Reflection 4
PHILO-SOPHIA IS MUCH MORE THAN CRITICAL THINKING
One idea that philosophical practice has inherited from academic philosophy, often enthusiastically, is critical thinking. Indeed, I have often heard it said that critical thinking is central to philosophical practice.
It is hardly surprising that critical thinking is popular nowadays, given society’s pragmatic and technological spirit (presumably, anything can be fixed with the proper device) and its thirst for clear and straightforward answers. There are numerous texts and university courses on critical thinking, as well as applications to specific fields, such as business ethics and medical ethics. The issue is, however, whether this form of discourse has anything to do with philo-sophia as a search for wisdom. Do we, philosophical practitioners, really need this philosophical inheritance, or do we have something more important to do than fixing arguments and testing for consistency?
Broadly speaking, the central theme in the idea of critical thinking is the attempt to examine ideas and test them for inadequacies of reasoning. More accurately, critical thinking examines ideas (concepts, theories, statements, assumptions, arguments, etc.) using reason, in order to determine what is warranted and what is unwarranted, what is valid and what is invalid, what is sound, clear, coherent and what is incoherent, confused, fallacious.
This kind of discourse may help purge our thoughts from inaccuracies, or make rational career choices, or make better investments in the stock-market. But as Plato’s cave allegory suggests, the quest for wisdom means much more than polishing our current ideas, which is to say—refining the shadows in our cave. It means, rather, moving beyond the narrow boundaries of our current worldview towards a greater vision of life and reality.
There are different ways of understanding what this going-out-of-the-cave might exactly mean. But it clearly implies some kind of inner transformation. It means, at the very least, learning to relate to life from a perspective that is broader than my particular circumstances and personal experiences; coming to appreciate—not just in thought but in my way of being—life’s multifaceted richness which extends far beyond popular opinions and simplistic distinctions; taking part in a greater reality than the limited world governed by my specific preferences and needs. This means self-transcending, and developing a broader foundation for a greater attitude to life.
But if philo-sophia is about inner transformation, then how can the methods of critical thinking be of more than peripheral help? Critical thinking seems to be more about smartness than wisdom, and smartness is not the sort of thing that in itself can transform us in a profound way. Furthermore, the role of critical thinking is to examine and critique already-existing ideas, not to construct new visions and give life to them. In this sense it is analogous to the way art-criticism relates to art: It trots behind vision-makers and scribbles its commentaries. If philo-sophia is about venturing into new dimensions, then it ought to focus on (metaphorically speaking) art rather than art-criticism, that is to say, on inspiring life rather than critiquing life. Admittedly, critical thinking might sometimes be of some help in removing old walls and obstacles, but it cannot bear the brunt of the philosophical work.
Think of times when your worldview has been transformed. I do not mean dramatic Platonic enlightenments, but normal broadening experiences of the sort we all undergo throughout our lifetime: cases in which some new vision opened your world to new ways of understanding—perhaps a social critique of Western society that made you realize how one-sided your views had been and that spurred you to explore new perspectives on society; or a spiritual text that inspired you to look beyond your fixed and acquired opinions; or the writings of Emerson or Bergson which opened your heart to the poetics of reality. Now, what was it about these visions that changed your worldview, that opened you to new depths, that injected into you new intellectual energies to transcend your previous world? Was it the logical validity of an argument? Or the theory’s absence of logical contradiction? Or the precise formulation of the assumptions? Or the clarity of the statements?
I imagine that the answer is clearly no. A theory may be perfect from the perspective of critical thinking and yet be boring, uninspiring, hackneyed, or even narrow-minded. Indeed, I have never met a single person who had been opened to a new vision by the sheer logical validity of an argument. When I recall visions that helped transform my own worldview, I realize that the secret of their success was that they made me ‘see’ reality in a new, deeper way. And they did so not by impressing me with their logical virtues, but by allowing me to make sense of my world, and connect to deeper aspects of life beyond the limitations of my previous horizons. Of course, I sometimes used critical thinking to polish a new thought, to improve a point here or there, to tighten some loose connection, but this was always secondary thinking, usually retroactive, and not the inspiring power itself.
This casts grave doubts on the idea that critical thinking can do much to promote a significant inner transformation. But there is a more fundamental reason why we should be wary of giving too much weight to critical thinking in philosophical practice. Critical thinking, as a discourse that examines already-existing ideas and critiques their logical virtues, seems much too small for philo-sophia.
More specifically, I find it strange that we philosophers, who take pride in dealing with the most fundamental issues of life, feel tempted to settle for so little: critical thinking. Our contemporary culture is dominated by ideas gone awry, by mass-produced slogans and superficial conceptions of life centering on blind consumerism, worship of power and money and comfort, social injustice, narcissist self-satisfaction, triviality, quick solutions and easy gratification. In the midst of this ideational abyss, how can we, as philosophers, satisfy ourselves with logical critiques? When the individual’s mind is brainwashed by mass-communication and manipulated by commercial and political powers, it is not the time to devote our energies to counseling conversations about the counselees’ hairstyle, so to speak, or the matching colors in their living room.
It seems to me that philosophical practice should be nothing less than a witness to the possibility of living life in a different way. This is not to say that we should try selling to the public a new ideology. There are more than enough New Age ideologies and self-proclaimed messiahs and self-help books. Philo-sophia does not have a product to sell, a solution, a canonical body of knowledge. Our philosophical way is not the way of doctrines and gurus, but that of free searching. We seek depth not in the sense of deep solutions but in the sense of the depth of wonder, of awe, even of confusion. Because, contrary to the popular conception that is so prevalent in our society, when one fumbles in the dark one is closer to Life, to wisdom, to reality than when one shuts oneself in finished solutions.
I believe, therefore, that our role is to serve as witnesses—in our conversations with counselees, in our companionship among ourselves, as well as in our private lives, witnesses to the possibility of being free seekers of wisdom.
One might object that this mission is too grand to be realistic. A bunch of philosophers would never make much of an impact upon Western culture. But even if this is true, so what? As it is sometimes said, the flower’s role is to flower, regardless of how many people come to smell it. It is not for us to adjust ourselves to current vogues for the sake of popularity. It is for us to live and interact as philosophically as we can, and if only a handful of people take notice, so be it.
