On the one hand, you’re right, but on the other hand, reading philosophy is often more like trying to follow the plot of a really boring SF novel than like learning anything. On the gripping hand, this is probably because philosophy is hard and skill at philosophy isn’t uniformly correlated with skill at writing.
this is probably because philosophy is hard and skill at philosophy isn’t uniformly correlated with skill at writing.
I would have said it is because philosophy as commonly practised is a relatively simple skill that serves primarily as a carrier signal for social politics and only incidentally to generate insight into the nature of things. (Having exposed myself to altogether too much of the Australian Association of Philosophy conference in the last week may well have contributed to this cynicism.)
You’re right—another problem is that the barriers to entry are poorly correlated with expertise. (In contrast to health care, where a would-be good doctor may burn out in med school but a student who doesn’t is likely to be competent.)
I have yet to see any criticism of philosophy at large (as opposed to some given sub-discipline, or particular theorist, or specific individual philosophy convention) that doesn’t just look like complaining about academic disciplines you don’t like (or possibly complaining about academic disciplines you are bad at).
My chief complaint about the academic discipline that I don’t like is the overwhelming frustration of seeing an activity that I love to engage in and in which I excel dominated by woo. Philosophy just isn’t the rational enquiry into the nature of things that I want it to be.
I find it difficult to imagine a combination of words that I could present that isn’t vulnerable to the above accusation.
Sure, that’s fair. I honestly like philosophy—it’s just sometimes much too tiring for me.
(Or, to be more precise, I like the work of expert philosophers. Philosophical questions do attract a lot of well-meaning ignoramuses, especially online.)
On the one hand, you’re right, but on the other hand, reading philosophy is often more like trying to follow the plot of a really boring SF novel than like learning anything. On the gripping hand, this is probably because philosophy is hard and skill at philosophy isn’t uniformly correlated with skill at writing.
I guess I’m saying I can see both sides or something.
I would have said it is because philosophy as commonly practised is a relatively simple skill that serves primarily as a carrier signal for social politics and only incidentally to generate insight into the nature of things. (Having exposed myself to altogether too much of the Australian Association of Philosophy conference in the last week may well have contributed to this cynicism.)
You’re right—another problem is that the barriers to entry are poorly correlated with expertise. (In contrast to health care, where a would-be good doctor may burn out in med school but a student who doesn’t is likely to be competent.)
I have yet to see any criticism of philosophy at large (as opposed to some given sub-discipline, or particular theorist, or specific individual philosophy convention) that doesn’t just look like complaining about academic disciplines you don’t like (or possibly complaining about academic disciplines you are bad at).
My chief complaint about the academic discipline that I don’t like is the overwhelming frustration of seeing an activity that I love to engage in and in which I excel dominated by woo. Philosophy just isn’t the rational enquiry into the nature of things that I want it to be.
I find it difficult to imagine a combination of words that I could present that isn’t vulnerable to the above accusation.
Since we’re discussing it: here’s Eliezer’s rant on philosophy and how it’s bad at reductionism.
Sure, that’s fair. I honestly like philosophy—it’s just sometimes much too tiring for me.
(Or, to be more precise, I like the work of expert philosophers. Philosophical questions do attract a lot of well-meaning ignoramuses, especially online.)