Philosophy means, literally, “love of wisdom”. So what kind of wisdom have I gained from my education in philosophy, and why is it valuable? Well, I can tell you this much – I still don’t know why we’re here, I can’t tell you what happens after death, and I am no closer to understanding the meaning of life. In fact, if anything, I am more confused now than I was at the outset of my college career. But this confusion no longer feels disorienting or overwhelming; rather, it feels like guidance. Ultimately, I haven’t developed a ‘philosophy’ of life; I haven’t discovered rules by which to live. Instead, I’ve come to realize that it is precisely a life rich with unanswered questions that has the most direction.
What does it mean to have lived well, and how do we do it? Do we devote ourselves to acquisition and development of virtues? Do we live in accordance with a categorical imperative? Do we work to maximize the happiness of those around us? Or do we work to maximize our own? To me, these all seem to be compelling suggestions, and four years of philosophical education have brought me no closer to singling out one particular answer. Perhaps only living will teach me how to live well. But philosophy has given me prescriptions with which to experiment: for example, Aristotle’s belief that excellence is not an act, but a habit; Kant’s command that we must never treat men merely as means, but rather as ends in themselves; Peter Singer’s challenge to recognize our moral obligation to perform so-called “acts of charity”. I don’t think any of us can say for sure how we ought to live now so that in the future, we’ll feel confident that we’ve lived well. But these are starting points from which I can develop my own vision of how I’d like to live, so that in my future, I’ll have fewer doubts, if any, about whether or not I’ve done right by myself.
Courses in epistemology and skepticism have led me to questions regarding knowledge. What constitutes ‘knowledge’? What does it amount to? What are its limits? Philosophy has taught me that our knowledge rarely, if ever, satisfies the criterion of certainty. Though we go through our daily lives taking numerous facts for granted, I’ve learned that it doesn’t take all that much of a change in our way of thinking to throw all of those facts into question. I don’t take this to mean that we ought to go around tip-toeing, fearing that the very ground beneath us might cease to exist, but it does mean that we ought to practice humility. We should allow for the possibility of being wrong, even – and especially – when we’re absolutely sure of ourselves. In the field of medicine, I’ll be working with hard facts, proven procedures, and verified treatments. I trust that the concrete confidence of science will give me the necessary confidence to become a great doctor. At the same time, I trust that the perspective that I’ve gained from philosophy will keep me in check, reminding me that I am fallible, despite all my certainty. I have no doubt that our knowledge can amount to a great deal, like the prevention and treatment of disease. But I believe also that humility – acknowledging our personal limits, respecting the opinions of others, recognizing the possibility of alternative answers – is just as important, if not more.
Philosophy of mind is a particularly audacious branch of philosophy because it aims at questions that we might be fundamentally barred from answering. What does consciousness consist in? How do we even begin to investigate something from which we can’t detach ourselves? Through the very process of observing consciousness, we invariably invoke consciousness. We can’t separate ourselves from our own mind in order to objectively observe its function, but we also can’t access someone else’s. This is certainly a cause for frustration. But rather than throwing our hands up and calling it quits, philosophers embrace this challenge and strive fervently for answers. We team up with cognitive science, psychology, neurobiology, computer science – a number of different disciplines in an attempt to solve the ultimate mystery. Hard questions don’t deter us. On the contrary, they invigorate us, excite us, and push us to test the limits of our capacity for understanding. As human beings, we are gifted with a mind so brilliant that it is unparalleled by anything else we’ve encountered. Though we’re still far from unraveling its mysteries, we nevertheless do justice to this gift by tenaciously facing some of the most daunting puzzles of our time.
Wisdom, perhaps, is not knowing all the answers, but rather, having the right questions. What philosophy has given me is the ability to develop more questions for every answer that I come across. I believe that the best education is not the one that gives you a full and complete account of something, but instead, the one that teaches you how much more there is to learn.
