Topics Philosophy

Question When I think about certain philosophical issues I sometimes get very overwhelmed and feel I'm in the grip of a serious problem. For example, arguments skeptical about the external world, or other minds, or free will really cause anxiety. I believe, in these cases, that there is an external world, that there are minds other than my own, and that free will is a necessary, emergent component of phenomenological consciousness. Yet, when I hear arguments to the contrary I worry that perhaps I'm wrong, and I worry about the consequences. In general, it seems that most academic philosophers live their lives like ordinary people, and that they believe in things like free will, and they don't doubt that their children have minds, for example. What they do is try to arrive at conceptual refinements through arguments against intuitions, and explore the limits of human knowledge. But they still tackle with these metaphysical and epistemological problems, and, for me, they can at times provoke great angst. So, aside from sheer arrogance about one's one views, how does one in the philosophy department--and especially an undergrad without the great background knowledge of counter-arguments that professors have--learn to be confident in their own views, and avoid letting anxiety run amok?

Accepted:
December 24, 2010

Comments

Thank you for this inquiry! Some philosphers have been quite frank about the ways in which their philosophy can rupture their contentment or be a source of anxiety and some philosophers have even explicitly used their anxiety as a source for philosophical work (e.g. Kierkegaard in his book The Concept of Anxiety, sometimes translated as The Concept of Dread, 1844). On a different front, David Hume famously observed how he had to seek relief from some of his skeptical worries by playing games (backgammon) in social settings.

I think you are right to observe that anxiety can indeed run amok; it can either immobilize one or have one running in opposite directions (one hour accepting one theory, then embracing an alternative, then...). Some philosophers (including Linda Zagzebski and Keith Lehrer) have recently contended that a key virtue in philosophy (and perhaps in thinking, in general) is self-trust. Without trusting our own faculties and judgments (cognitive powers), we are lost. Maybe in practical terms, Descartes offers a clue as to how to do philosophy in his Meditations, cultivating self-trust in a stable environment. Descartes begins by deciding that no matter what his philosophical inquiry suggests, he is going to live in conformity with the customs of his place and day. And then when he egages in philosophy entertaining the most unsettling of possibilities he still works in his practical life from a base line trust in his surroundings and community as well as self-trust in his inquiry. But whether Descartes should be a guide here or not, I personally suggest that a reasonable antedote to anxiety is to do philosophy slowly, not rushing to accept this or that position. Giving yourself time and finding kindred thinkers who are also patient can be a saving grace when you are feeling overwhelmed.

Stepping back a bit from your questions, it is interesting to note that there is a strong philosophical teaching or tradition that philosophy as a practice is consoling rather than a source of anxiety. Perhaps the most famous articulation of such a view of philosophy is in Boethius's masterpiece The Consolation of Philosophy --though one can also find great represenatives of this tradition in the ancient stoics or, much later, in Thomas More's A Dialogue of Comfort against Tribulation (1534). To describe philosophy as "comforting" may sound pretty unexciting, but the word comes the Latin "confortare" which did NOT originally refer to something like a quilted bed coverlet to keep us warm at night; it meant "to strengthen." I hope that you find the patient practice of philosophy as something that can and will build up and strengthen your self-trust and keep anxiety at bay.