Philosophy and Philosophizing

CHAPTER FOUR


Philosophy and Philosophizing


This sense of wonder is the mark of the philosopher. Philosophy indeed has no other origin.


—Plato (2003)


Before beginning an exploration of the various issues that arise in the philosophical study of science, it is necessary to understand what philosophy itself is and what exactly it is that philosophers do. Absent this basic understanding, the rest that follows would lack clear context and students would likely become confused as to what the point of it all is. Looking at this quote from Plato, one thing about philosophy that seems clear is that philosophers wonder. There may be no more fundamental claim about what philosophy is and what philosophers do. However, “wondering” is a very broad term referring to a cognitive activity that can be performed in a variety of different manners and toward a variety of ends. Wondering in the philosophical sense either is in itself or leads to thought that is more structured than is typically associated with that word. Therefore, understanding the structure that underlies philosophical wondering and the aims to which it is put is needed before we can move forward with clarity.




 PHILOSOPHY AND ITS MISCONCEPTIONS




Students often come to a first (or sometimes even second or third) philosophy class with grave misconceptions about philosophy. These misconceptions are largely engendered and fueled by misunderstandings of philosophy active in our culture and ambiguities of the word philosophy leading to confusions of the colloquial uses of the term with the more academic concept and tradition. First, in a society that powerfully values the practical, any academic field is commonly looked upon with suspicion. With philosophy arguably the most “academic” of academic fields, this suspicion is often especially strong. This suspicion, of course, depends on a strong distinction between theory and practice: that there is a clear and apparent line between studies and disciplines that have direct practical values and those which are impractical, ivory-tower musings available only to an uneducated elite whose practical needs are met and thus can afford the time and luxury of the theoretical. Yet, such a distinction is often far from clear. Any practice, including those most necessary for daily life, includes underlying theoretical issues. Understanding of such an underlying theory can have a profound effect on the direction and purpose of the practice in question, as well as social and moral justifications. The line between theory and practice may be far more blurry than commonly supposed.


A little history of philosophy may also demonstrate the indistinctness of this line between theory and practice. Western philosophy is commonly understood to have begun about 2,500 years ago with the first Western philosopher Thales (ca. 585 BCE) who lived in Miletus—the area that is now Turkey. In these early days of philosophy, the concept, if not always the word (actually coined somewhat later in Greece), included not just what philosophers today would consider philosophy but any advanced studies: physics, biology, psychology, mathematics, history, art criticism, political science, and so forth. As these various fields developed distinct bodies of knowledge and distinct methodologies, they separated from philosophy to become independent disciplines. In fact, up until the 18th century, the science of physics was known as natural philosophy. Until the theories of Darwin, the science of biology was oriented around the insights and theories of Greek philosopher Aristotle. Psychology did not completely separate from philosophy until the mid to late 19th century. These acts of separation left philosophy the most profound, most difficult (possibly unanswerable) questions. Thus, nonphilosophers often hold a second misconception that philosophy, unlike science or even other humanities fields, is composed of nothing more than opinion, that there are no standards for knowledge claims in philosophy. This view is also fed by the ambiguity according to which many people use philosophy as a synonym for policy, principle, or belief, which leads to further common misconceptions. For example, a store might promote its business saying, “Our philosophy is that the customer comes first.” This of course is a policy and not a use of the word philosophy consistent with the traditional academic meaning. Or consider this statement from a book on holistic health: “A holistic philosophy takes a systems perspective in emphasizing that the ‘lifestyle choices’ a person makes must be understood in the context of his or her genetic propensities, personality, relationships, and the environment” (Robison & Carrier, 2004, p. 72). Here, “philosophy” refers to a belief system or worldview; as such, its use is not in the academic sense of “philosophy.” Holistic philosophy, as it is defined here, could be the result of philosophical study or an element of a larger philosophical inquiry, but it does not refer to the academic sense of “philosophy” itself. The use of the word philosophy as a policy, belief, or even belief system does not imply questions of knowledge claims and critical engagement with those beliefs, which are central to the academic meaning.


Although philosophy deals with the most profound, most difficult, possibly unanswerable questions, this does not mean that there are no answers, no objective criteria for knowledge claims, no right or wrong, as many nonphilosophers mistakenly believe. Traditionally, philosophy has committed itself to standards of logic and rationality. Beginning with Thales, developing with the elenchus of Socrates, the arguments of Plato, and the multidisciplinary study of Aristotle and beyond, any claim posited in a philosophical context must be supported by reasons that others can evaluate and engage with. Philosophy thus developed the study of logic and argumentation employed now in all other academic studies and practices, including most notably science and law. Therefore, it is not the case that just any claim or theory is philosophically meaningful. A philosophical claim must address a philosophical issue in an insightful manner and it must be rationally supported. Of these two criteria, the former needs some development and clarification. That is the focus of the next section. Before that, however, a caveat regarding the latter criterion is necessary. Although traditionally some form of rational support has been an integral part of philosophical study, even that most essential element of philosophy has come under critical review in recent postmodern philosophy. The very meaning of rationality and its applicability to philosophical study has been questioned by some recent philosophers. Such issues are raised in later chapters, especially Chapter 14.




