You’re probably familiar with that feeling of sitting down to do "deep work" and immediately checking your phone. We live in a world that hates focus. But back in 1921, a French Dominican priest named Antonin-Gilbert Sertillanges wrote a book that makes our modern productivity apps look like toys. It’s called The Intellectual Life, and honestly, it’s less of a "how-to" and more of a "why-to" for anyone who wants to use their brain for something more than scrolling.
Sertillanges wasn't just some monk in a vacuum. He was writing specifically for people living in the "world"—people with jobs, families, and noisy neighbors. He basically argues that if you want to be a thinker, you have to treat your mind like a sacred vocation. It’s not a hobby. It’s not something you do just to get a degree or a paycheck. It’s a way of being.
The Brutal Reality of the Intellectual Vocation
Most people think The Intellectual Life is about reading a lot of books. It isn’t. Sertillanges is actually pretty clear that reading too much is a form of laziness. He calls it "intellectual gluttony." If you’re just consuming without producing or reflecting, you’re basically just a sophisticated couch potato.
The core of his message is about disposition. You can't be a genius for two hours a day and a degenerate for the other twenty-two. Your character matters. If you’re living a chaotic, disorganized, or unethical life, your thinking will be muddy. It’s a tough pill to swallow. He suggests that "the intelligence is only a part of us," and for it to work right, the rest of the machine—your body, your morals, your schedule—has to be tuned up.
He’s huge on the idea of the "vocation." Think about that word. It comes from the Latin vocare, to call. Sertillanges believed that if you have a knack for thinking, you have a duty to do it well. It’s a service to the world. But that service requires a weird kind of selfishness. You have to guard your time like a hawk.
Two Hours a Day: The Magic Number
Here is the part that actually makes people feel better. Sertillanges says you only need two hours.
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"Are you at a loss to find two hours? Is it possible that you cannot find two hours out of twenty-four? If you cannot find two hours, you must be very busy indeed, or very little of a master of yourself."
That’s it. Just two hours of deep, uninterrupted, agonizingly focused work. He acknowledges that some people have "crushing" jobs or massive families, but he insists that even for them, the two-hour rule is the baseline. But there’s a catch. Those two hours have to be pure. No multitasking. No "checking in." No wandering thoughts.
He emphasizes the "spirit of prayer" in work. Even if you aren’t religious, the concept holds water: treat your work with a sense of reverence. If you’re writing a report, write it like it’s the most important thing in the universe. If you’re studying biology, look at the cells with awe. This intensity is what separates a true intellectual from a "diluted" thinker who spends eight hours "working" while actually just managing tabs in a browser.
The Role of Solitude and Silence
You can't think in a crowd. You just can't. Sertillanges is obsessed with silence. He talks about it as a "fortress." Nowadays, we call this "digital minimalism" or "deep work" (shoutout to Cal Newport, who clearly owes a lot to this 100-year-old book), but Sertillanges takes it deeper.
He’s not just talking about external silence. He’s talking about internal silence. If your head is full of "vain images" or the latest political drama or what someone said to you at the grocery store, you aren't silent. You’re noisy inside. To produce anything of value, you have to clear the deck.
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Why Most People Get Intellectual Work Wrong
We tend to think that being an "intellectual" means being an expert in everything. Sertillanges thinks that’s a trap. He warns against "scattering." If you try to know everything, you end up knowing nothing deeply.
- Depth over breadth. Pick a field. Root yourself in it.
- The danger of "The News." He hated the daily papers. He thought they distracted us from eternal truths. Imagine what he’d think of Twitter.
- Friendships. You shouldn't hang out with people who drain your mental energy. Your social life should feed your intellectual life, not kill it.
He also talks about the physical side. Don’t ignore your health. A tired, sickly body makes for a tired, sickly mind. He advocates for light exercise and "the open air." It’s basically the 1920s version of "go touch grass." But he’s right. If you’re hunched over a desk for ten hours, your brain eventually turns to mush.
Note-Taking: The "Box" Method
Sertillanges was a big fan of filing systems. Long before Evernote or Notion, he was telling people to carry slips of paper. Why? Because ideas are slippery. They show up when you’re walking or eating, and if you don't catch them, they’re gone forever.
He suggests a "box" or a filing cabinet where you organize these slips by subject. This isn’t just for storage; it’s for synthesis. When you sit down to write, you pull out your notes on "Justice" or "Physics" or "Gardening," and you see how they connect. It’s about building a secondary brain that grows with you over decades.
The Common Misconceptions
People often think The Intellectual Life is just for Catholics or scholars.
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Actually, it’s for anyone who wants to take their craft seriously. Whether you’re a coder, a writer, a teacher, or a stay-at-home parent trying to keep your brain alive, the principles are universal. He’s not saying you have to be a genius. He’s saying you have to be honest.
Another misconception is that it’s an elitist book. While his language is formal, his message is actually quite democratic. He believes anyone, regardless of their status, can live an intellectual life if they have the discipline. He even gives advice to people who work in manual labor, telling them how to use their "inner life" while their hands are busy.
Building Your Own Intellectual Life: Actionable Steps
If you’re ready to stop being a passive consumer and start being a thinker, you don't need to quit your job. You just need to change your posture toward life.
- Audit your "leaks." Where does your time go? Most of us lose three to four hours a day to "nothingness." Find those leaks and plug them.
- Establish your "Cell." You need a physical space that is for work and nothing else. Even if it's just a specific corner of a table. When you are there, you are a worker.
- The "Morning of the Mind." Sertillanges is a big fan of early morning work. Your brain is fresh. The world is quiet. Before the emails start hitting, give your best hours to your best work.
- Read with a pen. Never read passively. If a book doesn't make you want to argue or take notes, why are you reading it?
- Master your "Small Times." Use the ten minutes between meetings or the time spent waiting for the bus to reflect, not to scroll.
The Long Game
Living an intellectual life is a marathon. Sertillanges talks a lot about "perseverance." You’re going to have days where your brain feels like a brick. That’s fine. The goal isn't to be brilliant every day; it's to be present every day.
He reminds us that "the search for truth is a service to God" (or, if you prefer, a service to humanity). When you seek the truth, you’re doing something noble. Don't let the noise of the world convince you that it's a waste of time.
Start tomorrow. Two hours. No phone. No excuses. Just you and the work. It’s harder than it sounds, but as Sertillanges would say, it's the only way to truly live.
Next Steps for Deepening Your Practice:
- Identify your "Deep Work" window. For most, this is between 6:00 AM and 9:00 AM. Block it off on your calendar as a recurring, non-negotiable appointment.
- Select one foundational text. Instead of reading ten blog posts, pick one difficult book in your field and commit to reading it slowly, taking detailed notes on every chapter.
- Create a physical filing system. Whether it's a stack of index cards or a dedicated digital folder, begin capturing "fleeting thoughts" immediately. Review these notes once a week to look for patterns and connections.