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  • 25.6.2006

    What sort of philosophy should one read?

    When people learn that I have studied philosophy, they sometimes ask whether I would recommend any particular book that gives a good introduction to modern philosophy without getting too technical. Most times this happens I suggest Robert Nozick's The Examined Life. There is a bunch of reasons for that. I'd like to explain some.

    In calling a philosophical text 'technical' I mean not only that it may make heavy use of a specialized terminology, or jargon; it is a well-known fact that contemporary philosophy has a strong tendency to present its arguments as reflections about logic, language and scientific achievements. It is easy to get the impression that most of these reflections are about something that doesn't matter much to most of us. Surely the important things in our lives are not exclusively to be found in that rule- and number-governed world? Any good account of the important issues that philosophy is about must cover the whole of reality, must address topics like the fundamental structure of the world around us (the physical world of objects in space and time as well as the social world which we are part of as human beings), what guide we can have in leading a (morally) good life, how truth or beauty relate to us. It seems unlikely that all this can be found in the details of logical analysis, or in the laws discovered by physics and other sciences.

    On the other hand, it is evident that no serious answer to the questions that matter to us can be simply formulated in the language and the style of thinking employed two-hundred years ago (in some countries, books are still published every year which read as if the authors were unaware of the fact that nobody any longer talks in the obscure, incomprehensible jargon of, say, Hegel, or one of his contemporaries - and nobody can understand it save a handful of academic philosophers specialized in historical subjects). This would mean to be 'technical' in another, equally unfavourable way.

    Permitting our stance to be framed by very old books carries the danger that not the best minds of a period would be our guides. I am not referring to the original authors here. Aristotle, Kant or Wittgenstein certainly deserve that predicate. But our account of their views is more or less shaped by today's scholars that translate and interpret their work for us. Although this is an intellectual achievement on its own, it is still doubtful whether it is on a par with the achievements which they are about. Yet the intellectual atmosphere of our time is to a considerable degree shaped by thought that is not just related to, but dependent on some earlier work. (Even the selection of names I have mentioned some sentences ago is just part of an agreed-upon canon.)

    (Compare this with a neighbouring academic discipline, literary science. A corresponding situation here would be tantamount to having no longer any literature written and published at all, but continuing the practice of editing, interpreting and discussing the existing works which makes out the academic daily work. While this would still be worth doing, it would look to us as if something important had gone.

    Writing an essay about the particular use a poet made of a certain sort of phrase is a common exercise in literary science; similarly, it is a typical contribution of scholars in philosophy to analyze the particular use a philosopher made of a certain concept. But there is a difference here - or there should be one, anyway - because philosophy, as opposed to literary science, has no counterpart: there is no analogue in philosophy to what poets are in literary science. Restricting the field to the set of tasks that are similar to the one described, philosophy would constrain its own area substantially.)

    There is of course no question that every serious philosophy must start somewhere from a set of previously gained insights. But there is a difference between departing from such a set of insights and viewing every own contribution as an elaboration or interpretation of one or more of its members. Interpretation of existing insights may be instrumental in finding new ones; drawing contrasts may sometimes be the only way to explain them; but what matters most is still a new insight that must be able to stand on its own from a certain point on.

    Philosophy has always a reflexive component in that there can be no philosophical position that does not feature an account of its own place. This self-defining (or self-locating) element in philosophical positions may be (more or less) implicit or explicit, but it is always there (or else it would not be justified to speak of a philosophy at all). Taking it as a matter of course that philosophy consists in working out the consequences of some position crafted a long time ago means implicitly committing oneself to a definition of philosophy that makes it dependent on a doubly contingent heritage. First, every information about something past could have been lost (records can be destroyed, memories are lost, etc.). Nothing has come down to us with historical necessity. Secondly, philosophy (the particular philosophers) in the past could have taken a different course.

    There are certain philosophical outlooks that are compatible with such a commitment. In Hegel's view, for instance, there is a necessity in the development of thought, and therefore the contingency here is only apparent. But note that this is an explicit statement that also requires its defenders to underwrite Hegel's philosophy of history in general. (Which may not be desirable, and precisely so because most of its consequences are grossly incompatible with the actual course history has taken since Hegel's day. Recent attempts to modernize similar views, like Francis Fukuyama's version of the thesis of the end of history have come and already gone again.)

    Opposed to the idea (whether implicit or explicit) that the core of our philosophy is to be found in views that have actually come to us but may have not, or could have been different, are those that try to make out the fundamental motivation of philosophy in the self-standing rationality of human beings (I sometimes associate this with Stoic philosophy, because for me the prime example of this is Seneca's position). By concentrating on the use of reason for achieving a good life (or at least coming nearer to leading one), such an approach would be at least suspicious of that idea. Now, an example of a relatively recent book that exemplifies this is Nozick's The Examined Life. Although both informed by the technicalities of contemporary analytical philosophy and open to the insights of predecessors all over the history of philosophy (and not only western philosophy), the book takes very seriously the idea that it is rational self-government that makes the most important contribution to leading a fuller and better life - and this directly contradicts the idea that it is the history that leads toward us that mostly shapes who and what we are. This is stated clearly in Nozick's introductory remarks.)

    From a Stoic point of view, it is respect for the capacity of thinking (and acting) reasonable in ourselves and others that should guide a philosophical outlook. This is motivated (in the original Stoics, like Seneca) by the thought that being rational is the distinctive human nature, that which makes human beings human.

    Now, the notion of nature is not only in itself unspecific and unclear, it has been subject to such a long history of interpretation that it is almost impossible to build a position on it in the same way as Seneca did. In Nozick's account, the role of the central notion is played by 'reality' instead of 'nature'. The good life, in Nozick's mind, is marked by being more real (it is extensively discussed what that could mean), not by what is the life that is most in accord with human nature. (By this I do not mean to imply that Nozick has been motivated by an explicit consideration of the shortcomings of the notion of nature, nor do I want to attribute to him an interest in the question whether a neo-Stoic philosophy may be viable under modern conditions; whether or not there is an actual influence is not of interest to me.)

    Still, the approach taken by Nozick is explorative and particularistic when it comes to the discussion of that central notion. There is no theoretical backend for his notion of reality in the same manner as (for instance) Kant's critical philosophy provides a fundament for his ethics. More similar to the Stoics, Nozick takes understanding of the central notion as not so much to be constituted by theoretical study than by learning and mastering the requirements of living in accord with the philosophical stance created by it.

    (to be continued)


 

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