Invitation to philosophy

It was a beautiful morning of motorcycling in the Texas Hill Country interrupted by a moment’s distraction.

Matthew misjudges a curve and slams into the tree; he is mangled, bleeding. Someone passes, calls 911. EMS arrives, and it is obvious that Matthew has suffered a major head injury: he is nonresponsive and unconscious, but alive. He is airlifted to a hospital; physicians examine him and assess his injuries. A large portion of Matthew’s brain has been destroyed in the crash. The destruction is worst in the cerebrum, they say — the part of the brain that plays a central role in all those characteristics that make us human. The emergency room team recognizes that Matthew’s brain injuries are so extensive that he will never regain consciousness. The best outcome would be a “persistent vegetative state.” Many frantic minutes later, Matthew is alive, but only by virtue of life-support equipment: a ventilator, IV nourishment, drugs to stabilize his body’s functions.

In the event he becomes incapacitated, Matthew instructs his sisters, Alexandria and Bethany, to determine jointly what course of treatment should be administered. He specifically states that they must agree, “after due deliberation, taking account of all available information.”

The attending physician has Matthew transferred to the critical care unit and calls for the hospital social worker, who is given the task of contacting the sisters. According to Matthew’s instructions, there is nothing for the medical staff to do now but wait for the sisters to arrive. Only they are authorized to decide what to do next.

Start Here

σωφρονεῖν ἀρετὴ μεγίστη καὶ σοφίη ἀληθέα λέγειν καὶ ποιεῖν κατὰ φύσιν ἐπαΐοντας.

Understanding is the greatest excellence, and wisdom is speaking truth and acting according to the nature of things.

Herakleitos, DK 112, my translation

In an introductory course, the first order of business would seem to be to identify the subjectmatter to be surveyed. In most cases, this task is fairly straightforward. If you sign up for a course introducing poetry or human anatomy, for instance, you have a pretty good idea what the course will be about, so raising a question like what the course is going to be about might seem silly. But in philosophy it’s not silly to ask a question like this: There are philosophical reasons why we need to ask what philosophy is; we’ll talk more about that shortly.

At any rate, the best practical reason for such a basic question may be that most people aren’t too sure what philosophy is anyway. In fact, when people ask me what I do for a living, and I tell them I teach philosophy, they often think (after the usual jokes about my being a philosopher) that I teach psychology. So, it makes some sense to start by asking, What is philosophy?

Whenever we ask a question like "What is X?" we usually expect the answer to be something like a definition. There are plenty of details to sort out, but a definition of, say, human anatomy isn’t likely to be much of a controversy among people who teach it. In philosophy, however, this approach is problematic, mainly because different philosophical schools and traditions have been hard-headed about their own definitions of philosophy. And even worse, from a particular point of view, armed with a particular definition of philosophy, other definitions may be labeled as fatally flawed, silly, or, worse yet, as not even "real" philosophy.

So, what should I do to introduce philosophy to you? Should I give you a list of schools and their definitions? Would that take us to the heart of philosophy? I have reservations about that approach. In the competing voices, it seems to me something vital is lost.

One way through this mess might be for me to tell you which of these schools is correct. But again, each of the schools is convinced that it is the right way to do philosophy, and that conviction is usually accompanied by an equally deep conviction that everyone else is off base. So, if I introduce you to philosophy by giving you my definition of philosophy, others may justly accuse me of stacking the deck in my favor. And if we use my definition, I may even be cheating you out of seeing the richness (and rancor) that philosophy really is.

The lack of agreement among philosophers, even about very basic issues, has not gone unnoticed. Some people have taken this as an indication that there’s nothing going on in philosophy important enough to justify wasting time trying to figure out what philosophy is. People have even argued that there is no such thing as philosophy to begin with. Some of them argue that philosophy is actually a confused and nasty habit of language — and the sooner we all give up such bad habits, the better. Oddly enough, when they give reasons for this claim, they give us — Are you ready for this? — philosophical arguments!

