Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Why Philosophical Reading is Different

It is worth saying a few words about what it means to do philosophical reading, because reading is such an important part of this philosophy course. It is also worthwhile, since such a distinction may seem superfluous or even pedantic. Why must we distinguish between philosophical and everyday reading? People who finish high school should be able to read and therefore they should be able to read any text written in their language.

Sartre à la bibliotheque.

But it is precisely this phrase “their language” that is deceptive (in part because it is not language that belongs to us, but vice versa). Although we may all speak English, there is no guarantee that what I am speaking about in English is something you will understand.

For example, doctors speak English, but they have a specialized set of vocabulary and practices. Because of this, frequently they must explain what they are saying in layman’s terms (who knows what a layman is?). Yet even in “layman’s terms” the patient may still only have a general or rough idea. When a doctor says that her patient suffered a myocardial infarction, she may then need to say that this is a “heart attack,” so that the patient understands her. Despite this understanding, between the doctor and the patient there is still a tremendous difference in knowledge, which is only partially indicated by the language used. The doctor understands the causes and prognosis of a heart attack, as well as the causes unique to each individual patient. The doctor may be able to provide an analogy to illustrate the condition, whereas a patient usually cannot.

In other words, there is a dramatic difference between the vocabulary and the knowledge of individuals within a single language. Philosophical texts make unique demands upon their readers.

Here are four rules for philosophical reading:
  1. Approach the text with good will. Most of the time you can demand from a text or a person that it satisfies your conditions for exchange. The opposite is the case with a philosophical text: you must satisfy its conditions. If you are having trouble reading it, the problem is with you. If the text seems repetitious, you are missing the different points being made. In every respect, difficulties or problems are your responsibility.
  2. Assume that you will need to read the text a second time. Give yourself plenty of time to read the text and be ready to read it more than once. Although the second reading will be more productive than the first, every successive reading can also be more productive. But only if you allow it to be.
  3. Know that the text does have a specific, sophisticated meaning and that “understanding” it is not merely a matter of interpretation. Not all interpretations are potentially correct. There are better and worse interpretations of all philosophical texts. You’re required the know the better. My job is to show them to you.
  4. This point is the most difficult: give up all of your own presuppositions or beliefs, in as much as that is possible, but be able to ask questions of the text. Most of your own presuppositions or ideas will not correspond to those of the philosophers we are reading. There are a variety of reasons for this, but most of them are cultural and historical. To understand these texts, you must put aside most of your own presuppositions and ideas, acknowledging that they cannot conform to those of the philosophers we are reading. Despite this, you need to be able to ask questions of a text. Frequently, our questions arise from our own perspective, our presuppositions and ideas and the relation between those and what we are confronting. Here you need to ask questions that do not emerge from that background.