 PHILOSOPHIZING AND PHILOSOPHICAL ISSUES: LESSONS FROM THE EUTHYPHRO





The safest general characterization of the European philosophical tradition is that it consists of a series of footnotes to Plato. (Whitehead, 1978, p. 39)


Let us begin at a philosophically uncontroversial place: Plato. As difficult as philosophy is to define, no one doubts that Plato was a philosopher and that the work he did was not only philosophy but profound and fundamental work that influenced philosophers for centuries, even millennia, after his death. Specifically, I want to start with Plato’s dialogue known as The Euthyphro. A dialogue is a form of writing that is similar to a small play: A number of characters discuss a question in a give-and-take manner. This writing form was not uncommon in Plato’s day but is rarely seen today, being largely replaced by the dry essay or treatise. The dialogues of Plato usually star his mentor Socrates, who never wrote anything of his own, in discussions with philosophers, sophists, politicians, soldiers, and others. In most of these, Socrates turns out looking good and wise, whereas his interlocutors often (but not always) look foolish.


This particular dialogue begins with Socrates on his way to court to face the charges of impiety and corrupting the youth that will lead to his eventual execution. On his way, he meets his friend Euthyphro, also on his way to court but to charge his own father with murder. Socrates questions whether it is appropriate for a son to charge his father with a crime. Euthyphro asserts quite confidently that he is in the right. He bases this confidence on his self-expressed status as an expert on morality and piety. On hearing of this expertise, Socrates suggests that Euthyphro’s knowledge and learning could help him in defending his own case and engages Euthyphro in a discussion of the very meaning of piety. At this early point, a well-known quality of Socrates is already apparent: irony. It is subtly apparent that Socrates does not accept Euthyphro’s expertise at face value—indeed, he likely doubts Euthyphro’s expertise. Yet, he flatters Euthyphro and entreats him for help. This rhetorical strategy has come to be known as Socratic irony. Socrates used it to draw people out, to get them talking in order to further discussion. And whether Euthyphro is indeed an expert should come out through an in-depth discussion of the concept of piety, not simply through his bold assertions.


CONCEPTS


Already we can see an essential aspect of philosophy and philosophical study. A philosophical issue involves concepts (or ideas) of a general and fundamental nature. The concept here of course is piety. Other fundamental concepts open to philosophical investigation include space, time, knowledge, love, and of course science, among countless others. These are concepts we encounter on a daily basis but typically do not give much thought. “There is a sense,” writes American philosopher Joseph Margolis (1924–), “in which philosophical questions are both remote and familiar” (Margolis, 1968, p. 3). They are familiar in that they often involve concepts we encounter every day. And regarding concepts such as these, everyone holds some, usually unquestioned, beliefs and assumptions. Given the inquisitive nature of the human mind, each person at some point in his or her life will question at least some of the concepts. When philosophers pursue such questioning, the questions and the concepts themselves can seem to be remote. A critical stance toward fundamental beliefs and assumptions can alienate these usually familiar concepts from us. What was once familiar and certain becomes alien and uncertain.


A concept (idea) is contained within the human mind. But its existence must transcend any individual mind. First, as we can collectively and coherently discuss and refer to concepts such as space, time, moral correctness, and so forth, such concepts must, in some manner, exist in minds in general. Second, the source of these concepts, given the collective ownership of them, must come from beyond the individual mind, whether that is the nature or structure of the human mind itself, the natural world, or culture and society. When we philosophically study a concept like time, we are first investigating a concept contained in our heads. But this is also a concept existent at a social level. That is, we have common, social understandings of what such concepts mean. We can investigate the understanding in our own mind but also expand that investigation to how we understand the concept socially. Beyond this, there is the question of whether this concept accurately reflects or represents some independent reality, and if it does, whether our investigation can bring our concept to a more accurate representation of this independent reality.


Philosophical investigation of these concepts often focuses on what exactly they mean. Although we all seem to have general concepts such as space, time, and so forth, in our minds, we typically have difficulty in providing a coherent definition to such concepts—particularly, a definition that will meet general assent. Plato’s dialogue The Euthyphro is an enlightening text on the philosophical method itself. In this dialogue, Socrates discusses the meaning of “piety” with his friend Euthyphro. Although Euthyphro fancies himself an expert on piety, he seems incapable of providing a clear and coherent definition. Each definition he posits ends up facing some logical problems.


