I suggested to a friend that atheists and theists were rather similar, in that they take a position on god's existence ahead of time and argue it dogmatically, whereas philosophers are willing to evaluate the arguments and to tentatively adopt the one that they prefer for whatever reason. It's not to say that philosophers can't have a deep faith in a god or a lack thereof, but they don't see their work as defending that belief in the face of any possible objection. But if this is true, and I think it is, how about someone who refuses to budge from what seem like moral truisms? Must a philosopher, in order to maintain integrity, put every principle on the chopping block: that if it's wrong for you to do something, all else equal, it's wrong for me to do it, or that causing people pain is wrong? Must a philosopher at least be open to the possibility that these notions are fundamentally flawed?

I posted a reply simultaneously with David's excellent one: it is perhaps just about worth leaving these two remarks here. (1) An atheist certainly need not "take a position on god's existence ahead of time and argue it dogmatically". Someone can reject theism because they come to think that we have no good reason to accept the theistic hypothesis, and very good reasons to reject it. In fact, that is a common enough intellectual trajectory for people brought up in some religion: their eventual atheism is (at least by their lights) the result of weighing up the arguments, pro and con. Such an atheist might be misguided in her assessment of the weight of the arguments, but is hardly being dogmatic. (Nor indeed need every theist count as dogmatic, either.) (2) "Must a philosopher, in order to maintain integrity, put every principle on the chopping block?" Well, certainly we should stand willing to revise cherished views, if that's where the preponderance of evidence and argument takes us....

Are there page to page commentaries on difficult philosophical works that explain more simply what's being said so that the average person at least has a fighting chance of knowing what the work says. Where does a person obtain those sorts of commentaries?

Indeed, there are all kinds of commentaries written on the works of the Great Dead Philosophers, at various levels of sophistication. But it isn't clear to me why "the average person" would particularly want to read the works of the Great Dead Philosophers -- unless gripped by the idea that those works are somehow full of timeless pearls of wisdom. But that's not a happy idea. Those old works are, of course, very much creatures of their times, responding to intellectual concerns of their times (concerns which might overlap with ours, but which are also very different in subtle and complex ways), and typically bringing to bear all kinds of hidden assumptions of their times. That's why the Great Dead Philosophers can often be so baffling: they can seem to talking about issues that we half-recognize, but often in ways that initially make little sense. And that's why we need the commentaries, to help us see where our predecessors were coming from. (Think for example just how much philosophy over the...

Hi, I just started grad school in philosophy, and I've found that nothing I've done in undergrad has truly prepared me for this; specifically, I had a lot of guidance when writing my papers. I was given specific questions that helped me to give the Prof. what he wanted. My philosophy 101 class was taught by a grad student (in the midst of defending his own dissertation) who gave us more material than we could reasonably digest while in our early 20s. When left largely to my own devices, I focused more on the application of the philosophy in politics rather than the semantics, and for the most part, I did well and was happy about it. Now I'm trying to write a paper with the instructions that I discuss the concept of being for 25 pages from Plato's Sophist. I'm not allowed to use outside sources or reference outside of the context of the text or the class. Everyone else in my program seems to know what they're doing. I've talked to my professor and some of my peers at some length (though I was too...

It is rather difficult to believe that you have correctly describe your assigned task -- is it really to write at length about the notion of being in the Sophist without consulting any commentaries or interpretative essays? Well, not to beat about the bush, that project strikes me as simply ludicrous . You need all the help you can get if you are to work your way into a text some two and half thousand years old (in fact, I take it you are relying on a translation which has already made some interpretative moves that themselves raise issues): it is just absurd to pretend otherwise. Unless, I suppose, the point is to reveal to you the impossibility of the enterprise and make you appreciate that relative beginners need the commentators and the philosophical interpreters -- but then that is a pretty dumb way of getting you to see what is already an obvious truth.

How good does one need to be in mathematics to do good work in philosophy of mathematics? Does one need to be able to *do* original math research, or just read and understand math research, or neither? Or does the answer depend on the topic within philosophy of math? If so, which topics are those in which math knowledge is most useful, and in which is it least useful?

