Part I
The Nature of Philosophy
1 The Main Features of Philosophy
1.1 Philosophy as a conceptual and reflective discipline
Philosophy is a conceptual discipline. Its method is introspective and reflective. It is based on our intuitions and on our grasp of the meanings of our words. Yet it aspires now, after two and a half millennia of refinement, refutation and re-thinking, not to be provincial to any particular language. Nor is it confined to any particular historical period, cultural milieu, socio-political system or religious affiliation. Philosophy strives to be of universal appeal, to any rational intellect, human or otherwise. In that regard, it is a lot like Mathematics. Philosophy tries not to depend on empirical considerations, even though one of its main contemporary aims is to come to mutually enlightening terms with natural science. There has been increased interest of late in so-called âexperimental philosophyâ. This purports to be a form of Philosophy while being a branch of empirical inquiry. âX-phiâ strikes this author, however, as a straightforward branch of social psychology or sociology or anthropology. For it involves the use of surveys and questionnaires to find out what ordinary people think about certain philosophical issues. (And when the survey-respondents are chosen from within the philosophical community, X-phi is a poor substitute for simply reading the journals.)
The archetypical philosopher (and henceforth we drop the adjective) does not perform real-world experiments, or make observations in the field, or conduct opinion polls. The philosopherâs tool-kit contains no measuring rules, no scales, no clocks. The most one will find, in the literal sense of âtool-kitâ, is paper and pencil â or, nowadays, a laptop computer. In the more figurative sense, what one would hope to find in the philosopherâs tool-kit is a mind wide open, ready to turn on the searchlights within. The philosopher must be prepared to mull over words, stretch concepts to their limits, imagine far-fetched, bizarre situations, and consider principles of the highest level of abstraction and the widest domain of application.
Philosophical method in its purest form is, in one simple phrase, a priori, not a posteriori. The clichĂ© for this is âthe armchair methodâ. Another hackneyed expression is âputting oneâs thinking-cap onâ. Methods of investigation, and the knowledge they enable us to obtain, are called a priori when they do not depend in any way on our sensory experience. Also, truths are called a priori when they can be known in that way. By contrast, a posteriori truths are those that can be known only by appeal to sensory experience.
A closely related distinction is that between analytic and synthetic truths. A sentence is said to be analytically true just in case it is true solely in virtue of its meaning, quite independently of any appeal to âfacts about the worldâ. Mere a priori reflection on oneâs grasp of the meaning of such a sentence should be enough to enable one to recognize that it is indeed true. Thus analytic truth is a priori. Put another way, it is truth that is accessible âmerely by reflecting on the meanings of the words involvedâ. Simple examples are âAll red things are coloredâ and âEvery bachelor is unmarriedâ. Once one has grasped the concepts and/or the meanings of the words involved, one can tell that these sentences are true without any further recourse to sensory experience. And that last observation is true regardless of the fact that one needed sensory experience in order to acquire mastery of the concepts involved (or knowledge of the meanings of the words involved).
Truths that are not analytic are called synthetic. Given the foregoing characterization of analytic truths, it is clear that a synthetically true sentence must owe its truth not only to its meaning, but also to âfacts about the worldâ. Thus synthetic truths tell us something informative about the world. A firm grasp of both these distinctions is vital for a proper appreciation of philosophical debates that took place in the twentieth century â including debates over the question whether the two distinctions are of any value at all. For more detailed discussion of this issue, see §5.2.
We have stressed that Philosophy is done a priori. Philosophy is also fundamentally argumentative. It seeks to establish conclusions firmly, with the help of logic, from clearly stated premises. A critic can disagree with such argumentation in two important ways. (This holds good for any intellectual discipline, not just for Philosophy.) One can rejectapremise â or, at least, refuse to accept it. Alternatively, one can demur at a particular step within the argument, complaining â very often with justification â that it is fallacious. A fallacious step of reasoning is one that cannot be guaranteed always to transmit truth from its immediate premises to its conclusion.
The intellectual aim of philosophizing is to achieve reflective equilibrium. This the philosopher does by synthesizing, integrating, and reconciling all our immediate intuitions, important insights, arduously deduced results, and inspired hypotheses. The philosopher seeks to resolve paradoxes and eliminate inconsistencies, and to provide proper foundations where appropriate. The aim is to attain some overarching understanding both of the human condition within the natural cosmos, and of the connections among thought, language, and the world; emotion and reason; fact and value; being and truth.
1.2 The main areas of Philosophy
The five main areas of Philosophy have traditionally been Metaphysics, Epistemology, Logic, Ethics (also known as Moral Philosophy) and Aesthetics. (A recent, and disappointing, departure from this tradition has been the comparative neglect, of late, of Aesthetics among the ranks of professional philosophers. This may be because theorizing in Aesthetics has migrated to other university departments catering to students with appropriate interests, such as Literature, Music, and Art History. If so, this is a pity, for it incurs the risk of aesthetic theorizing becoming less general and systematic. One hopes that the trend might be reversed.)
Here are some general comments about, and sample questions from, each of these respective areas.
1.2.1 Metaphysics
The area of Philosophy known as Metaphysics is concerned with the necessities and possibilities governing existence. The name of this area derives from the Greek word âmetaâ, meaning âafterâ: the relevant book by Aristotle (384â322 BC), which attended to these deeper concerns about existence, tended to be anthologized immediately after his book on physics.
Today, however, we understand the prefix âmetaâ as indicating a sort of conceptual or theoretical ascent, âgoing one step higherâ, in our contemplation of the world through particular âlower-levelâ scientific or philosophical disciplines. In Metaethics, for example, one inquires into what sort of facts moral facts might be â indeed, whether there could be any such facts at all. There is even a branch of contemporary Philosophy called Metaphilosophy, concerned with the nature, purpose and direction of Philosophy itself.
Metaphysical questions typically arise âat the edgeâ or âat the limitsâ of scientific or mathematical inquiry. They concern âultimateâ matters, to which some default answer is usually presupposed by the intellectual disciplines in question. So, for example, Physics can investigate what kinds of fundamental particles there are, and what laws govern their interactions. Most philosophers believe, however, that it lies beyond the reach of Physics, and of science in general, to explain why there should be something rather than nothing; or why there should be any regularities in nature at all.
Some sample metaphysical questions follow. Note that some of them are not entirely independent of scientific theorizing. For example, the question whether every event has a cause receives a negative answer from quantum physics. This is because of the random and completely unpredictable nature of the radioactive decay of individual fundamental particles. These uncaused events were discovered, however â by Marie Curie (1867â1934) â only about a century ago; so it has been only since then that the question whether every event has a cause has begun to strike some cognoscenti as a little dated.
By contrast, however, consider the question concerning how consciousness relates to the workings of mere matter. This question was stoutly maintained, by prominent European scientists and philosophers in the mid-to-late nineteenth century, and has been maintained by many Anglo-American analytical philosophers since then, to be, in principle, beyond the reach of any scientific determination. The phrase âin principleâ here, which is often used in such discussions, str...