Who is a Philosopher?

Oh man, Bharath, you are crazy! You say in The Experiment that you want to see what will happen if you think philosophically about life without following the habits of professional philosophers (reading the latest books by professors, going to conferences, etc.). You even say that you are curious to see if perhaps through this experiment you might gain some philosophical knowledge. That's absurd! How can you gain philosophical knowledge without doing what the philosophy experts do? Are you also going to find a cure for cancer without reading what medical experts have to say? Or build a house without knowing anything about construction? Come on! There is no need to do the experiment; we know in advance how it will turn out. You can't gain philosophical knowledge if you don't follow the latest, cutting edge advances in philosophy, which is what professional philosophy is about. This is obvious.

I feel the force of this thought. Since I left professional philosophy this argument will sometimes come to mind with an urgent energy, suggesting that perhaps I have made a big mistake; that perhaps I must be deluded or insane. What am I thinking?! It has been a year since I read any professional philosophy. How could I possibly think this can help me somehow improve my philosophical thinking?

It is interesting that I feel this worry mainly when I am by myself; if I am talking a walk and am a bit sad, or if I am at home and not sure how to spend the time. I have noticed that I almost never feel this worry when I am in public spaces, such as in the metro or the grocery store. To the contrary, I have noticed that especially when I am in the metro even the hint of the worry seems to disappear. So much so that I now love riding the metro to work. It is soothing and calming. It makes me feel connected to people, and in that connection I realize that I am not at all deluded or insane. That I am perfectly well, and that all is well.

What is it about the metro that has this effect on me? It's because it gives me a chance to really think about the above objection. And I find myself responding to it in the following way.

Look at all these people. Some might be doctors or lawyers. Some security guards or secretaries. Maybe artists or stay at home parents. Or maybe they never got a steady career. Whatever they are, surely most of them aren't philosophy professors. And what does that mean about their philosophical ability? If the philosophy professors are the experts in philosophy, and they are discovering the deepest philosophical truths of the universe, then what does that mean about these peoples' lives?

Most of these people sitting in front of me on the metro don't worry about finding medical cures because the medical researchers are responsible for that. Similarly, they don't worry about building bridges, because the engineers are responsible for that. So could these everyday people leave philosophical questions as well to the philosophy experts? So if someone asks them, "Do you have free will? Or are you determined by your upbringing?", could they just say, "Hey, why are you asking me? Let's ask the philosophy professors, and they will tell us. I haven't read all the great philosophers and the latest journal articles, so what clue could I possibly have on the topic? I get my philosophical views from the professors the same way I get my medical knowledge from the researchers. After all, they are the experts. We would be crazy to think that we--silly old us who can't even read a page of Aristotle or Kant without getting confused--can contribute anything on the issue of whether we have free will."

And perhaps they say the same thing when asked, "Is there a God?" Or "Do you think it's OK to ban gay marriage?" Or "Does human life have meaning?" Or "Is a democracy a better form of government than a dictatorship?" If they keep responding in the same way--"Hey, the philosophy professors will tell us!"--then in what way is society cultivating the art and skill of self-reflection in its citizens?

The idea that philosophy professors are the only ones who discover philosophical knowledge seems innocent enough, if one doesn't really think about it. But if one does think it through, it can be a frightening thought which seems to actually imply a kind of mindless, unreflective society.

The majority of people are not professional philosophers. If that means that they cannot contribute to the content of philosophical knowledge (as opposed to contributing by funding professional philosophers), then what responsibility can they have for thinking philosophically in their own lives? And if they don't have that responsibility, how can we have a flourishing, intellectually vigorous and free society?

The Experiment

When I was a student I wondered if it was possible to do experiments with respect to philosophical topics. It seemed so cool that scientists could formulate hypotheses, structure experiments, and work step by step towards knowledge. An experiment suggested a democratic approach to knowledge: it is not the prestige of a thinker or her charisma which dictates what is true. It is the facts themselves, which are carefully accumulated to avoid biases of any kind. I felt this is the method of finding knowledge. And as a philosophy student, I wanted to find philosophical knowledge. And yet: what kind of an experiment could one do in philosophy?

I have finally found a form of experiment which is applicable to philosophy. It is to think of one's life itself as an experiment, and to use philosophy to explore new and interesting ways of life. In this blog I will think out loud about an experiment of this form I am engaged in. The blog will be a space to process my thoughts about it. And to discuss it with anyone who wishes to engage with me about it in the comments section. No background knowledge is required in order to talk about the issues addressed in this blog. It only requires the desire to think about life and to engage in conversation.

The Question

For sixteen years I was trained in professional, academic philosophy. Four years in undergrad, nine years in graduateschool and three years as a professor. This was for me a very beneficial period in which I learnt a lot and worked with good people.

During this time I learnt the trade of professional philosophy. This involved two things:

1. I learnt the manner of thinking which is taught in philosophy classrooms: questioning basic assumptions of life, analyzing arguments, articulating one's views, drawing connections between abstract viewpoints, etc.

2. I learnt the habits of being a professional philosopher: writing journal articles meant for fellow professionals, going to conferences, grading students' essays, applying for grants, etc.

During my initiation into the profession in graduate school, there was no distinction between (1) and (2). In my twenties when I was getting a graduate education, I was learning to think philosophically by learning the habits of being a professional philosopher. Like any graduate student I tried to improve my philosophical thinking by improving my ability to do the things professional philosophers do: by improving my dissertation, trying to get better at writing grants for funding, by aiming to get published, seeking to go to conferences. It felt as if the better I did at these activities the better I would be at philosophical thinking, and so the better I would be better as a philosopher.

It never occurred to me then that perhaps (1) and (2) can come apart. That maybe I could improve my philosophical thinking without worrying about the habits of professional philosophers.

A few years ago I started to wonder: What would happen if I used my ability to think philosophically completely independently of the habits of being a professional philosopher? What if I used my ability to think philosophically not to write for professional philosophers or to teach Plato and Russell to undergraduates, but to reflect on my life without the trappings of a profession? What if I took the energy I was expending on trying to publish or keep up with the latest journal articles (like any professional philosopher, I was expending a lot of energy on this), and instead used that energy to cultivate habits for improving myself as a human being? What would happen then?

If I did that, would I gain a kind of philosophical knowledge which perhaps I wasn't gaining as a professional philosopher? Could it be that philosophical thinking free of professional habits might lead to a kind of knowledge which maybe I wasn't learning or teaching in the classroom? Is there any such non-professional philosophical knowledge to be found?

The more I thought about this question, the more exciting it seemed.