You certainly don't need to be able to do original research in maths to be able to work on the philosophy of maths. But you will need to be able to follow whatever maths is particularly relevant to your philosophical interests. How much maths that is, which topics at which levels, will depend on your philosophical projects. For example, compare and contrast the following questions (not exactly a random sample -- they all happen to interest me!): "Is our basic arithmetical knowledge in any sense grounded in intuition?" Evidently, you don't need any special mathematical knowledge to tackle that . "Can a fictionalist about mathematics explain its applicability?" Again, I guess that acquaintance with the sort of high school mathematics that indeed gets applied is probably all you really need to know to discuss this too. "Just what infinitary assumptions are we committed to if we accept applicable mathematics as true?" Here you do need to get more into the maths, and know quite a lot about...

Suppose someone in some remote corner of town is endowed with the gift of sublime philosophical wisdom and insight. When presented with centuries-old paradoxes s/he can simply see the correct answer. Think of him/her as the Susan Boyle of philosophy. Has Philosophy become so institutionalized that this person would have little to no chance of having his/her response heard in a respectable venue? What are the chances that this person might get the attention s/he deserved?

I'm not quite sure what is meant by "sublime insight"! But anyway, serious philosophy involves negotiating your way around thickets of argument . Philosophical originality is a matter of finding new moves to make (or breathing new live into old moves) in argued debates that have usually been developing and deepening for many years, in some cases for thousands(!) of years. Generations of philosophers have explored the options on (as it might be) the liar paradox, or the free-will problem, or the nature of consciousness, with ever-more sophistication, piling distinction upon distinction, argument upon argument. And yes, of course, lots of progress is made -- refining the options, working out their costs and benefits, and often engaging with the relevant science (or work in logic, etc.) as that develops. Now, it is hard enough for graduate students who've devoted five, six, or more years studying philosophy to start making much progress -- they have to get to grips with so much first, in order...

I'm a college student, hoping to enter a PhD program and specialize in philosophy of mind and language. I'm deciding if I should spend my electives on mathematics. My experience with math tells me that it furnishes the mind with superior logic, clarity of thought, and a solid scaffolding that helps me reach higher ideas. Often I find myself framing my philosophical ideas, lessons, and questions in ways that mathematics has taught me, not philosophy (although I think this owes to my longer experience with math). So I've been wondering, how much mathematics should an aspiring philosopher study, especially if he or she would like to delve into one of the more analytic sub-fields? I'm good at math, and I do not mind taking a number of advanced math courses, but frankly, I'd rather spend the extra course slots on subjects I prefer, like more philosophy or a foreign language.

I'd say: if you've done a maths course or two already, then you should have learnt some lessons about arguing rigorously and giving absolutely clear gap-free proofs. Doing further courses won't teach you any more about that. So if you are not going to specialize in the philosophy of mathematics, a little maths in addition to some logic is already enough. If you want to work eventually in the philosophy of mind and language, then much better to do some courses on scientific psychology, neuro-biology, and linguistics.

A long time ago - Jan 2006 if I'm not mistaken - Alan Soble wrote (http://www.askphilosophers.org/question/875): "Finally, the heart and soul of philosophy is argument, providing reasons for claims, including claims about morality and duties. In the answer to the question above, I cannot find a shred of argument. We should also avoid, that is, pastoral or friendly counseling. Without rigor, philosophy is nothing." That was back in the days when there was routinely more than 1 response to a question. Today's responses seem more and more to be becoming "pastoral or friendly counseling" without rigor. The panelists do not argue with each other - the responses are just accepted. Here's an example: Peter Smith wrote very recently (http://www.askphilosophers.org/question/2823): "For irrationally formed beliefs are not likely to lead to actions which get any of us what we want -- including a decent life, lived well in the knowledge of our all-too-explicable mortality." This statement - simply put out...

Jennifer Church points out a couple of types of a case where irrationally formed beliefs (or degrees of belief, in the over-confidence case) can promote our welfare. Sure there are such cases. But that doesn't affect the original point at stake. There being a few cases doesn't undermine the point that in general false beliefs (because of their content!) are unlikely to lead to successful action,* and so irrationally formed beliefs -- being likely to be false -- are not in general likely to lead to actions which get us what we want. And that is enough to explain why we should in general care a lot about forming our beliefs in a rational way. Which in turnis enough to counter the original questioner's worry that philosophy"uses as its main tool a mechanism [rational thought] that is theopposite of what is most important to us": in general ,rational belief-formation matters for getting whatever is important tous. *Indeed, some attractive views about ascribing content to belief...

