Why Philosophy?

[George H. Smith]

The following is from my book Why Atheism? (Prometheus, 2000) It is the second part (of three) of Chapter 6,"Why Philosophy?"

I am posting this because of a discussion that has arisen in the "Moral Certainty" thread. This section explains my position better than I could in brief posts.

I took this draft from an old computer file. I'm not sure if it is exactly the same as the published version, but it should be very close.

II

Progress in Philosophy

Sometimes the most interesting features of a philosopher are his errors, especially those that appear obvious to the modern reader. How can it be, we ask ourselves, that a brilliant, first-rate mind could commit such flagrant blunders? Rather than dismiss such errors as the result of stupidity or mendaciousness, it is far more instructive to ask ourselves how these errors came about, and why they were not as apparent to the philosopher in question as they are to us. We can learn more from the errors of a genius than we can from the mundane truths of a lesser mind.

Consider a common complaint: that philosophy, unlike the special sciences, has not progressed over time, that modern philosophers are still debating the same unresolved problems that vexed the philosophers of ancient Greece. Surely there is something wrong with a discipline that moves perpetually in circles and never comes to rest with definite, widely-accepted conclusions.

There are several things that can be said about this popular criticism. The success or failure of a discipline depends on how well it has achieved its primary goal, so we must first determine the purpose of philosophy before we can assess its progress. This purpose has traditionally been seen as self-enlightenment, i.e., as the intellectual and moral improvement of the individual philosopher. In other words, the goal of philosophy is personal, not social. Even if some of the basic problems in philosophy have been solved (and I think they have) this solution is useless for the person who has not personally thought through the problem for himself and arrived at a reasoned judgment.

In a sense, the individual must relive the history of philosophy in his own mind, going over the classic problems, analyzing them, and arriving at a solution. The microcosm of the individual mind, by reanimating past arguments and controversies, will reflect the macrocosm of philosophy’s history. Only in this way is philosophy a living process rather than a dead subject matter.

This distinguishes philosophy from the natural sciences, such as physics and chemistry. These and other experimental sciences depend on specialization and the division of labor in a way that philosophy does not. No single physicist can hope personally to verify the experimental conclusions of all other physicists by repeating all of their experiments. Rather, he must rely on the standards of public verification that have been established within his own discipline; this is the function of scientific journals and conferences. These outlets allow peer review and debate, which the physicist must rely on when deciding which conclusions and theories he should accept as the basis for his own work. It is by thus building on the work of others that physical science tends to progress through the accumulation of new knowledge. (This does not mean, as is sometimes asserted, that a scientist must accept the work of other scientists on "faith." Rather, it is the purpose of standards within the scientific community to assure that a given scientist can trust the assertions of other scientists with a fairly high degree of probability, if not certainty.)

This is not the method of philosophy, however; philosophy is not the public pursuit of knowledge in this sense. Although the philosopher can (and should) learn from the work of other philosophers, both living and dead, he cannot accept an argument or a conclusion on the basis of peer review. No philosopher worthy of the name would endorse a position merely on the testimony of other philosophers, even if they constitute a large majority. The arguments and conclusions of others are regarded by the philosopher as suggestions and insights that may stimulate his own thinking. But ultimately the philosopher, if he is to accept and utilize the work done by others, must retrace their arguments in his own mind and reach an independent judgment. This stress on independent judgment, based on the autonomy of reason, is and always has been the categorical imperative of pure philosophy.

As previously mentioned, philosophy is the most fundamental of cognitive disciplines, so it cannot look somewhere else for a definition of the philosophic enterprise. Philosophy is autonomous, i.e., self-legislating. It must establish its own identity by determining its proper subject matter, method, and perspective. Different conceptions of the scope and method of philosophy will naturally generate different conclusions. If philosophers cannot agree on what they are doing, it is unlikely they will agree on how to do it or when they are doing it well. This has led to the diversity of philosophic opinions, and this diversity has provided a good deal of fodder for the critics of philosophy. If philosophers cannot even agree on the purpose and standards of their discipline, then how can philosophy claim to be a valid discipline at all? If philosophers cannot even agree on the most basic issues, then how can it be said that philosophy serves a useful purpose?