I am not one of those philosophers who reject philosophy, but I do recognize that trying to give an answer to the "simple" question, "What is philosophy?" is already a philosophical problem. Let me help you see why.

People who argue that philosophy is alive and well, and those who think philosophy is a bad habit that should be broken — and every one else in between — all have views that depend on particular ways of thinking about the world (the “Big Picture"). So, a lot is riding on whose view of the “Big Picture" is correct. Even philosophers who argue that we can never know whose view is correct have reasons why we can't know, and those reasons themselves seem to depend on some view of the Big Picture. So actually, you can't reject philosophy without being philosophical about it.

The striking thing about all these claims about philosophy is that the sorts of things people say to support their claims are similar in certain ways, even if it's only a family resemblance. This suggests that doing philosophy may be what they all have in common, rather than some body of established "philosophical facts" or definitions.

Suppose I go out on a limb here and say that what's important in philosophy is the methodology. Let’s call it “thinking philosophically” — which of course is no help in defining philosophy. Nevertheless, suppose we agree that looking at doing philosophy is a better approach than giving definitions, even though there will still be disagreement among schools of philosophy. Now what?

We could start our investigation by focusing on how philosophers do philosophy: We could examine tools and methods for doing that kind of thinking — argument, conceptual analysis — the list is long. That would allow us to bypass, at least for now, the controversies about which doctrines are correct. So far, so good.

But thinking of tools and methods for thinking makes me wonder: What in the World is there to think philosophically about? If we don’t pay some attention to that first question, we’ll end up with beautifully refined tools, but we won’t know what they are for. We’ll have no job to do with them.

What’s philosophy for?

It may seem that we aren't making progress, since we have just backed away from two main ways of approaching philosophy, definition and method. Actually, if we become convinced that a particular approach is heading the wrong way, then we have made some progress: At least we won't keep banging our heads on the same wall. A lot of philosophy has been about trying to figure out what the right questions are. So, if we can eliminate some questions because they get us off on the wrong foot, we are that much ahead. In the previous section, I’m really arguing that the question What is the definition of “philosophy”? is one of those questions that puts us on the wrong path.

One of my reasons for rejecting that wrong path is that it may lead us to conclude that the “norm” of philosophy is our philosophy — the Western tradition. Most of our course will indeed focus on the Western philosophical tradition, but we need to keep constantly in mind that it’s a very big world out there, and there are many philosophical traditions that offer deep insight into human existence. One of the benefits of rejecting questions that seem to stack the deck in favor of one tradition or school is that we can be open to more possibilities.

Still, eliminating questions that obviously lead to problems doesn't really get us very far either. We need a clue, and I'm ready to propose one. Let’s set aside the problem of saying what philosophy is and what it does, and and let’s see what it is that gets philosophy going in the first place — "from the inside." This will also be a departure from the usual teaching strategy. Instead of the teacher-just-tell-me-the-answer method, let me conjure up an experience of philosophy and invite you to get involved in it, so you can start to get a grip on doing philosophy yourself. Here's the clue:

Let's begin at the beginning. Why would anyone start thinking philosophically? Where does philosophical thinking come from? What kicks it off? What do we think we will get for our efforts?

This is where Alexandria and Bethany come in. In their story, Matthew and his living will have given Alexandria and Bethany a lot to think about. No doubt they realize that their initial question (whether to pull the plug) is only the beginning. The real controversy runs much deeper, even though they may not see it until their deliberations take them beneath the surface of their quandary.