I am perplexed by Alexander George's recent posting (http://www.askphilosophers.org/question/2854). He says "Your observation that we sometimes take pleasure in beliefs even if they have been irrationally arrived at seems correct but beside the point: it speaks neither to the truth of (1) nor to that of (2)." (2), in this case, is "(2) that actions guided by false beliefs are not likely to get us what we want. " I believe the science of psychology has shown us that we form many beliefs entirely irrationally. The mechanism for their formation is often a defense mechanism. The purpose of their formation is often to hide some truth about ourselves from ourselves - to hide some unpleasant information that we would have gleaned had we formed our belief rationally. I just can't see how the above information is "beside the point". The point is: 1) I want to be happy. 2) My beliefs are formed irrationally in order to reach that desired end. Perhaps what is beside the point is that the belief-forming...

Just a footnote to Mark Collier's helpful post. I actually said that irrationally formed beliefs are not likely to lead to actions which get us what we want (rather than cannot get us what we want). And that claim is enough to explain why we should in general care a lot about forming our beliefs in a rational way . Which in turn is enough to counter the original questioner's worry that philosophy "uses as its main tool a mechanism [rational thought] that is the opposite of what is most important to us": in general , rational belief-formation matters for getting whatever is important to us. Even if pockets of irrationality, episodes of self-deception, etc. can -- by good fortune -- happen to promote our welfare.

My impression about philosophers, at least from reading this site, is that they all seem cheery. Is this not the case? Questions come in and the respondents seem positively to delight in the cleverness of their responses. Fine distinctions are drawn, the question is rephrased and then rephrased again - and all of this seems to be done with the utmost optimism. It is as if the philosophers, in receiving a question, have been given a play-thing, like silly putty, that they can mold indefinitely, or like a kaleidoscope through which they can view the thing from different angles and with different colors. Often the questions seem to me of the utmost seriousness, but a serious response doesn't seem fashionable. Is it unprofessional? It is a fact that we die; what's more, this fact - one which has an enormous, even decisive impact - on how most of us conduct our lives - is entirely irrational. We cannot deduce any necessity for it from the axioms of mathematics, say. This fact disturbs us in our...

"Often the questions seem to me of the utmost seriousness, but a serious response doesn't seem fashionable." The implication seems to be that serious answers aren't much in evidence here. Which is an extraordinary thing to say. For there is a really remarkable amount of good, patient, serious, philosophy here in the answers from my co-panellists. To be sure, their answers are often enviably zippy, witty, done with a light touch, with memorable examples. But seriousness in philosophy isn't at all the same as solemnity. As to the question: facts aren't the sort of thing that are rational or irrational. It's beliefs, belief-forming policies, methods of argument, desires shaped by our beliefs, the actions they lead to, and the like (and the people who have beliefs, belief-forming policies, etc.) which are rational or irrational. But the facts are the facts, and that's that. Some facts are really difficult to get our heads around intellectually (like the facts of quantum mechanics). Some facts,...

What sort of logical arguments might be used to support metaphysical naturalism? Is it simply an assumption based on the lack of evidence for the supernatural? Also, do the majority of philosophers today advocate this view? Thanks for your answers.

There's no settled usage for the term "naturalism" in philosophy. But I guess that most of those who think of themselves as naturalists would say that we should recognize the sciences as the best way of finding out about the world and "refuse to recognize the authority of the philosopher who claims to know the truth from intuition, from insight into a world of ideas or into the nature of reason or the principles of being, or from whatever super-empirical source. There is no separate entrance to truth for philosophers."* On this view, philosophy's questions may be more sweeping than those of the special sciences or concern the relationships between different special sciences (and perhaps other forms of enquiry), but the methods of good philosophy are continuous with those of science. Now, that's still not very specific, but you can already see that naturalism understood this way involves something a lot more than just unfriendliness towards the supernatural. You could cheerfully endorse the...

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