The Purpose of Philosophy

Philosophy is not a hobby.

I’ve encountered many people that seem to think philosophy is an esoteric practice farfetched from either the harsh realities of life, an easy excuse to not take action or to delay action, or an unnecessary burden in our quest to find happiness or peace. Lest we forget that we need philosophy because it is the only way to discern right from wrong, and discerning right from wrong is not something we do for fun. If we claim to study philosophy, but can never make any conclusions that will cause us to act differently in the world around us, we have failed. Conversely, if we dismiss it as something optional or dispensable, we also have failed. We do it because we owe it to ourselves, to the people around us, and the people that have preceded us, to do better—by making better decisions.

Indeed, no one is stopping you from abdicating yourself from this admittedly arduous responsibility of determining right from wrong, but don’t put to shame everyone who came before you that tried to. Do not take for granted all the fruits of good decision-making that came from leaders in the past who took responsibility to seriously contemplate the path they were going to take their people. It’s far too easy to say that philosophy isn’t necessary when you aren’t the one making the brutally difficult decisions—when you aren’t the one primarily responsible for countless human lives, for the fate of a nation, for ensuring good prevails against evil on this earth. And when the inevitable time comes—when the evil arrives at your doorstep, when those countless lives are lost, when a nation has crumbled into dust, when evil prevails—you should not have put yourself in a position where you have to apologize for your ignorance, for your complacency, and for your self-righteousness because you didn’t want to think about what’s right; at the very least, be grateful that someone beside you did.

Philosophy is not about winning the argument.

I’ve encountered many people in my life that use philosophy as a bludgeon to strongarm their way through difficult conversations to prove their own righteousness or intellectual worth. It may be that there exists an absolute right, an absolute wrong, and a universal truth. If they do indeed exist, it is certainly not something we are able to attain, let alone comprehend. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a right, a wrong, and truths in the context of our own existence. If we strive for something—happiness, fulfillment, freedom, or prosperity, whether for ourselves or others in this world—there are right and wrong choices that will either further or hinder our ability to achieve these things. We should not make excuses for ourselves to circumvent the struggle we must endure to discern right from wrong by believing that they don’t exist. They do exist, and if we search arduously enough, deep down in our hearts, we intuitively know they exist.

Philosophy is not merely self-help.

It’s humanity-help; much of philosophy requires profound introspection and places great emphasis on our conscience—the ability to discern right from wrong in the moment when it matters—but the very reason why these decisions matter at all in the first place is because other beings exist in our world, and our actions and inaction alike can have inexorable impact on their fate. The reason why it often is classified as self-help is that the rigor, the intention, and moral awareness that is required to discern right from wrong often has the indirect effect of bringing clarity to your own mind.

Philosophy is not overcomplication or intellectual masturbation.

There are very few meaningful problems in our world that are served well by the multiple choice question. Why, then, do we insist on using this as a core part of our standardized tests and curriculums, even up to the university level? The multiple choice question begins with the premise of crassly removing all the nuance from topics that are endlessly nuanced. If we are to do what is right, we cannot hide from nuance; oversimplifying is not conducive to anything but ignorance. In the vast majority of challenges that we face, we must think. We must weigh all possible solutions equally, understanding that each have their own consequences that we can and cannot foresee, and, more importantly, remember that sometimes there are no solutions.

A need for philosophy does not predicate a need for complexity. Many can live a simple, beautiful life, but it is nonetheless a life lived with sound philosophy, whether the person living it admitted to it or not. Furthermore, the need for complexity in our thought is but a mirror to the complexity that is inherent in our modern world. Surely, if we could do away with it, we would have already. But it’s not going away. We pay a hefty price for our convenience and our prosperity. And as the lines become ever blurred between right and wrong in achieving that convenience and prosperity, we must ready our minds for the moment it matters most.