can nevertheless give us a glimpse at how our predecessors have wrestled with these intractable matters.