Reading literature, oh goodness

Do the humanities ennoble? The question is posed by Stanley Fish. And this is his answer:

It's a pretty idea, but there is no evidence to support it and a lot of evidence against it. If it were true, the most generous, patient, good-hearted and honest people on earth would be the members of literature and philosophy departments, who spend every waking hour with great books and great thoughts, and as someone who's been there (for 45 years) I can tell you it just isn't so. Teachers and students of literature and philosophy don't learn how to be good and wise; they learn how to analyze literary effects and to distinguish between different accounts of the foundations of knowledge.

... It is not the business of the humanities to save us... What then do they do? They don't do anything, if by "do" is meant bring about effects in the world. And if they don't bring about effects in the world they cannot be justified except in relation to the pleasure they give to those who enjoy them.

Well, I think Fish is right about one thing: it would be naive to expect to find the most generous, patient, good-hearted and honest people on earth in literature and philosophy departments. But otherwise his reasoning is fallacious. From the fact that you'll find all sorts in literature and philosophy departments it doesn't follow that the humanities don't do anything other than give pleasure to those who enjoy them. Note that I don't say they do do something beyond this, only that they might, and that Fish hasn't established that they don't.

To simplify matters, let's leave philosophy out of it and concentrate only on the reading of literature. Does it do anything, and more particularly does it do any good? Fish's argument that it doesn't, based on the evidence provided by what kind of people inhabit literature departments, might make sense if the model of moral education that operated in the world looked something like this: there's an ascent from poor moral character to high moral character, and reading literature moves people along the path of that ascent in an unvarying and uniform manner; the more they read the higher they ascend, this irrespective of any other influences on moral character. But there's no reason to think that this is a valid model. Suppose the true (or a truer) model looks like this: as regards most people - omitting complete saints and the downright diabolically wicked - there is a band of moral character, stretching from not so good through average to goodish and then better than that. There are certain fundamental influences on where any individual is within this band: among them, let us just say (speculatively), genetic ones, familial upbringing, and other educational and socializing influences including friendships. These influences affect where a person is likely to stand, or sit, or even lie, on the aforesaid band. But now it can happen that a proportion of folk get some benefits beyond mere enjoyment, including moral benefits, from reading literature. It might make them, marginally or more than marginally, better than they would otherwise be.

It's possible, and that it's possible undermines Stanley Fish's argument. It could be happening widely and still leave some of the denizens of literature departments in the middle of, or even low down on, that moral band. His argument is no more persuasive than would be one seeking to show, from the fact of there being oldish people who are less than wise, that experience teaches nothing.