Has Philosophy Gone Wrong? [EvolutionBlog]

Philosophers Robert Frodeman and Adam Briggle believe that it has. They make their case in this essay, posted at The New York Times.

The history of Western philosophy can be presented in a number of ways. It can be told in terms of periods — ancient, medieval and modern. We can divide it into rival traditions (empiricism versus rationalism, analytic versus Continental), or into various core areas (metaphysics, epistemology, ethics). It can also, of course, be viewed through the critical lens of gender or racial exclusion, as a discipline almost entirely fashioned for and by white European men.

Yet despite the richness and variety of these accounts, all of them pass over a momentous turning point: the locating of philosophy within a modern institution (the research university) in the late 19th century. This institutionalization of philosophy made it into a discipline that could be seriously pursued only in an academic setting. This fact represents one of the enduring failures of contemporary philosophy.

Take this simple detail: Before its migration to the university, philosophy had never had a central home. Philosophers could be found anywhere — serving as diplomats, living off pensions, grinding lenses, as well as within a university. Afterward, if they were “serious” thinkers, the expectation was that philosophers would inhabit the research university. Against the inclinations of Socrates, philosophers became experts like other disciplinary specialists. This occurred even as they taught their students the virtues of Socratic wisdom, which highlights the role of the philosopher as the non-expert, the questioner, the gadfly.

I am one of those who is sometimes ambivalent about the value of academic philosophy. I think philosophers sometimes delight in complexifying simple issues rather than simplifying complex issues. And some of their projects–like trying to define “knowledge” or coming up with the correct “account” of probability–seem quixotic to me.

But it seems to me that Frodeman and Briggle are putting a rather gloomy spin on some pretty happy developments.

The relocation of philosophy within universities has made it possible for a large number of people, including these authors, to make a living doing philosophy. Philosophers can still be found everywhere–if you define your terms loosely enough you can find them braying on cable news every night–but the philosophy they produce, then as now, is of a decidedly low quality. The effect of philosophy becoming a proper discipline has been the production of better philosophy. Why is that to be lamented?

Skipping ahead:

There is another layer to this story. The act of purification accompanying the creation of the modern research university was not just about differentiating realms of knowledge. It was also about divorcing knowledge from virtue. Though it seems foreign to us now, before purification the philosopher (and natural philosopher) was assumed to be morally superior to other sorts of people. The 18th-century thinker Joseph Priestley wrote “a Philosopher ought to be something greater and better than another man.” Philosophy, understood as the love of wisdom, was seen as a vocation, like the priesthood. It required significant moral virtues (foremost among these were integrity and selflessness), and the pursuit of wisdom in turn further inculcated those virtues. The study of philosophy elevated those who pursued it. Knowing and being good were intimately linked. It was widely understood that the point of philosophy was to become good rather than simply to collect or produce knowledge.

This also seems like a positive development. Philosophers have never been morally superior to other sorts of people, and it is for the best that such an attitude seems foreign to us today. And I don’t think knowledge and virtue have ever had any particular connection to one another.

On the other hand, if I may broaden their language, there is certainly a connection between education and the strength of a culture. That is the ethos underlying the idea of a liberal education after all. Civilization is strengthened when people have some shared knowledge of art and literature, basic science and mathematics, and an awareness of other cultures. That idea is alive and kicking, though it sometimes seems it is under attack. To the extent that this idea has been weakened in recent years it is mostly because of outside economic pressures and not because of anything philosophy departments have been doing or not doing.

Throughout their essay, Frodeman and Briggle seem to be lamenting the esoteric nature of philosophical research and its divorce from broader societal concerns. That is a problem that confronts every academic subject, but I get the impression that things have changed. It wasn’t that long ago that people like Carl Sagan and even Stephen Jay Gould were mocked as mere science popularizers, but I think that attitude has become much harder to find. If may use myself as an example, I spend most of my non-teaching mathematical time these days writing popular books and articles, or confronting creationist pseudoscience. I have received nothing but support from my fellow academics for this, including those hailing from more research-focused institutions than mine. No doubt there are a few snoots in the upper echelons who might look down their nose at my activities, but increasingly they are the ones who are viewed as weird.

My impression is that that is the case in philosophy as well. People like Massimo Pigliucci, Robert Pennock, and Philip Kitcher routinely write at a popular level and address concerns that go beyond the walls of the academy, but I do not have the impression they are regarded as pariahs for doing so.

At any rate, there is plenty more to the essay than I have quoted here, and apparently the whole thing is basically an excerpt from a new book of theirs, so go have a look.

from ScienceBlogs http://ift.tt/1JJERUJ

Philosophers Robert Frodeman and Adam Briggle believe that it has. They make their case in this essay, posted at The New York Times.