As you probably saw, Alexandria subscribes to what we might be tempted to call a "scientific” world view, according to which the person Matthew is whatever Matthew is physically. All his characteristics, however lofty or noble, are rooted in his bodily nature. On her view, there is nothing else to consider than these “scientific” facts, since such facts exhaust what there is to say about Matthew and his condition. Having reviewed the physicians’ findings and diagnosis — the relevant facts in this case — Alexandria asserts that the answer is really rather simple: No brain process means no more Matthew, and no hope of viable brain process means no hope for Matthew. Unplug what's left and make room for someone else. The person Matthew is already gone. However significant it may be for other reasons, Alexandria believes that allowing Matthew's body to die does not amount to allowing Matthew to die: by this point, the person Matthew has already ceased to exist.

Bethany rejects this appraisal of the situation. She never denies the importance of the physical world and the "medical facts"; it’s just that, for her, they don't tell the whole story. On Bethany’s view, things beyond the world of our senses must be taken into account as well. Bethany claims that the real Matthew is rooted in a particular sort of being that is not touched with the hand or seen with the eye. That being is a soul. She is reluctant to pull the plug because there is no doubt in her mind that severing the tie between a living body and a soul is a momentous event. Surely breaking that tie will affect the "career" of the soul: Will it benefit that soul on its journey? Or would it be an interruption of that journey? And she has an additional concern: Is she placing herself in moral jeopardy as well? What if it is murder?

Alexandria has trouble getting her head around Bethany’s view because, to put it simply, she sees that the person Matthew ended at the moment that his brain’s functions can no longer produce and sustain that person. Bethany’s reaction to Alexandria is that Alexandria is abandoning Matthew, but obviously that’s because she thinks that Matthew still exists to be abandoned. In one sense, the sisters are looking at the same “facts”; in another sense, they experience different worlds — worlds in which different things demand to be included in their deliberations. At first — meaning, before they do much philosophical thinking — their views slip past each other, like those proverbial ships in the night.

The Gates of Philosophy

ἐὰν μὴ ἔλπηται ἀνέλπιστον οὐκ ἐξευρήσει, ἀνεξερεύνητον ἐὸν καὶ ἄπορον.

Expect the unexpected or you will not find it — unsearchable and impassible.

Herakleitos, DK 18, my translation

A bit of reflection on the sisters’ story brings to light that their disagreement runs much deeper than a dispute over what should be done. Future action is definitely in dispute here, but the more substantial disagreement is over how to approach the question of what should be done. Alexandria and Bethany bring to this question different — perhaps incompatible — views of what must be taken into account in looking for an answer. Since this is my thought experiment, let me further stipulate that, contrary to U.S. custom, Bethany and Alexandria decide to deliberate together rather than file lawsuits. It seems inevitable that, at some point in their discussion, they must face this divergence of beliefs on what counts in deliberation. When they do, things are going to get interesting.

Naturally, they will start with the question of what to do about Matthew’s instructions. As Alexandria makes her case for throwing out what’s left of Matthew, she will appeal to "facts" about the situation. The sort of fact Alexandria is going to admit will be the tangible, "see-for-yourself" kind. We’ve already noticed that is the sort of thinking people commonly associate with science. Bethany may very well accept those facts, but she will argue that facts of that sort are not the only things in the world that count; there’s more to it than what we can see or touch.

But what happens when Alexandria demands that Bethany produce evidence for souls? The cards seem to be stacked against Bethany by Alexandria’s criteria for what counts as ”evidence." For Alexandria, the only sort of evidence that should count is the tangible sort, and that is exactly what Bethany cannot produce, since, according to her view, souls, by definition, are not physical, tangible things in the world. So, it appears that further discussion of what to do with Matthew or Matthew's body will be hindered by what each is willing to admit into the discussion as evidence.

Things are no better for Bethany. She will assume that souls must count, and when Alexandria balks, Bethany may well demand that Alexandria prove that material things are the only things that count. It’s so obvious to Bethany that souls exist that no argument from the “facts” will dissuade her. To Bethany, factual arguments about Matthew aren’t wrong; they are just incomplete.

If the discussion is to proceed, then, it will have to move to an even deeper level, the level of trying to ascertain what should count in the deliberation. Here open the Gates of Philosophy.

