It’s quite common for people who do not understand philosophy to say that philosophy is a discipline with little to no value. It trains you for nothing, it teaches us nothing, it serves no purpose. A philosophical education provides a student with little to no vocational skills or marketable qualities. Philosophical research generates no new technologies or important scientific discoveries. By these measures, especially when contrasted with its STEM colleagues, how can anyone speak of the value of philosophy in education?
In contrast, it’s also quite common for philosophers (i.e., people who do understand philosophy) to say that philosophy is of the highest value, ranking amongst the most important things a person can do. ‘The unexamined life is not worthy of a human being’, they will say. And some of them will really mean it.
There is a clear difference between philosophers and non-philosophers here. What accounts for this difference? One obvious possibility is a self-serving bias. Philosophers defend the value of their discipline as the pious defend the truth of their religion: ultimately, without sufficient reason. The rational response to this bias would be much the same in either case: tolerance, but not esteem. The world of education has asked for evidence of philosophy’s value and none has been given. As with society’s tolerant response to religious fanatics, philosophers are free to carry on with their private worship but they shouldn’t expect non-believers to buy into it, and some thought must be given to the protection of young people. They will all need jobs, after all.
There is another way of accounting for this difference, which is that philosophers are seeing something that non-philosophers are not, which suggests that learning philosophy allows you to develop a kind of philosophical vision. In understanding philosophy, you literally see more in it, and so are able to see what is of value within it. If you do not have this understanding, you do not have the requisite vision to see anything in it at all.
Analogies are easy to draw. Imagine learning to play chess. As you learn the game, you come to see more in the game. A total novice sees only random pieces of plastic scattered on a chequered board. But as you learn, you see beyond the little plastic shapes to what the pieces represent, their role in the game, their relative value in various circumstances. You learn to see strategies, good moves and bad moves; you learn to see two moves ahead. Your level of understanding of the game determines what you are able to see in the game. A novice might look at a game between two grandmasters and claim: ‘I can’t see a winning move.’ Would it follow from this that no winning move is available? Of course not. If there were a winning move available, the novice would be in no position to see it, and so it can hardly be surprising that they cannot see such a move. That they cannot see such a move tells you very little about whether such a move is available. An experienced player might see things differently.
Or imagine speaking to a foreigner whose language you do not understand. They are trying to communicate with you with words and gestures, but you have no idea what they are talking about. It’s all gibberish to you. Does it follow from this that the foreigner is speaking nonsense? You don’t see any meaning in their words; does it follow that there is no meaning? Of course not. You don’t speak their language; how could you expect to see any meaning in their words? If there were any meaning in their words, you would not be in a position to see it, and so it can hardly be surprising if you fail to see any meaning in their words. That you cannot see any meaning in their words tells you nothing whatsoever about whether there is any meaning in their words. If anything, when speaking to a foreigner, you would assume that they are making sense and you cannot understand them because you don’t speak their language. That is, your acknowledged lack of understanding gives you a reason to believe the opposite of what you see.
The philosophy of religion has a useful discussion on this point. The claim that there is nothing of value in philosophy, when made by someone who does not understand philosophy, would be a classic ‘noseeum inference’, so called because ‘we no see ‘um, so they ain’t there!’ The non-philosopher sees nothing of value in philosophy and so infers that there is nothing of value in philosophy. But, so the argument goes, in order to draw an inference of absence from an observation of absence, you would need to be in a position of ‘reasonable epistemic access’. That is, you would need to be in a position to see the presence of such a thing if it were there. If you are in such a position, then and only then can you infer from ‘I don’t see it’ to ‘it isn’t there’.
Are those who do not understand philosophy in a position to see its value, if it had any? Note: not just ‘a’ value, but its value, the value specific to philosophy? It doesn’t appear to me that they are. This is clear by the measures that are applied.
They ask for higher earnings potential, but a philosopher would question the value of wealth in absolute terms. Socrates was wealthier than his friends, even though he had less money, because his self-restraint meant that what little he had, however little he had, was always more than sufficient for his means. His philosophy told him that the art of wealth was the art of generating a surplus, and that this can be better achieved by reducing your wants rather than increasing your possessions. Such a philosopher can be ‘wealthy’ even without a penny to their name. Aligning this ‘wealth’ with any increased earnings potential would show yourself to have misunderstood the concept.
They ask for new discoveries, but a philosopher would understand that gaining philosophical understanding is often about coming to see what you already know in a new light. A philosopher would say that in understanding more, you know less, because philosophical understanding is often about shattering a false ignorance, or discovering that you do not know as much as you thought you did. Aligning this ‘discovery’ with a scientific discovery would show yourself to have misunderstood the concept.
They ask for vocational skills or marketable qualities. Some philosophers have been inclined to defend the discipline on these terms. They say philosophy teaches people how to think clearly and critically, how to construct an argument, how to present themselves well in speech and writing. I suspect this is only done because philosophers are trying to make sense to non-philosophers. A philosopher would call these things ‘sophistry’: useful skills, perhaps, and they can certainly be put to good use, but without a sincere pursuit of truth it is not really philosophy. Aligning philosophy with these vocational skills, in such a way that the discipline becomes nothing but those skills, only shows that you do not really understand what philosophy is.
To see the value in something, you need to be in a position to understand that value. The value of philosophy is found within itself. Because philosophy’s nature is to teach you about value, you need to ‘get’ philosophy in order to get the value out of it. And once you get it, you will see that philosophy does not serve your purposes, it subjects your purposes to examination. In this, it does not give you what you want, it changes what you understand you should want.
It’s this that prevents philosophy from requiring, like religion, a leap of faith. No one thing is more critical of philosophy than philosophy is of itself. It goes round and round subjecting itself to rational scrutiny, always coming up a little short. It is a process of discovery, constantly critical, constantly reflective. The more you learn of philosophy, the less you know. People can say the same of religion but they would be lying, to themselves and others. Philosophy has no mysteries; it is an open book. Nothing is hidden. Philosophy requires no rites or rituals. All you need to do is ask the right questions and follow the conversation where it leads, and you too will realise with Socrates that the unexamined life is not worthy of a human being.
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