By Philosophy Club Members
Thales of Miletus, often considered the father of Western philosophy, is famous for two reasons. First, he is one of the first known figures to replace supernatural explanations with natural ones. And second, for doing one of the most stereotypical philosopher things ever: tripping into a well because he was looking at the stars. A Thracian girl nearby, so runs the account, teased him.
And so begins philosophy.
Today, philosophy doesn’t market well. Branded by opacity, sidelined as “impractical” and distanced from worldly concerns, it recedes from our radars. Now and then, perhaps at a funeral or in a college class, we may “philosophize,” but it’s rare.
For one, philosophy requires privilege and investment, making it inaccessible. Most people can’t feed a family by thinking about being, for example.
Many also caricature philosophy. The philosopher remains a Thales, tripping into wells, nose-deep in a book on categories and syllogisms, as the world rushes past in a whir of science, technology and profit.
So why study it? How can the fledgling philosophy major ward off that damning question, “What can you do with that?”
For one, philosophy is all about argument and critical thinking. From Thales to Chomsky, philosophers have argued. That’s their bread and butter. And for better or worse, we all have to argue and sift through a complex world, no matter what our jobs may be.
Philosophy also touches on fundamental life issues. An accounting major balances funds, a chemist works a burette and the philosophy major asks how to find meaning or happiness. To study philosophy is to learn how to die, says Cicero. But also how to live.
And philosophy exposes us to new ideas as well. People think in new ways, questioning status quos and exploring alien outlooks, leading to discoveries and reforms. Such people don’t take “truths” at face value or accept an answer without good reasons. Philosophers can still be elitist and conceited. They can also be sexist or racist. But the discipline of philosophy itself challenges these propensities—or hopes to.
Perhaps philosophy doesn’t need to be “practical.” The 20th century philosopher Josef Pieper argues that “the philosophical act” should break us from the everyday through “wonder.” As he writes, “one who experiences wonder is one who, astounded by the deeper aspect of the world, cannot hear the immediate demands of life — if even for a moment, that moment when he gazes on the astounding vision of the world.”
This wonder and its world-shredding, noise-muting brilliance defines philosophy for Pieper. Philosophy lifts “the painted veil that those who live call life,” to quote Percy Shelly. It forces us to backtrack from frays and ask why we’re fighting. It saturates experience with poignancy and meaning, bringing selves and worlds into being.
This may be idealistic, but it is simply an argument, cultivated by books and daily self-reflection. As an argument, it invites conversation. It invites philosophy. And this is the goal: to keep asking, to keep wondering.
