The University of Helsinki awarded the J. V. Snellman Public Information Award in 2026 to Professor of Church History Tuomas Heikkilä.
Distinguished Chancellor and Rector, dear friends of scholarly knowledge,
A heart-felt thank you for this recognition. Named after philosopher and statesman J.V. Snellman, this award feels particularly compelling and timely, for he believed in the simple idea that knowledge does not exist for its own sake, but for the sake of society also.
I believe the same, and that is why I will go on to talk about rotting hands and taxpayers, and binoculars and attitudes.
Thirty years ago, I embarked on my studies at the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, the Vatican Library. Since then I have spent years, surrounded by tens of thousands of medieval books, in that great institution preserving the Western world's literary heritage.
In the Middle Ages, before the invention of printing, writing was a slow and laborious effort. Every word written with a quill on parchment was carefully weighed. On finally completing a manuscript, many scribes left a final comment known as a colophon on the last page. One colophon from the 15th century has made a lasting impression on me.
It reads as follows: "The hand that wrote this is rotting in the grave, but the words written will last until the end of time. The dead counsel the living through books."
This reflection by an unknown 15th century scribe is thought-provoking. He was writing for eternity, doing a service for people he would never meet. Through his tacit work he was contributing to the cathedral of knowledge which he knew would be completed only long after his lifetime, if ever.
This medieval scribe's line of thinking was exactly the same as ours, members of the University community in 2026. We also understand our role in the long line of scholars that extends from the dawn of history far into the future. The guiding light in our community as well is the understanding that knowledge accumulates from generation to generation, always offering new solutions to new challenges.
The University of Helsinki contains more knowledge and understanding than any other institution in Finland. In my opinion, our academic community is the wisest part of the happiest country in the world. It is the brain, intellect and memory - perhaps even the soul - of Finland.
With advanced knowledge comes responsibility for the present and the future. Looking out of the windows of this Great Hall, we see a world rapidly growing dark. While societies are becoming increasingly polarised, democracy is more and more often regarded as a weakness. A blind eye is turned to genocide, while economy and politics excuse the indiscriminate bombing of innocent civilians. All around us, climate change scorches our planet.
For historians, such causes for concern are nothing new. People in each era have, as they have seen it, lived through dark times. Research-based knowledge, understanding and insight are needed as much today as in all other points in history. However, the way we are passing on our knowledge pales in comparison when we think of that unknown scribe from what we conceive as the Dark Ages. He proudly practised his profession for the benefit of the future and people whom he was never to meet, whereas we far too often resort to name-dropping and highbrow discussion in our little academic bubbles.
I was fortunate enough to be able to participate in formulating the values for our University. Each of the chosen values - truth, Bildung, freedom and inclusivity - obliges us to step up and take action to reach a growing public. Our values are the University's mission statement to the public, meaning, the taxpayers who fund our work. And the public truly expects us to deliver knowledge, hope and solutions. According to surveys, 80% of Finns trust universities and research; in fact, they think that as an institution, we are nearly as reliable as the Finnish Defence Forces and the police.
Our modern worldview and conception of humanity are surprisingly medieval. Medieval learning gave rise to universities and shaped our current values, laws and beliefs. It brought to the mainstream the idea that all humans have a valuable soul, and that they are thinking, moral beings, inherently important. The Middle Ages were not an era marked by democracy or equality, but neither are our modern times.
Nevertheless, we modern scholars have access to incomparably better tools for disseminating scholarly knowledge and information than the medieval scribes. Much more can and must be expected from us than from our colleagues from centuries ago.
What means do we have to best provide the general public with a comprehensive and correct picture of where our research leads, and spread the most useful knowledge outside our sphere? I need your help in finding the answer to this question.
Please raise your left hand and cover your left eye with it. Then, place your right hand in the form of a spyglass in front of your right eye. Good, now hold this position! How does the world look? What can you see? Details, perhaps close details - but only in a narrow sector. You have to make a concerted effort and keep turning your head to see around you.
Next: Keep your right hand as a spyglass over your eye, but close your left hand similarly into a spyglass over your left eye. How does the world look now that you are looking at it through binoculars? You have a broader, stereoscopic and three-dimensional view of your surroundings. Your attention is no longer on the details, but on the bigger picture.
Keep holding the binoculars over your eyes. When I say "go", lift your hands off your face. Now, go!
Oh, how bright it is! You have a broad viewpoint! And note how well you can see the people next to you and your surroundings!
Our brief exercise illustrates two things. First, it demonstrates something that almost inevitably happens during an academic career. Becoming an expert means specialisation, but specialisation comes at a price. The further you specialise, the closer you focus on one area only, and at the same time, the bigger picture may easily become obscure.
Second, our exercise reminds us of the dangers of scholarly tunnel vision. If we wish to understand broad, complex issues and provide society with sustainable solutions, we need to look at things from a variety of perspectives. We need to cross disciplinary boundaries and collaborate. Luckily, we are a universitas, a community of people striving towards a shared understanding. We depend on one another, on both the close focus on detail and the broad vision over a wider horizon.
While our University works to benefit the world, the power of knowledge alone does not make the world a better place. What is needed above all is attitude. What the world needs the most is the attitude of Bildung. This is not about being a snob or showing off your excellence. Instead, it is about assuming your ethical responsibility, accepting diversity and showing your humanity. It is about engaging in dialogue and showing mutual respect. That is why Bildung is about collaboration and interaction, not just about disseminating academic knowledge to the world.
To conclude, let's go back to another colophon that conveys both dissemination of knowledge and interaction. Another medieval scribe wrote on the last page of his manuscript just two short sentences: "Opus est scriptum. Da mihi potum." In other words: The work is done, now I deserve a drink. This is the shortest and perhaps the wisest science and education policy I know.
Our duty is to continue the work that universities have been doing for centuries. With increased ambition. And with increased collaboration.