The history of Western philosophy can be presented in a number of ways. It can be told in terms of periods — ancient, medieval and modern. We can divide it into rival traditions (empiricism versus rationalism, analytic versus Continental), or into various core areas (metaphysics, epistemology, ethics). It can also, of course, be viewed through the critical lens of gender or racial exclusion, as a discipline almost entirely fashioned for and by white European men.

Yet despite the richness and variety of these accounts, all of them pass over a momentous turning point: the locating of philosophy within a modern institution (the research university) in the late 19th century. This institutionalization of philosophy made it into a discipline that could be seriously pursued only in an academic setting. This fact represents one of the enduring failures of contemporary philosophy.

Take this simple detail: Before its migration to the university, philosophy had never had a central home. Philosophers could be found anywhere — serving as diplomats, living off pensions, grinding lenses, as well as within a university. Afterward, if they were “serious” thinkers, the expectation was that philosophers would inhabit the research university. Against the inclinations of Socrates, philosophers became experts like other disciplinary specialists. This occurred even as they taught their students the virtues of Socratic wisdom, which highlights the role of the philosopher as the non-expert, the questioner, the gadfly.

I am one of those who is sometimes ambivalent about the value of academic philosophy. I think philosophers sometimes delight in complexifying simple issues rather than simplifying complex issues. And some of their projects–like trying to define “knowledge” or coming up with the correct “account” of probability–seem quixotic to me.

But it seems to me that Frodeman and Briggle are putting a rather gloomy spin on some pretty happy developments.

The relocation of philosophy within universities has made it possible for a large number of people, including these authors, to make a living doing philosophy. Philosophers can still be found everywhere–if you define your terms loosely enough you can find them braying on cable news every night–but the philosophy they produce, then as now, is of a decidedly low quality. The effect of philosophy becoming a proper discipline has been the production of better philosophy. Why is that to be lamented?

Skipping ahead:

There is another layer to this story. The act of purification accompanying the creation of the modern research university was not just about differentiating realms of knowledge. It was also about divorcing knowledge from virtue. Though it seems foreign to us now, before purification the philosopher (and natural philosopher) was assumed to be morally superior to other sorts of people. The 18th-century thinker Joseph Priestley wrote “a Philosopher ought to be something greater and better than another man.” Philosophy, understood as the love of wisdom, was seen as a vocation, like the priesthood. It required significant moral virtues (foremost among these were integrity and selflessness), and the pursuit of wisdom in turn further inculcated those virtues. The study of philosophy elevated those who pursued it. Knowing and being good were intimately linked. It was widely understood that the point of philosophy was to become good rather than simply to collect or produce knowledge.

This also seems like a positive development. Philosophers have never been morally superior to other sorts of people, and it is for the best that such an attitude seems foreign to us today. And I don’t think knowledge and virtue have ever had any particular connection to one another.

On the other hand, if I may broaden their language, there is certainly a connection between education and the strength of a culture. That is the ethos underlying the idea of a liberal education after all. Civilization is strengthened when people have some shared knowledge of art and literature, basic science and mathematics, and an awareness of other cultures. That idea is alive and kicking, though it sometimes seems it is under attack. To the extent that this idea has been weakened in recent years it is mostly because of outside economic pressures and not because of anything philosophy departments have been doing or not doing.

Throughout their essay, Frodeman and Briggle seem to be lamenting the esoteric nature of philosophical research and its divorce from broader societal concerns. That is a problem that confronts every academic subject, but I get the impression that things have changed. It wasn’t that long ago that people like Carl Sagan and even Stephen Jay Gould were mocked as mere science popularizers, but I think that attitude has become much harder to find. If may use myself as an example, I spend most of my non-teaching mathematical time these days writing popular books and articles, or confronting creationist pseudoscience. I have received nothing but support from my fellow academics for this, including those hailing from more research-focused institutions than mine. No doubt there are a few snoots in the upper echelons who might look down their nose at my activities, but increasingly they are the ones who are viewed as weird.

My impression is that that is the case in philosophy as well. People like Massimo Pigliucci, Robert Pennock, and Philip Kitcher routinely write at a popular level and address concerns that go beyond the walls of the academy, but I do not have the impression they are regarded as pariahs for doing so.

At any rate, there is plenty more to the essay than I have quoted here, and apparently the whole thing is basically an excerpt from a new book of theirs, so go have a look.

from ScienceBlogs http://ift.tt/1JJERUJ