A little thought will enable you to see that if they are to make progress in determining what should count, they need to find out what sorts of things there are in the world that might count.

Actually, they need to know a lot more — like how we know about those basic sorts of things, how they fit together, why appealing to some them "works" in giving explanations and deciding on how to act, and so on. Like the sisters, we will think a lot more about these matters as our exploration unfolds.

To think about these issues, the sisters need to know what might count, and to find out, they will need to investigate the "big picture" of the world — in other words, they will find themselves asking about the ultimate nature of reality.

At the outset, each of the sisters knows (or thinks she knows) what there is in the world and what counts in deliberation. Borrowing a term from the great Spanish philosopher, Ortega y Gassett, let's call a perspective or view of the biggest possible Big Picture a basic orientation in the world. It’s very tricky to spell out what we mean by “basic orientation,” but Ortega gives us a clue: It’s everything we count on as we navigate in the world. To grossly oversimplify, Alexandria counts on material things to tell the whole story, but Bethany counts on both material things and at least one sort of nonmaterial thing, souls. That’s how each of them “makes her way,” navigating around the world. It’s what we count on in the world that orients us.

So now we are in a position to see that the sisters' deepest problem is that they disagree about basic orientation in the world. When we think about things in this way, we see that the sisters’ initial disagreement about what to do about Matthew (Bethany’s view) or about Matthew’s body (Alexandria’s view) leads them all the way down to questions about the ultimate nature of reality. We might say that what they will have to look for is the (a?) proper basic orientation — the "best" or "most true" or something of the sort. What is the right way to find your way around in the world?

Here is where the really serious problems begin: Since everything we think we know depends on some basic orientation, what does it mean to say that a basic orientation is "true" or "best"? How can basic orientations be compared? Do we even know that they can they be compared? Or does each basic orientation stand by itself, entirely apart from all others?

And how can they stand apart from each other? Think about Bethany and Alexandria: Their basic orientations seem compatible when we’re fixing a leaky pipe or cooking dinner. In fact, if it weren’t for Matthew’s living will, would they ever have known how much they disagree about what is ultimately real?

So it happens that Alexandria and Bethany must ask questions that lie at the heart of philosophy:

• What is the ultimate nature of reality?
• How can we get in a position to know anything about the ultimate nature of reality?
• And, if we can give any sort of answers to those questions, what ought we do?

In the Western philosophical tradition, the branch of philosophy that deals with theories of reality is metaphysics, and the branch that deals with matters of knowledge is epistemology. The third question gets at the heart of the third branch, value theory.I envision Alexandria and Bethany in an argument about metaphysics and epistemology and value, with Matthew — or Matthew’s body, depending on your basic orientation — lying nearby, oblivious to it all.

You may find this hard to believe, but I have not told this story to invite you to take sides.

We obviously have serious questions about whose view is correct (whatever "correct" might mean when applied to a basic orientation), but we aren’t sure — at least not at this early stage — how to approach this question. There will be time for that debate (and others). And I do not expect you to understand every bit of the "technicalities" of these philosophical reflections; there will be time for that as well.

What I am trying to show you is that we can (and we do: Ask Alexandria and Bethany!) encounter situations that invite us to think philosophically, all the way down. This is an improvement over giving definitions or stipulating methods, because it points to the human need that philosophy answers. Even better, this allows us to see other philosophical traditions in the light of our common human experience.

Consider this poem:

It is true that we leave, truly we part.
We leave the flowers, the songs, and the earth.
It is true that we go; it is true that we part!

. . .

Where do we go, aoh! Where do we go?
Are we dead beyond, or do we yet live?
Will there be existence again?
Will the joy of the Giver of Life be there again?

(Cantares Mexicanos, fol 61.r)

This poem was written in Classical Nahuatl by poet-philosophers who were examining the deepest questions and longings of the human condition. As you reflect on this poem, consider this: The tradition that produced this poem was the Aztec culture, long before contact with Europeans or the Conquest. In case you’re inclined to think, “Well, that’s poetry,” consider the fact that the Western philosophical tradition originated in poetry too: Hesiod and Homer, for instance.

