I cocked-up my Cambridge interview. You know the ones (no, I didn’t either) where candidates who look good enough on paper (in my case, for a philosophy Masters) need to also look good enough in person. Well, having long harboured (completely unfounded) aspirations to attend ‘Oxbridge’ this Aussie country kid was about to come good and she cocked it up — possibly my worst error of judgment in my academic philosophy education.
Lucky. Continue reading
We’ve all heard it said, probably confidently announced it ourselves. It usually crops up when we are talking about things like art, music, wine. That definitive proclamation
‘I don’t know anything about [insert particular thing] but I know what I like!’
Often followed by an emphatic ‘And I know I don’t like that!’ Typically whilst aggressively pointing at some divisive piece of contemporary art, avant-garde music, or expensive wine. Continue reading
Well, a year ago today the How To Be A Philosopher blog was born. Ten monthly editions, two special editions, and an interlude later and fellow philosophers we celebrate our first birthday! Hip Hip Hooray! Thank you regular readers — your sincere curiosity and quiet approval makes this ongoing project so worthwhile for me.
The story so far: Continue reading
Sinon is brought to Priam, from folio 101r Roman Virgil
We witness the greatest human horror acted out for the good of an idea. Lives, societies, countries can be fractured, mutilated, deeply and inconsolably scarred by the embodiment of an idea. In turn, we worry about the harm ideas can cause. We fear they will mess with our heads, bend wills, break hearts.
So last time (excluding the special edition), when I suggested that we imitate — that is, imaginatively act out — ideas that are not our own as our own, I also acknowledged the worry that we risk being damaged, corrupted, by the bad ones. Continue reading
We’ve all had those conversations. You know the sort. The ones where you are simply talked-at — incessantly. The talker-at only pausing for necessary bodily functions (well, we hope). And if you do manage to get that edgeways word in it is either received with eyes-glazed impatience or that faux-attention that is really only seeking a gap to recommence the talking-at.
Yet, we are all guilty of them, these conversations that amount to no conversation at all. While we are usually (excruciatingly) aware when we are being talked-at, we often fail to realise when we are doing the talking-at. Especially when it all seems so civilised, politely taking turns to talk, keeping friendly eye contact, and paying sincere attention. Your body (including your mouth) is doing all the right things, but in your head all you hear is BLAH BLAH BLAH, except perhaps the bits you want/like/agree, or the random bits that make you go WHAT?! Continue reading
You may have noticed that it is now well into April, and alas, no new post. And, despite vague promises of a late edition, this is to let you know that there will not be one at all. (Technically, yes pedants, this is a ‘blog post’; but you know what I mean.)
Two reasons. Continue reading
Okay, no more messing about, let’s do some philosophy. Yes, that means you!
Last time I concluded that my guiding principle for being a philosopher is to continually ask ‘what are we doing and why are we doing it?’ Now I am going to show you one way you can put this into practice, and I am going to start big. No made-up examples, no obscure dead white guys, no philosophy finger-pointing at pop-culture faux pas.
My example comes from living philosophical powerhouse Daniel Dennett. His Intuition Pumps is an excellent book offering an invaluable philosophical toolkit for thinking. Designed for a general readership it is extra pleasingly accessible, yet remains challenging, robust, thoroughgoing philosophy. Go check it out.
Having had the pleasure of seeing him lecture, Professor Dennett is a genial, yet formidable character, who presents his complex ideas with such convincing ease that you risk being lulled into placid acceptance. These charms, in person and in print, gives us all the more reason to consider what he says carefully. Both to make sure we actually get his ideas right (not merely accept them), and to check if they are actually right. In this instance we adjust the guiding principle to ask: What is Dennett doing, and why is he doing it? Continue reading
Last time I signed off by saying, ‘make mine an espresso.’ While I do occasionally enjoy an espresso, I usually drink long blacks. I also said how fitting it was that my opening post was ‘being composed in a cafe.’ Although I did mostly work on it in my usual cafe, sipping a long black, I also worked on it at home at my desk, at the kitchen table, even on the couch. In fact I first sketched out its main points travelling on a train. Unlike my observations of party-goers which I made clearly generic and rhetorical, the statements about myself imply that they were actual events. I was saying something true.
Instead, I admit, I also employed them rhetorically. I went with the ubiquitous espresso over my more obscure preference of long black, because I thought it enhanced the prose, drawing a familiar picture of someone hunched over her laptop taking minuscule sips from those tiny cups simply to justify her continued occupation of a cafe seat. Similarly, by implying that my philosophy blog was being written entirely in a cafe I aimed to signify a continuity between my project and philosophy’s coffee house tradition. Above all else, though, I hoped generally my rhetoric would convey a genuine sense of opening a conversation; like one between friends meeting for a coffee — sincere, thoughtful, cheeky, stimulating, human.
Nevertheless, I am a philosopher. My admission of rhetorical liberties may be forgivable for a ‘writer,’ but a philosopher? Continue reading
I do my work in cafes. I am of the tribe of lone Mac toting, slow sippers, who ‘hot desk’ for the price of a double espresso. Amidst this tribe of authors, playwrights, English students, designers, entrepreneurs, aspiring or otherwise, I work, I think, I write. The hot young baristas serve me with friendly familiarity, yet with no suspicion of what I do.
I am a philosopher. Continue reading