I very much relate to this wonderful clip from Malcolm in the Middle:
As I left one hurricane cleanup task unfinished, and checked on another, I remembered this clip. And it occurred to me that this kind of progression of following one problem leading to another is a requirement of doing philosophy. If you ask a philosopher if virtue can be taught, they’ll want to know what you mean by virtue. If you say it’s excellence of the soul, they’ll want to know what kind of excellence…and so on.
This kind of thought process, which seems scattered to some, has even been formalized for millenia in the syllogism argument form. Let me give an example (my philosopher brain wants to also explain all the details of how these syllogisms work, but alas…If you are interested, here’s a handout I made on these kinds of syllogisms: Syllogism Handout)
Suppose I want to argue that all just people are happy. I can sketch a basic rationale for this claim in the form of a syllogism:
All the just are good.
All who are good are happy.
Therefore, all who are just are happy.
Here’s the advantage of the syllogism. It doesn’t so much prove my conclusion, but it shows that if the conclusion is false then one of the two premises (statements given in support of the conclusion) must also be false. So if we disagree about the conclusion, we can do more than just contradict each other (“This is true” “No it isn’t” “Yes it is”). The way forward is critiquing one of the premises given in support of the conclusion.
If you disagree with the “all who are just are happy” conclusion, then you have to say that (at least) one of the two premises above are false. And you can do more than just assert that, say, premise 2 is false. You can construct a rationale also in the form of a syllogism. So:
Some who are good are mistreated.
None who are mistreated are happy.
Therefore, some who are good are not happy.
Now we’ve introduced a new term into the discussion that wasn’t there before (“mistreatment”). If I want to defend the original conclusion, I can address the statements made above about being mistreated. For example:
Some who are mistreated remain uncorrupted by such mistreatment.
All who remain uncorrupted are happy.
Therefore, some who are mistreated are happy.
(This conclusion contradicts premise 2 of the previous argument - you still with me?)
And you can see how this could continue. And here’s the thing. We philosophers love this. This kind of argument is not the whole of philosophy. But we philosophers learn to, as my advisor put it, “see the world in premises and conclusions” in a way that’s modeled by the above progression of syllogisms. To us it’s not scattered, it’s uncovering more and more of our fundamental ideas and commitments.
Socrates’ interlocutors often complained about how he allowed their conversations to wander into areas unrelated to the original question. In Plato’s Gorgias, Callicles thinks it’s obvious that “the best” men deserve a greater share of the goods the city can provide. Callicles, like many after him, is assured in his view of what qualities make one best, and how those qualities make one both deserving of a greater share of good things and capable of getting that share (but wronged if you don’t get it, even though you deserve it because you’re capable of getting it…or something). For Callicles, the “greatness” he has in mind has nothing to do with the intelligence and skill of craftsmen like doctors and shoemakers. But Socrates gleefully brings these occupations into the discussion to argue by analogy about Callicles’ claims. Callicles is annoyed:
By the gods! You simply don’t let up on your continual talk of shoemakers and cleaners, cooks and doctors, as if our discussion were about them! (Plato, Gorgias, 491a)
Socrates and Callicles don’t make much progress together. Socrates pushes Callicles to make clear what he means by “better” and “greater.” Callicles complains that Socrates knows what Callicles is talking about, and that Socrates keeps trying to change the subject.
I can understand Callicles’ frustration. And when coaxed, Intro to philosophy students will admit frustration with Socrates and sympathy with Callicles.
While it might seem frustrating, Socrates invites us to slow down. We could rush to confident conclusions based on unexplored premises. But Socrates viewed that as a counterfeit of thinking. And there’s something to that. I think we’ve seen enough of the communication and digital ages to know that speed our communication does not tend to enhance its clarity and depth.
In 1895 Lewis Carroll published a short dialogue in the philosophy journal Mind. It’s called, “What the tortoise said to Achilles.” It’s about (among other things) doing philosophy as slowly as necessary. More people should know it. Indeed, I think everyone should read it. Here it is:
How in the world does a philosopher make an argument in the era of "Fake News"? It must be so frustrating!