Yes — Let’s Call Philosophy What It Really Is

If you are not a “professional” philosopher and you read this article, you were likely convinced this change is reasonable and long overdue. Don’t feel bad. The authors, knowingly or not, begin by committing the logical fallacy known as “poisoning the well.” They write, “Many philosophers and many departments simply ignore arguments for greater diversity; others respond with arguments for Eurocentrism that we and many others have refuted elsewhere.” The well is thus poisoned: whatever counter-argument I might try to make, you are told, has been refuted—not just argued against, but refuted—somewhere else, though you know not where.

So, let me begin my counter-proposal by saying that I have the utmost respect for all wisdom traditions. I do not believe, nor do many professional philosophers believe, that philosophy has a monopoly on wisdom. In The Republic, Plato hypothesizes that there is an ancient quarrel between poets and philosophers. This quarrel essentially concerns wisdom. Both parties have their own methods, their own approaches, their own received doctrines. The problem Plato finds with the poets, and the reason for their exile from his ideal city, is not that they are unwise. It is rather that they have their own form of wisdom, which is irreconcilable with that of the philosophers. Similarly, there are countless traditions from around the world, China, India, Africa, the Near East, and elsewhere, both religious and secular, which contain much profound wisdom to offer. I do not claim that Western philosophy is more important, more correct, or more mature than any of these traditions. It is perhaps more “logical,” but logic is a Western value by which we cannot properly judge other traditions. F.H. Bradley was more “logical” than Confucius, but certainly not more profound. No, it is only the worst sort of barbarism to believe that philosophy is privileged.

Nonetheless, non-Western wisdom traditions are not philosophy. Why not? The authors of the article in question have failed to define several of their terms, one of which is “philosophy” itself. We may approach language from either of two standpoints: the philological or the ideological. The philologist attempts to trace the meaning and usage of words from their inception through their development. The ideologue attempts to instill new meanings upon old words, based on his or her own particular agenda. The authors understand “philosophy” ideologically rather than philologically.

Using “philosophy” as a verb, it is an action that was originally performed by a handful of Ancient Greek individuals. Pythagoras was the first person to use the term “philosopher” to describe himself. When pressed by King Leon of Phlius, Pythagoras explained that philosophy is the disinterested love of the spectacle of the world. In the Phaedo, which is narrated to a group of Pythagoreans, Socrates redefines philosophy as learning to die, which, of course, entails learning to live rightly. These definitions set a very loose program for future philosophy, so there is a temptation to absorb all serious thinking about the nature of things and about ethical matters under the umbrella of philosophy, but to do so would be to err. Poets, religious scholars, and scientists (physical and social) do the same. Even the shoemaker must occasionally consider what the world is like and what one ought to do.

Philosophy cannot be defined by any one method or subject matter. This explains the common usage of the term; we say that anyone with a coherent opinion on any topic has a “philosophy.” Hiring committees ask potential employees what their “philosophy” is with regard to selling cars or pizza. We must suspend thinking of philosophy in this vulgar way. Instead, think about philosophy as a tradition, and an individual belongs to that tradition insofar as he or she actively engages with it. Certain questions interested our Greek forebears, and they set out to investigate them in particular ways. Those who followed them, however much they disagreed and however much the problems they confronted varied, were part of this tradition because they were engaged in dialogue with their predecessors. This continues through to our day. However different philosophy looks right now from what it looked like in the time of Pythagoras—and it is wildly different, the problems it confronts having very little to do with those of Ancient Samos—philosophers must still engage in the great conversation of letters, which extends through time from deepest past, in order to be at all comprehensible to one another.

In this sense, philosophy is one wisdom tradition amongst others. Every such tradition has its own origins in a few early thinkers, sometimes in one alone. Its practitioners must engage in the dialogues and dilemmas opened up by the natural progression and evolution of their discipline. However, these traditions are certainly not reducible one to another. They each have their own rules. These rules are, of course, in constant flux, but this flux is informed by the entire weight of the past. What Profs. Garfield and Van Norden are proposing is not offensive because Europeans and Americans have any sort of privileged hold on truth that must not be sullied with inclusivity. It is offensive for the opposite reason: because it would be an enormous overreach on the part of philosophers to subsume all other wisdom.

Philosophy departments need not be renamed in the manner they propose because philosophy is a Western tradition. If the proposal were to develop departments called “Wisdom Traditions,” within which philosophy is one possible focus, there would be no problem with this (though it seems unlikely to ever happen). Such a change, bringing these traditions closer together, would be of great benefit to all concerned. The philosopher can always learn something from the Taoist, as the Taoist can always learn something from the philosopher (and both can learn something from the physicist and psychologist and fine artist). But it is a mistake to think that the two are reducible, one to the other. They are different symbolic forms.

Let’s add a further consideration. The second word the authors fail to define is “Western.” What they consider Western and non-Western is unclear. It seems that they take Avicenna and Frantz Fanon (amongst other questionable examples) to be “non-Western” philosophers. The criterion for distinction seems to be only this: was the person born in Europe or America, or elsewhere? Does this make the African-born St. Augustine a “non-Western” writer? On my interpretation of philosophy as engagement in a historical tradition, both men certainly count as philosophers, without question. Avicenna’s Healing is one of the deepest engagements with Aristotle ever written. Fanon’s thinking was heavily indebted to Marx, Freud, Hegel, and other Europeans. They happen to have been born outside of Europe, but they nonetheless belong to the tradition. If writers like these two are not being taught in academic departments today, all the worse for philosophy. One may be born or educated anywhere in the world and choose to practice philosophy by entering into its dialogue. Likewise, one may be born in Nebraska and choose to become a scholar of the Bhagavad-Gita.

Only a fool says that non-philosophical wisdom traditions should not be taught in all colleges that have the resources to do so. The question remains, in what departments should these traditions be taught? Where can they find a home? It is a question that deserves a thoughtful answer, but let’s of this: it is absolutely not for philosophers to dictate to other traditions where they belong.

D. Kyle Peone holds a doctorate in philosophy.