One of the most striking things about this poem from a “distant” culture in a language that most of us have only encountered in the traces it left on Spanish and, eventually English (words like avocado, for instance!) — one of the most striking things about it is that it asks a profoundly human question: Is this it? Or is there something beyond this life?

This is my strongest argument for starting our course not with a definition or a set of “critical thinking” tools, but in the trenches of human experience, where we ask the often-anguished questions that prompt philosophizing in the first place. This approach allows us to see beyond our own artificial boundaries, perhaps to glimpse a common human desire for understanding, for orientation in the world, for meaning.

In such situations, we are forced beyond what counts and what we count on in our own basic orientation, to consider other possibilities. We may even end up having to examine what it means to have a basic orientation in the world. It can be quite uncomfortable.

And speaking of comfort, notice that neither science nor religion can help the sisters resolve these questions — or us. As powerfully orienting as science and religion can be, each already depends on a particular basic orientation within which it makes sense. In fact, it seems that, from inside a basic orientation it hardly makes sense to question the foundations of that orientation. Asking that sort of question is like asking, “Do material things exist in the world?” When you’re holding a cup of espresso, the answer is just obvious.

From “inside” the arena of a basic orientation, the bits and pieces of that basic orientation have a claim on us that seems self-evident and self-justifying. To Bethany, it’s plainly obvious that souls count in the deliberation; but it’s equally obvious to Alexandria that they can’t — because there aren’t any souls to count.

If you think about it, questioning one’s basic orientation is like using a map to find your way around a city, and then — standing on Main Street in broad daylight — asking, "What if this map is wrong?" It’s only when we encounter situations that force us through the gates of philosophy that we start asking questions that might seem absurd the rest of the time, when things are going smoothly.

Think of Alexandria and Bethany’s quandary as a signpost pointing toward this unfamiliar territory: That is where our exploration will take us.

Questions for conversation

• What are some of the main features of Bethany’s basic orientation? How does her basic orientation shape her assessment of Matthew and his situation?
• What are some of the main features of Alexandria’s basic orientation? How does her basic orientation shape her assessment of Matthew and his situation
• What are the different levels of disagreement between the sisters? What would it take for the sisters to address these levels of disagreement?

A brief introduction to philosophical thinking

At the end of the previous section, I gave you some questions to consider — “conversation starters.” While it can (and I hope it will be!) entertaining to have these conversations, there’s actually a point to these questions: They help you exercise your philosophical thinking skills. Just like other forms of exercise, it’s not a “one and done” proposal: You have to keep at it, if you want to get stronger.

This is a brief exercise designed to get you going. After you have read (and thought about!) Bethany and Alexandria’s quandary, and after you’ve had a few conversations about their situation, work through these questions. You are not required to submit this exercise, but you might want to consider discussing your thoughts with your classmates.

Grounded Summary

One of the most basic skills you will need in this course is careful, thoughtful listening, which means paying attention to what someone is actually saying (as opposed to what you would like someone to be saying!). A “grounded summary” is essentially reporting what you hear with evidence to back it up.

Note that people “say” things in lots of ways, like live speaking or in writing, so reading should be viewed as listening, too. At any rate, a grounded summary helps you focus on exactly what the story says. Be sure to check your answers against what the story actually says about the sisters' situation — and what the sisters themselves actually say. If you cannot point to a specific things you “heard — a particular sentence from the text, for instance — to support what you report in your summary, then you need to consider the possibility that you are projecting your own views or wishes into their story. And if you are, then you are not listening to their story; you're listening to your own story!

Each of the main bullets (in bold) below proposes an area of investigation for your summary. The questions that follow are intended to help you deepen and respond to the main question.

