Why Philosophy?

What is philosophy? Philosophers above all ask this question. This is one of its peculiarities, to question itself. Somebody studying physics does not typically ask, “What is physics?” Somebody who studies criminal justice does not typically ask, “What is criminal justice?” But philosophy ask those questions too, seeing them as absolutely essential to the sensible pursuit of those fields, not just in theory but also in practice. Thus philosophy asks the same question of itself. 

            I have often suggested as the answer: the inquiry into fundamental assumptions (or questions). I have written about what some of those assumptions are, what philosophy’s inquiry into them has had to say about them, and why that all matters. Now I would like to say something about how the inquiry gets going in the first place. 

            A peculiar skill that is honed by philosophical training and practice is becoming aware of assumptions. Once that happens, the philosopher can commence his or her more typical activity of arguing one way or another about a given assumption … simply by flipping it into a question. For example, having discovered that one assumes one exists, or has free will, or perceives physical reality, one can ask (and in that very act become a philosopher), “Do I exist?” or “DoI have free will?” or “Do I perceive physical reality?” 

            But how does one become aware that one has been assuming such things in the first place? Well, there is no general answer to that question: Some particular experience, even a dream, could spark such a revelation. But I do think that philosophy itself (or at least the kind I was trained in, so-called analytic philosophy) offers a more systematic method, simply by being generally skeptical and inquiring and also forever alert to ambiguity. 

            So for example, a friend of mine recently (in the time of the pandemic) sent me this message in an email: 

Do you wear a mask on your walks?  I don't.  I see people walking all by themselves with a mask on or driving in their car all by themselves with a mask on.  Is that taking the mask wearing too far?  I do put a mask on whenever I enter a store and that has been mandated and if I found myself in a group of people I would put it on.  But when I am outside and no one else is close or around I go mask free.  Is my mask etiquette faulty? 

            I replied as follows: 

No, I hardly ever wear a mask. Like you, I would certainly wear one indoors or in a group or crowd and probably on a city street, but since I'm never indoors (other than my own house) or in a group or a crowd or on a city street, it’s not an issue. So I too find it bizarre that some people wear a mask when no one else is around. But there can be reasons for that. For example, someone driving alone in a car might have just given a friend a ride somewhere, or be borrowing someone else’s car, and be a little wary of what might be lingering in the air of those closed quarters. Or when out walking, it is a commonplace, I myself have discovered, to suddenly come upon another person at close quarters unexpectedly, such as when turning a corner. Remember also that the best reason to wear a mask is to protect others, not yourself, so a person could be extra-scrupulous for that reason alone. Yet another consideration is that touching your own mask is completely counterproductive, so if you've been somewhere where you really needed to wear the mask, like the local foodstore, then you might be well advised not to remove the mask until you got back home and could remove it safely. 

Being a philosopher was useful to me in addressing my friend’s query or wonderment because I have been trained to think of reasons for anything, no matter how bizarre at first appearance (for example, reasons for thinking that I might not really exist). And what is quite amazing is that once you do start to think in this way, even your most fundamental certainties can begin to melt away … and even come to appear obviously false, or just plain absurd! 

That is surely why any entrenched interest – a government regime, a religious institution, etc. ad inf. -- strives to suppress philosophizing. It can be deemed downright dangerous, as a deteriorating agency that would lead ultimately to nihilism. 

I can certainly attest to the truth of this anxiety. I myself have become a nihilist of sorts. But naturally I can also see distinct benefits of becoming so. And of course that should come as no surprise if you’ve been paying attention, because that is itself just another illustration of how a philosopher can find reasons for anything, no matter how absurd at first appearance. 

My current view of the overall matter is what I call the philosophy of yes and no (thanks to my mentor Joel Kupperman’s answering many questions with “yes and no”): There are not so much truths and falsities as there are reasons for thinking yes and other reasons for thinking no about any issue. Then what? After all, we have to make decisions from time to time; life is not just a philosophical classroom where inquiry can run riot to no effect. My answer: Having been exposed to various reasons on both sides of a question, one will naturally form a preference. I especially advocate rational reflection on the reasons. 

It may still seem an objection that the final upshot could very well be opposing preferences resulting from just such reflection by different people. Yes, I fully acknowledge that sort of relativism. But I simply don’t see a way around it other than to impose a dictatorship of thought. But I also don’t think it is at all unusual or necessarily an insurmountable problem. For example, even while disagreeing about many particular issues, a group of minimally like-minded people could agree to a set of rules of adjudicating disagreements. Isn’t this exactly what a legislature is? 

I like philosophy, therefore, because its general attitude of skepticism and inquiry leads (seemingly ironically) to empathy and even at times sympathy for those with whom we disagree. A reduction of antipathy seems to me the likely result, which strikes me as intrinsically good and something having all sorts of benign further effects. Also, by having heightened ambiguity detectors, philosophers are able to reduce misunderstandings that generate faux disagreements to begin with; for it is, in my opinion, more the norm than the exception that when people disagree about something, they have not really been communicating in the first place, because they have been using various terms differently without realizing it, since almost every word in the dictionary has multiple meanings. 

Finally I see philosophy as very good at generating hypotheses – again, by stimulating thought simply by asking previously unasked questions -- which can then be tested by other means, including of course science but also sometimes be seen (or rationally seem) to be true immediately simply by becoming aware of them, and thereby at times overturning some entrenched, previously unexamined assumption, not uncommonly to significant effect. Of course an inquiry could confirm an assumption as well; but it is the critical function that seems philosophy’s strong suit.