The “Practical” Philosopher?
Without fail, whenever I tell someone that I study philosophy, I receive one of two responses. The first response is a kind of uncertain silence. It’s the silence of a person who has nothing whatsoever to say about a topic, but who feels bound by the norms of polite conversation to respond. The second response is, “So, what is your philosophy?” or else “Who do you study?” I learn quite a bit about a person, based on which response they give.
A person who gives the first response may not actually know what philosophy is. But if she does, then she certainly doesn’t think that she has any interest in it. A person who gives the second response indicates an interest in the idea of philosophy, but demonstrates that she has never actually studied it herself. If it’s the second version of this second response, then I know that she has probably taken an introductory course. Many intro classes survey the big names in the history of philosophy. Thus, students coming out of these classes assume that what philosophers do is study what historical philosophers have written. (Of course, that is what a few philosophers do; but most prefer to think their own thoughts.)
In addition to what these responses tell me about individuals, they both also say something about society at large. There is a huge disconnect between how ordinary people understand philosophy and how philosophers understand philosophy.
I know some academics who are hesitant to take on the title of “philosopher”. They consider it an accolade that must be given, not assumed. Maybe they’re worried about seeming pretentious. I will be so bold as to assume it without hesitation. I am a philosopher. I feel comfortable making this claim partly because I the title doesn’t entail quite as much as one might expect. It certainly does say something significant if one has the title of “professional philosopher”. That implies that one gets paid to do philosophy, and that certainly is saying a lot. (Notice also that that title is given, and cannot be assumed.) But, while very few people are professional philosophers, everyone is an amateur philosopher.
Amusingly, defining “philosophy” is itself an interesting (and difficult) philosophical puzzle. But, most of the philosophers that I know agree that, whatever else it is about, philosophy is fundamentally about exposing ideas to critical evaluation. (See here for some philosophers’ responses to the question, “What is philosophy?”) And so whether they realize it or not, most people — so long as they are at least marginally thoughtful — are engaging in philosophy. Certainly, if nothing else, everyone tacitly presupposes a range of philosophical views. There is no science without an assumed philosophy of science. There is no art, without an assumed aesthetic. There is no moral life without ethical assumptions. So, to claim to be a philosopher isn’t to claim much at all. Everyone philosophizes. What varies is how self-consciously, and skillfully one does it.
It is this conviction, that everyone is a philosopher, which inspires this blog. In the 21st century, philosophy has largely been relegated to a very narrow, professional/academic (and therefore exclusive) sector of society. This is to the detriment of both society and philosophy.
By keeping philosophy almost exclusively in the hands of professional academics, we undermine the ordinary person’s ability to subject ideas to critical evaluation. I don’t know anyone who has ever said, “People are too rational, thoughtful, and self-critical these days.” The reflective, critical thinker is one of those resources that we seem never to have enough of. Even if it had no other merits, philosophy would still deserve praise as the best tool yet discovered for improving the quality of a person’s thinking. (Skeptical? Check out these data.) Keeping philosophy out of the hands of ordinary people can only ever be a disservice to them.
But keeping philosophy locked in an ivory tower also stifles philosophy itself. For one thing, it severely restricts the number of voices that participate in the dialogue. For another, it distances philosophical reflection from the real world, and from the concerns and interests of actual people. When they’re being sensible, philosophers sometimes worry about whether their work is “relevant”. Daniel Dennett may have made a splash with his criticism of the field’s societal triviality, but he’s certainly not the first person — or even the first philosopher — to raise this criticism. In fact, it seems to have become a commonplace for scientists to impugn philosophy as trivial and irrelevant. (Massimo Pigliucci deserves credit for his valiant defense against these—often fairly naïve, and usually self-undermining—attacks.)
Philosophy needs a Prometheus. (Or, more realistically, an army of Prometheus-like figures.) The Practical Philosopher is an attempt to do something about this problem. It aims to bring the toolbox of academic philosophy to bear on issues and questions that are of interest to ordinary people — men and women “on the street”, as philosophers like to call them. These are topics that are unlikely to find space in “serious” academic journals. Very often the topics and questions debated in such journals would be utterly opaque to the average person. (Which is not to say that they aren’t still important.) Not so here. The Practical Philosopher strives to stay at ground level, in conversation with the person on the street.