To get to the heart of the issue, to have a fundamental starting point, Socrates asks Euthyphro for a definition of piety. Euthyphro’s first answer is that what he is presently doing, prosecuting his father for murder, is piety. Socrates gently demurs, explaining this response does not answer his question. Euthyphro’s answer supplies merely an example. What Socrates is requesting is a statement on the essence of the concept: What qualities are essential to the concept of piety, and what distinguishes some acts, like prosecuting one’s father, as pious from other (impious) acts? At the same time, philosophers do sometimes utilize examples to strategically investigate a difficult concept. A mere example as Euthyphro proposes is of limited value, but what are known as paradigm examples and borderline examples can be more useful (see Woodhouse, 2006, pp. 58–59). Paradigm examples are proposed instances (or examples) of the thing in question that are intended to illustrate the essence of the concept. Paradigm examples may at times be controversial, but generally they appeal to largely accepted intuitions about the concept in question and what counts as a member of that class. Having a paradigmatic example of the concept in question provides for something more concrete to investigate than an admittedly fuzzy concept. By investigating the paradigm example, its main characteristics can be used to comprise a general definition that would be helpful in understanding what are and are not other instances of that concept. For example, in investigating the meaning of “science” many philosophers might use physics as a paradigm example. The characteristics of physics would then be analyzed and formed into a proposed definition to test other possible sciences against. One problem with paradigm examples though is that they may play upon preconceptions and prejudices and thus limit investigation and lead to a form of academic conservatism. Some critics of using physics as a paradigm example of science may claim that it plays upon prejudices of certain philosophers of science (especially logical positivists) and unfairly exclude, or at least make questionable, many forms of social science.


Borderline examples, rather than putting forth an instance largely accepted as indicative of the concept in question, test the limits of that concept. Uses of borderline examples usually presuppose that we have a basic understanding of the concept but need to determine how far it may extend. Borderline examples may have some of the qualities we normally attribute to the concept in question, but may lack some important qualities or include some that we do not normally associate with the concept. Freudianism may be an interesting borderline example of science. Freudianism seems to conform to our ideas of science as investigating our world of experience—our inner world of experience. Yet, many scientists and philosophers of science find it not empirical enough to fully and unambiguously qualify as a science. By analyzing this example, “certain limits of applicability of [‘science’] will be clarified, and the meaning of that concept will be understood to extend to those limits” (Woodhouse, 2006, p. 59).


Euthyphro’s second response is more (formally) satisfactory. Rather than providing a mere example, his second response attempts to identify the essential elements of piety. Euthyphro asserts that piety is what the gods love. This response better satisfies Socrates’ formal request for a definition. It posits a possible essential quality that may distinguish the pious from the impious. But whether it is satisfactory as a definition of piety must await critical analysis. Socrates notes that within the Greek pantheon of gods there are many disputes and squabbles, disagreements over right and wrong. Thus, there would be disagreement among the gods about what they each love, meaning that some might love one thing while others hate that thing. Under Euthyphro’s most recent definition, any act or thing that is loved by some gods and hated by others, would be both pious and impious—which is not a logically tenable conclusion, revealing the definition as self-contradictory and thus incoherent. This form of argumentation has come to be called reductio ad absurdum (reduction to absurdity). In this form of argumentation, one takes a claim or argument of another person and demonstrates that it logically leads to an absurdity like a contradiction. As contradictions cannot be rationally maintained, there must be something wrong with the original claim or argument. In this case, the logical consequence of self-contradicting judgments of piety indicates that something must be wrong with Euthyphro’s definition.


Euthyphro then proposes a second definition, a revision of his first that attempts to take account of Socrates’ critical analysis: piety is what all the gods love. This qualification of “all” would prevent the logical problem of the first definition. But that of course does not mean that this definition does not have problems of its own. As part of his investigation into this definition, Socrates asks Euthyphro whether what is pious is pious because the gods love it or the gods love it because it is pious. Euthyphro answers the latter. If it were the former, the attribution of piety would depend on no more than the gods’ fancy. Euthyphro seems to intuitively recognize this and find it an unacceptable foundation for piety. However, the latter option implies that piety depends on a quality or qualities independent of the gods’ love. Thus, although it may be true that the gods love what is pious, love would not be the essential, defining quality of the pious.


LOGICAL CONNECTIONS


This part of the dialogue illustrates other important aspects of philosophizing. First, beyond the meaning of concepts, philosophical investigation also includes analysis of logical connections among concepts and the beliefs and claims related to them. Generally speaking, two claims (statements, propositions, or assertions) can be logically connected in a number of ways.



       1.  Logical implication. To say that one claim logically implies another means that the truth of one guarantees the truth of the other. For example, the claim that the gods love what is pious because it is pious, not the other way around, implies that the essence of piety is a quality independent of the gods’ love.


       2.  Logical incompatibility. A second logical connection is that of logical incompatibility. Two claims are logically incompatible if they cannot both be true. For example, let us assume Euthyphro’s definition that piety is what the gods love. And let us suppose that Zeus loves when people sacrifice goats, but Hera hates this practice. This would mean that goat sacrifice is pious and also that goat sacrifice is impious. The two claims contained in the previous sentence are logically incompatible. It cannot be true that goat sacrifice is both pious and impious.


       3.  Logical contingency. Additionally, claims that have no logical connection among them are “contingently related,” meaning that the truth (or falsity) of each is completely independent of the truth (or falsity) of the other. For example, the claims “A square is a polygon” and “The moon is made of green cheese” are contingent. The truth or falsity of one is wholly independent of the truth or falsity of the other.

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Jul 6, 2017 | Posted by in NURSING | Comments Off on Philosophy and Philosophizing

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