Here we should recall that philosophy is first and foremost the personal quest for understanding. It is not, like the physical sciences, a public enterprise that depends for its progress on specialization and experimentation. Rather, philosophy is refined common sense. By this I mean that the philosopher deals with the common experience of humankind; he does not appeal to specialized experience, such as experiments undertaken in a laboratory. Philosophy is the systematic analysis of common experience.

If, as I have argued, philosophy is personal rather than public, then the success of philosophy must be measured in personal terms. Philosophic speculation, as conceived by the Greeks, is an end in itself, undertaken for the personal satisfaction and fulfillment of the philosopher. For many Greeks the purpose of philosophy is to develop the sage, or wise man -- the person who lives a contemplative life. Although not everyone would agree with Aristotle that the contemplative life is ultimately the most satisfying kind of life, most of those who engage in philosophizing will agree that it yields personal benefits.

Philosophy is the quest for wisdom; it is a sustained and systematic effort to understand ourselves and the world in which we live. Many people claim that the pursuit of such knowledge has enriched their lives, and there is no reason to doubt such claims. Contrary to its critics, therefore, philosophy does tend to progress, but it does so at the personal level. Measured by this standard, philosophy has succeeded many thousands of times and will continue to do so in the future. .

The counter-claim -- the claim that philosophy represents a cognitive wheel that spins on its axis without moving anywhere -- is based on a mistaken view of philosophy. If philosophy spins on its own axis, this is because the fundamental problems that confront human beings remain basically the same through time and across space. What is the nature of things? What can I know, and how do I know it? How should live my life? These are among the perennial problems of human existence that confront every culture in every era. They are recurring problems that must be addressed anew, not only by every generation, but by every reflective person.

The vast majority of people are content to accept the answers that have been handed down to them by others, whether in the form of religious dogma, cultural norms, political decrees, or some other authoritative source. Philosophy, as it emerged in ancient Greece, was an effort to break free from the restrictive bonds of authority, and to think for oneself. Early philosophers did not abandon mythology and customary beliefs altogether, but they insisted that all knowledge claims, whatever their source, should be subject to criticism and rational scrutiny. If a Greek philosopher believed that we should abide by established customs, he gave reasons for this belief. Even so-called irrationalists in the history of philosophy have understood the need to present arguments for their viewpoint – to present a reasoned defense of irrationalism, so to speak.

If philosophy is primarily the personal pursuit of wisdom, it is also more than that; it does have a public aspect. In Eastern philosophy the pursuit of wisdom was often regarded as a solitary enterprise. The sage retreats within himself and, by clearing his mind of all external influences, achieves true wisdom. For many Eastern philosophers, to argue with others hinders our pursuit of wisdom, because it clutters the mind with needless baggage that obstructs our pure vision of the good, the divine, and so forth.

With some exceptions (such as mysticism), this solitary method has not been characteristic of Western philosophy. From its inception Western philosophy has stressed the interplay of like-minded persons in pursuit of truth. We see this clearly in the Socratic dialogues written by Plato. This was the original meaning of "dialectics" -- i.e., a cooperative exchange of ideas in a common pursuit of knowledge.

This dialectical process, this ongoing exchange of ideas, can occur not only across space, with the living, but also through time, with the dead. A philosophy does not perish with its originator but is given new life every time it encounters a new mind. This gives the history of philosophy (and ideas in general) an immediate relevance that is often missing in more conventional histories that deal with external events and actions.

The history of philosophy is an internal history of the human mind, a chronicle of various attempts to answer the perennial questions of human existence. And despite the individualizing influence of culture and personality on particular philosophers, we can identify with their thinking insofar as they were addressing the same universal issues that concern us as well. We can recreate in our own minds the chain of reasoning that occurred in their minds, and by so doing achieve a sympathetic understanding of their thoughts and insights.

[anonrobt]

The following is from my book Why Atheism? (Prometheus, 2000) It is the second part (of three) of Chapter 6,"Why Philosophy?"

I am posting this because of a discussion that has arisen in the "Moral Certainty" thread. This section explains my position better than I could in brief posts.

I took this draft from an old computer file. I'm not sure if it is exactly the same as the published version, but it should be very close.

