I am teaching four sections of
philosophy this fall but in an unusual arrangement. Two of them are traditional general education
course; one is an honors seminar; and one is online. As always, I begin by asking myself what the
Hell I am talking about. Philosophy is
distinct from the other courses I and other professors teach in so far as most
students have no idea what it is they will be doing in such a course. A math student begins with some idea of
numbers and their manipulation; a student of literature begins with some idea
of reading; but what does a philosophy student begin with? Here are some of my introductory reflections.
Philosophy is a human
activity. To philosophize is to do
something that philosophers do. It is a
fundamental activity in the sense that to do it involves taking a basic
position with regard to oneself and the world around oneself. In that sense it is like religion, politics,
war, and business. Such activities shape
both individuals and communities. As
some Chinese wit said, to the man who makes shoes, the whole world is made of
leather.
It may be argued that, of all
such fundamental activities, philosophy has had the greatest impact on human
history. Philosophy gave rise to science
and science to modern science and the latter to modern technology. These underlie the astonishing changes in the
world over the past two centuries. One
of the reasons that this impact is so profound is that, again unlike other
similar activities, philosophy does not seem to arise spontaneously in
different places.
Politics, religion, war, and
trade are ubiquitous among human societies.
They arise spontaneously wherever enough human beings gather. Philosophy seems to have arisen spontaneously
only once, on the western shore of Asia Minor around the turn of the sixth
century BC. Since that time, everyone we
know about who has philosophized has done so after encountering the philosophical
tradition either by meeting a philosopher or reading what some philosopher
wrote.
In saying this, one might
suppose that I am privileging “Western philosophy” over other philosophical
traditions such as Eastern philosophy. I
do not at all imply that alternative traditions of thought are inferior;
however, I do hold that they are distinct from what Thales or Socrates or Leo
Strauss meant by philosophy. It is
perhaps easiest to begin by saying what philosophy is not.
Philosophy is not the
elaboration of doctrine. Most of what is
called Eastern philosophy falls into this category, as for example the Abhidharma
tradition in Buddhism. These traditions
begin with certain fundamental principles backed by religious authority (e.g.,
all compounded things are impermanent).
They proceed by elaborating and reconciling. They value of such enterprises depends, of course,
on the value of the original principles.
Whatever one thinks of this (and I have a deep respect for Buddhist
traditions), it isn’t what Socrates was up to.
Philosophy is not
religion. Religions begin and perhaps
end with an authoritative statement.
Hear, Israel, the Lord your God is one!
Philosophy begins with questions and perhaps remains with the same. Likewise philosophy is not mysticism, which views
rational thought as an obstacle to wisdom.
Philosophy is emphatically not a
statement of personal beliefs that one holds without bothering much to think
about them, as in: “my philosophy is live and let live.”
So what is it? I will offer the following as the simplest
possible answer:
Philosophy is the
attempt to become wise by relentless questioning.
That definition fixes the
essence of philosophy in its goal (wisdom) and its method (questioning). Both must be present if what is being done is
genuinely philosophical. The definition
is sufficient if you read back the method to understand the goal, which is to
say that questioning as a path to wisdom presupposes a certain view of
wisdom.
You might suppose that wisdom
is a largely meaningless term, since it is necessarily understood in different
ways by the distinct activities identified above. You would be wrong. Wisdom means simply having the answers to all
the important questions. Again you might
object that there are a very large number of important questions and that different
cultures and distinct professions within a culture will select out their own
privileged set. Again, you would be
wrong.
There are really only two
important questions. The wise in any
group, from the elders in the tribe up to the priests and divine emperor, rest
their claim to wisdom on the answers.
The two questions are:
What is the nature of
the world?
How should we live in
it?
The tribal elder will present
as a wise person because he or she knows the authoritative stories (the world
is mud on the back of a giant turtle and curiosity killed the cat) and because
his or her long life provides a multitude of illustrations. The prophet is wise because he knows that God
created the heavens and the earth and that fear of God is the guide to the best
possible life.
Philosophy begins when someone
first took seriously the distinction between opinion and knowledge, between the
way that things seem to be and the way that they really are. Water, ice, and vapor seem to be different
things, as different as caterpillars and butterflies. But wait!
Don’t ice and vapor seem to come from water? Could it be that all three are different
forms of the same thing? Okay, so the
world is mud on the back of a really big turtle. What is the turtle swimming in? Philosophy begins by questioning both
appearances and the stories that we tell about them.
Perhaps the best illustration
of philosophy occurs at the beginning of Plato’s magnificent Republic. Socrates asks the aged Cephalus
What do you consider to be the greatest blessing which you
have reaped from your wealth?
Cephalus replies that he is
preparing for death by making sure that all his debts are paid, so he will carry
no moral deficit if and when he faces the afterlife. So is justice paying what is owed? Socrates isn’t so sure.
Well said, Cephalus, I replied; but as concerning justice,
what is it? --to speak the truth and to pay your debts --no more than this? And
even to this are there not exceptions? Suppose that a friend when in his right
mind has deposited arms with me and he asks for them when he is not in his
right mind, ought I to give them back to him? No one would say that I ought or
that I should be right in doing so, any more than they would say that I ought
always to speak the truth to one who is in his condition.
That is philosophy. One question is followed by another until all
questions have been answered. Of course,
questions always remain or, at least, questions still remain. As long as that
is so, the wisdom sought by the philosophers is beyond their grasp.
The philosopher is the person
who refuses to stop asking questions until all questions have been
answered. Philosophers are rare, but
anyone can participate in philosophy in so far as he or she remains alive to
the unanswered questions and can hear their seductive whispers.
Well said. I look forward to regular visits to this blog.
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