Though there are other good answers, this seems to me the best answer to the question about the point of academic philosophy:
"Questions that philosophers figure out how to answer get relabeled as “science.”"
If you find an answer – as natural philosophers like Newton and Einstein did – you might found a new realm of science. That can be an epic victory for human knowledge, perhaps the biggest victory possible in any academic endeavor.
I wonder if there isn’t something important missing, though?
I have sometimes flippantly said that my impression as an outsider is that “academic philosophers are philosophers in the same way sports commentators are athletes”.
I.e.: They know everything there is to know about philosophy, and can talk about it all day long, but most are essentially spectators, not participants, and their remarkable performances are few and far between.
I’m not entirely sure, however, whether that’s a feature or a bug. I can see both sides, though I lean towards one.
My question, then: Shouldn’t the point of academic philosophy include something about striving to actually perform “public thought work”? Which to me would mean something like asking and attempting to answer big questions in public? (At least the corner of the public that wants to engage.) Using their powers to be public thought provokers?
Good, high-profile examples would be Peter Singer or Nick Bostrom, but the bar for influence doesn’t have to be quite so high.
This (getting attention, being fresh and controversial and true to one’s philosophy all at the same time) is obviously hard. Conversely, it will be easy to feel like a “failure” (as for athletes who don’t make it). And that is why I think it’s important to prod and ask. I don’t know whether most(?) academic philosophers don’t consider it “the point” because they’re secretly (even to themselves) afraid of failing, or because they actually don’t think it’s important to their work.
I think there's more than one way to be a good philosopher. Most academic philosophers shy away from doing public philosophy of the kind that I like to engage in not because they're afraid they can't do it but because they're happy doing other things. To pursue the metaphor I used in the piece, philosophers both map out the blind alleys of rational deliberation and help guide others through the first turnings. Many philosophers are much more interested in the former project than the latter, out of a conviction that they can somehow find a way through.
Now some philosophers are both intellectual innovators and great communicators. Singer and Bostrom are good examples. But I don't think every philosopher is a failed Singer. They just have different professional and intellectual goals.
Somewhat related to this is the fact that most contemporary philosophers work in academia and so are subject to the perverse professional incentives thereof. Singer is very well known, his position at Princeton is secure. But if you try to be Singer and fall short, you get fired. Academia rewards journal publications, and journal publications tend to accrue to people who aim for small ball contributions to existing debates. So most philosophers are trained to play that game. It's not a worthless game to play, but I think it is played too much, and that is a result of professional incentives.
You’re right, of course. People have different motivations and incentives, and that’s not only okay, but mostly a good thing.
And teaching other people to think better is certainly a good way to spend one’s career.
But if someone is a paid philosopher (academic or other), the personal gratification of exploring the blind alleys must be the bonus, not the “point”, IMO. (This goes for all of the humanities: Personal gratification may be enough of a point to justify spending as much of one’s time, attention, and resources as one wants. But someone who spends that of other people, needs more to offer. I had to learn that the hard way, as someone who just wanted to write.)
I worry most about the perverse professional incentives in academia, though.
Though there are other good answers, this seems to me the best answer to the question about the point of academic philosophy:
"Questions that philosophers figure out how to answer get relabeled as “science.”"
If you find an answer – as natural philosophers like Newton and Einstein did – you might found a new realm of science. That can be an epic victory for human knowledge, perhaps the biggest victory possible in any academic endeavor.
This is good.
I wonder if there isn’t something important missing, though?
I have sometimes flippantly said that my impression as an outsider is that “academic philosophers are philosophers in the same way sports commentators are athletes”.
I.e.: They know everything there is to know about philosophy, and can talk about it all day long, but most are essentially spectators, not participants, and their remarkable performances are few and far between.
I’m not entirely sure, however, whether that’s a feature or a bug. I can see both sides, though I lean towards one.
My question, then: Shouldn’t the point of academic philosophy include something about striving to actually perform “public thought work”? Which to me would mean something like asking and attempting to answer big questions in public? (At least the corner of the public that wants to engage.) Using their powers to be public thought provokers?
Good, high-profile examples would be Peter Singer or Nick Bostrom, but the bar for influence doesn’t have to be quite so high.
This (getting attention, being fresh and controversial and true to one’s philosophy all at the same time) is obviously hard. Conversely, it will be easy to feel like a “failure” (as for athletes who don’t make it). And that is why I think it’s important to prod and ask. I don’t know whether most(?) academic philosophers don’t consider it “the point” because they’re secretly (even to themselves) afraid of failing, or because they actually don’t think it’s important to their work.
What do you think?
I think there's more than one way to be a good philosopher. Most academic philosophers shy away from doing public philosophy of the kind that I like to engage in not because they're afraid they can't do it but because they're happy doing other things. To pursue the metaphor I used in the piece, philosophers both map out the blind alleys of rational deliberation and help guide others through the first turnings. Many philosophers are much more interested in the former project than the latter, out of a conviction that they can somehow find a way through.
Now some philosophers are both intellectual innovators and great communicators. Singer and Bostrom are good examples. But I don't think every philosopher is a failed Singer. They just have different professional and intellectual goals.
Somewhat related to this is the fact that most contemporary philosophers work in academia and so are subject to the perverse professional incentives thereof. Singer is very well known, his position at Princeton is secure. But if you try to be Singer and fall short, you get fired. Academia rewards journal publications, and journal publications tend to accrue to people who aim for small ball contributions to existing debates. So most philosophers are trained to play that game. It's not a worthless game to play, but I think it is played too much, and that is a result of professional incentives.
You’re right, of course. People have different motivations and incentives, and that’s not only okay, but mostly a good thing.
And teaching other people to think better is certainly a good way to spend one’s career.
But if someone is a paid philosopher (academic or other), the personal gratification of exploring the blind alleys must be the bonus, not the “point”, IMO. (This goes for all of the humanities: Personal gratification may be enough of a point to justify spending as much of one’s time, attention, and resources as one wants. But someone who spends that of other people, needs more to offer. I had to learn that the hard way, as someone who just wanted to write.)
I worry most about the perverse professional incentives in academia, though.