II

Progress in Philosophy

Sometimes the most interesting features of a philosopher are his errors, especially those that appear obvious to the modern reader. How can it be, we ask ourselves, that a brilliant, first-rate mind could commit such flagrant blunders? Rather than dismiss such errors as the result of stupidity or mendaciousness, it is far more instructive to ask ourselves how these errors came about, and why they were not as apparent to the philosopher in question as they are to us. We can learn more from the errors of a genius than we can from the mundane truths of a lesser mind.

Consider a common complaint: that philosophy, unlike the special sciences, has not progressed over time, that modern philosophers are still debating the same unresolved problems that vexed the philosophers of ancient Greece. Surely there is something wrong with a discipline that moves perpetually in circles and never comes to rest with definite, widely-accepted conclusions.

There are several things that can be said about this popular criticism. The success or failure of a discipline depends on how well it has achieved its primary goal, so we must first determine the purpose of philosophy before we can assess its progress. This purpose has traditionally been seen as self-enlightenment, i.e., as the intellectual and moral improvement of the individual philosopher. In other words, the goal of philosophy is personal, not social. Even if some of the basic problems in philosophy have been solved (and I think they have) this solution is useless for the person who has not personally thought through the problem for himself and arrived at a reasoned judgment.

In a sense, the individual must relive the history of philosophy in his own mind, going over the classic problems, analyzing them, and arriving at a solution. The microcosm of the individual mind, by reanimating past arguments and controversies, will reflect the macrocosm of philosophy’s history. Only in this way is philosophy a living process rather than a dead subject matter.

This distinguishes philosophy from the natural sciences, such as physics and chemistry. These and other experimental sciences depend on specialization and the division of labor in a way that philosophy does not. No single physicist can hope personally to verify the experimental conclusions of all other physicists by repeating all of their experiments. Rather, he must rely on the standards of public verification that have been established within his own discipline; this is the function of scientific journals and conferences. These outlets allow peer review and debate, which the physicist must rely on when deciding which conclusions and theories he should accept as the basis for his own work. It is by thus building on the work of others that physical science tends to progress through the accumulation of new knowledge. (This does not mean, as is sometimes asserted, that a scientist must accept the work of other scientists on "faith." Rather, it is the purpose of standards within the scientific community to assure that a given scientist can trust the assertions of other scientists with a fairly high degree of probability, if not certainty.)

This is not the method of philosophy, however; philosophy is not the public pursuit of knowledge in this sense. Although the philosopher can (and should) learn from the work of other philosophers, both living and dead, he cannot accept an argument or a conclusion on the basis of peer review. No philosopher worthy of the name would endorse a position merely on the testimony of other philosophers, even if they constitute a large majority. The arguments and conclusions of others are regarded by the philosopher as suggestions and insights that may stimulate his own thinking. But ultimately the philosopher, if he is to accept and utilize the work done by others, must retrace their arguments in his own mind and reach an independent judgment. This stress on independent judgment, based on the autonomy of reason, is and always has been the categorical imperative of pure philosophy.

As previously mentioned, philosophy is the most fundamental of cognitive disciplines, so it cannot look somewhere else for a definition of the philosophic enterprise. Philosophy is autonomous, i.e., self-legislating. It must establish its own identity by determining its proper subject matter, method, and perspective. Different conceptions of the scope and method of philosophy will naturally generate different conclusions. If philosophers cannot agree on what they are doing, it is unlikely they will agree on how to do it or when they are doing it well. This has led to the diversity of philosophic opinions, and this diversity has provided a good deal of fodder for the critics of philosophy. If philosophers cannot even agree on the purpose and standards of their discipline, then how can philosophy claim to be a valid discipline at all? If philosophers cannot even agree on the most basic issues, then how can it be said that philosophy serves a useful purpose?

Here we should recall that philosophy is first and foremost the personal quest for understanding. It is not, like the physical sciences, a public enterprise that depends for its progress on specialization and experimentation. Rather, philosophy is refined common sense. By this I mean that the philosopher deals with the common experience of humankind; he does not appeal to specialized experience, such as experiments undertaken in a laboratory. Philosophy is the systematic analysis of common experience.