• What is the sisters’ “problem”?
  • What is their motivating conflict? In other words, what is it that "poses" their problem?
  • What are the parameters (i.e., the “facts,”) that structure their situation?
    • What elements of the story can the sisters change?
    • What elements of the story cannot be changed?
• What are Bethany’s views and how do they shape her appraisal of Matthew and his situation?
  • What is Bethany’s appraisal of Matthew's situation?
  • How does Bethany’s appraisal to Matthew's situation reveal her beliefs about the world?
  • How do Bethany’s beliefs influence her interpretation of the "facts" of the situation?
• What are Alexandria’s views and how do they shape her appraisal of Matthew and his situation?
  • What is Alexandria's appraisal of Matthew's situation?
  • How does Alexandria’s appraisal to Matthew's situation reveal her beliefs about the world?
  • How do Alexandria's beliefs influence her interpretation of the "facts" of the situation?
• What are the levels of disagreement between the sisters?
  • What is the most superficial disagreement between the sisters?
  • Why does this “problem” lead to deeper questions?
  • What is the “deepest” level of disagreement?
  • Why must the sisters deal with this level?

Clarification of your own presuppositions

If you are thinking, How can I listen without letting what I already know and believe influence what I hear?, then you have just asked one of the most difficult — and one of the most interesting — questions about being a human being. Can we really "shut off" everything we know, every experience we've had, every belief, attitude — everything that might influence what we hear from someone else?

Of course not — and if we did somehow listen as a completely blank slate, then we wouldn't hear anything at all! We need our own knowledge and experience to interpret anything!

So, what is the difference between the kind of listening we are trying to exercise and the kind of listening that isn't listening? This is a very tricky issue, but one main ingredient in listening is to treat our understanding as hypothetical and keep checking. If we keep asking questions to check our interpretations, then we are less likely to listen in a way that blocks understanding. That’s what “grounded” means in “grounded summary.” It's not as easy as it sounds — as we shall see.

One of the greatest barriers to understanding another person or learning a new viewpoint is that we navigate the world as if our own perspective of the world is the most natural and therefore “correct” view anyone could take. Sometimes, in order to understand the point of view of another person, it is necessary to "suspend" your own convictions temporarily so they don't get in the way of understanding. To do this effectively, we need to identify exactly what our deep convictions are. Learning to clarify own own deep convictions and presuppositions is a skill that grounded summary helps you exercise, sort of like shadow-boxing. Grounded summary always involves contrasting what we’rehearing with what we already believe.

So, let’s investigate our own convictions a bit:

• What basic beliefs or convictions do you already have regarding Matthew's situation?
  • With which sister do you most identify?
    • Is your identification mainly based on your emotional reaction?
    • Is your identification mainly based on beliefs that you have in common with that sister?
  • What does your emotional reaction to this situation tell you about your convictions?
• Are you self-critical about your own views?
  • What impact do you think your own presuppositions has on your understanding of the story?
    • Do you think that your own views regarding the situation may make it more difficult for you to understand the one sister’s perspective than the other? How?
  • What could you do to improve your understanding of the “other” sister's point of view?

”Philosophical Thinking 101"

Let's assume that the two sisters take Matthew seriously and decide to reason out their problem (instead of filing lawsuits or having lots of therapy, for instance):

• Consider the sister with whom you most identify: What help (advice, input, etc.) would you offer her in making her case?
  • Do you have any reasons or evidence that would be of use in this discussion?
  • Do you think your help would be the deciding factor in the sisters’ discussion?
• Suppose the other sister says, "I am not convinced by your argument."
  • What are some possible reasons why she is not convinced?
  • What could you do to make your argument stronger?
• Why are the two grounded summarizing skills discussed above (reporting with evidence and clarifying your own presuppositions) important in understanding this story?
  • Do you see any practical application of these skills in ordinary life? List some examples.

Have you made a sincere effort to respond to these questions? If so, you’re ready to go on.