Anyone for philosophy?

For a great many people, if various discussions I’ve had are any indicator, philosophy represents a sort of pointless indulgence. They see it as little more than a game, in the way chess is a game, where one can while away the hours constructing and defending positions while seeking out weaknesses in the opposing points of view. Ultimately though, comes the claim, nothing is established, no understanding is advanced. Common sense is more than enough to get us through when grappling with questions of ethics or reality. In essence, philosophy is painted as a marginally acceptable leisure activity. Those who indulge in it are treated with a certain suspicion.

One of the reasons I enjoy introducing philosophy into my novels is that I’m pretty sure the view I outlined above is bogus. While I don’t think engagement with philosophy is a necessary part of life, any more than ice skating is necessary, I think it’s wrong to dismiss the field as unhelpful or unimportant. What’s more, I think it’s tremendously easy to show where the error lies. People who make the case above are themselves indulging in a philosophical argument, and as such, they’re not really making a case against philosophy. Rather, they’re making the case that they should be allowed to continue doing their very bad philosophy, untroubled by the challenges of rigorous analysis.

Can I justify that claim? While philosophy covers a very broad range of questions and investigations, one of its key drivers is the question of knowledge. What do we mean, when we say we know something, or believe something to be true? Which types of knowledge, if any, are valid? Which of our beliefs should be treated as speculative? How can we go about building more reliable, or perhaps reasonable, models of our world? When models or interpretations compete, is there a way of deciding which is best, or are we forever trapped in a world of accepting any view as valid, so long as it is sincerely held?
It’s through addressing these bigger questions that we come to create systems for analysing our own sets of beliefs and impulses. Try some of these questions on for size: Can conscious experience extend beyond the life of the physical brain (is life after death possible, likely?) Does science tell us about reality, or does it just give us models for dealing with our interpretation of reality? Is there a God, or perhaps many Gods, or are there none? If we find a belief useful, is that the same as it being true? What test of truth could there be, other than usefulness?… There would be little problem extending this list for pages.

Now, here’s the thing. Maybe, for some of the questions above, your honest answer is ‘don’t know, don’t care.’ But I’m betting that most people reading this will have beliefs/opinions on at least some of them. And, I would argue, to have an opinion on these is to hold to a particular philosophical position. What’s more, if you’re going to hold a philosophical position, as most of us do, most of the time, then why object to those who want to ground that position in the best scholarship available? Why not be open to the counter position, the nuance, the implication? Why not, in other words, aspire to a degree of smartness?

For teenagers a failure to engage in philosophy runs the very real risk of a generation unable to analyse the cultural assumptions they marinate in. And that becomes a problem in any society where there’s a degree of diversity, because if we can’t dig beneath the fictions we’ve been taught to see as facts, then we’re in a tremendously poor position to assess the stories that other groups bring to the table. In our ignorance, we will be drawn towards the impulse to dismiss that we don’t understand as unworthy.

Philosophy isn’t particularly fashionable at the moment, it’s true, but then neither is thinking in general. I’m not sure that’s something we should be altogether proud of.