If, as I have argued, philosophy is personal rather than public, then the success of philosophy must be measured in personal terms. Philosophic speculation, as conceived by the Greeks, is an end in itself, undertaken for the personal satisfaction and fulfillment of the philosopher. For many Greeks the purpose of philosophy is to develop the sage, or wise man -- the person who lives a contemplative life. Although not everyone would agree with Aristotle that the contemplative life is ultimately the most satisfying kind of life, most of those who engage in philosophizing will agree that it yields personal benefits.

Philosophy is the quest for wisdom; it is a sustained and systematic effort to understand ourselves and the world in which we live. Many people claim that the pursuit of such knowledge has enriched their lives, and there is no reason to doubt such claims. Contrary to its critics, therefore, philosophy does tend to progress, but it does so at the personal level. Measured by this standard, philosophy has succeeded many thousands of times and will continue to do so in the future. .

The counter-claim -- the claim that philosophy represents a cognitive wheel that spins on its axis without moving anywhere -- is based on a mistaken view of philosophy. If philosophy spins on its own axis, this is because the fundamental problems that confront human beings remain basically the same through time and across space. What is the nature of things? What can I know, and how do I know it? How should live my life? These are among the perennial problems of human existence that confront every culture in every era. They are recurring problems that must be addressed anew, not only by every generation, but by every reflective person.

The vast majority of people are content to accept the answers that have been handed down to them by others, whether in the form of religious dogma, cultural norms, political decrees, or some other authoritative source. Philosophy, as it emerged in ancient Greece, was an effort to break free from the restrictive bonds of authority, and to think for oneself. Early philosophers did not abandon mythology and customary beliefs altogether, but they insisted that all knowledge claims, whatever their source, should be subject to criticism and rational scrutiny. If a Greek philosopher believed that we should abide by established customs, he gave reasons for this belief. Even so-called irrationalists in the history of philosophy have understood the need to present arguments for their viewpoint – to present a reasoned defense of irrationalism, so to speak.

If philosophy is primarily the personal pursuit of wisdom, it is also more than that; it does have a public aspect. In Eastern philosophy the pursuit of wisdom was often regarded as a solitary enterprise. The sage retreats within himself and, by clearing his mind of all external influences, achieves true wisdom. For many Eastern philosophers, to argue with others hinders our pursuit of wisdom, because it clutters the mind with needless baggage that obstructs our pure vision of the good, the divine, and so forth.

With some exceptions (such as mysticism), this solitary method has not been characteristic of Western philosophy. From its inception Western philosophy has stressed the interplay of like-minded persons in pursuit of truth. We see this clearly in the Socratic dialogues written by Plato. This was the original meaning of "dialectics" -- i.e., a cooperative exchange of ideas in a common pursuit of knowledge.

This dialectical process, this ongoing exchange of ideas, can occur not only across space, with the living, but also through time, with the dead. A philosophy does not perish with its originator but is given new life every time it encounters a new mind. This gives the history of philosophy (and ideas in general) an immediate relevance that is often missing in more conventional histories that deal with external events and actions.

The history of philosophy is an internal history of the human mind, a chronicle of various attempts to answer the perennial questions of human existence. And despite the individualizing influence of culture and personality on particular philosophers, we can identify with their thinking insofar as they were addressing the same universal issues that concern us as well. We can recreate in our own minds the chain of reasoning that occurred in their minds, and by so doing achieve a sympathetic understanding of their thoughts and insights.

Well said.

[Dragonfly]

Well said.

No need to quote the whole post for that.

[tjohnson]

Philosophy is the quest for wisdom; it is a sustained and systematic effort to understand ourselves and the world in which we live. Many people claim that the pursuit of such knowledge has enriched their lives, and there is no reason to doubt such claims. Contrary to its critics, therefore, philosophy does tend to progress, but it does so at the personal level. Measured by this standard, philosophy has succeeded many thousands of times and will continue to do so in the future.

If philosophy is about some sort of personal development then it is not about "the world in which we live" - that it what the physical sciences are about. Also there can be no "progress" in field that is about personal development, sort of like Transcendental Meditation. One might claim there is much to gain from this activity on a personal level and that may be true but the field of TM is not progressing from one generation to the next.