On Wittgenstein’s Comparison of Philosophical Methods to Therapies

Abstract

Wittgenstein’s comparison of philosophical methods to therapies has been interpreted in highly different ways. I identify the illness, the patient, the therapist and the ideal of health in Wittgenstein’s philosophical methods and answer four closely related questions concerning them that have often been wrongly answered by commentators. The results of this paper are, first, some answers to crucial questions: philosophers are not literally ill, patients of philosophical therapies are not always philosophers, not all philosophers qualify as therapists, the therapies are not necessarily to be thought of as psychological therapies and the ideal of health does not consist in the end of philosophy. Second, the paper shows that the comparison has had a misleading effect, because properties of therapies have been illegitimately projected onto the philosophical methods advanced by Wittgenstein.     

Heretical Hindsight: Patočka’s Phenomenology as Questioning Philosophy

I argue that Jan Pato?ka’s phenomenology can be understood as a kind of questioning philosophy that preserves the work and thought of Edmund Husserl by holding it in hindsight. Following Martin Heidegger’s lead to take up Husserl’s phenomenological questions more than Husserl’s answers, Pato?ka further develops Heidegger’s strategy with the addition of heresy: the philosophical process of distinguishing traditional questions from their answers in such a way as to preserve both, the original wonder sourced in questioning as well as the specific answers that compose tradition. As excellent answers can tend to eclipse the powerful dynamism of original questions, heretical philosophy is revealed to be Pato?ka’s way to take up, modify, and enact Husserl’s motto “to the [questions] themselves!” In this way, Pato?ka’s further develops phenomenology while at the same time throwing a thinker back onto phenomenology’s central questions.     

Amie Thomasson's Easy Approach to Ontology

Philosophers have long debated whether abstract objects such as numbers and properties exist, but in recent years philosophical debate about what things exist has been ratcheted up more than a notch to question whether even ordinary objects such as pineapples and tables exist. One view has it that all existence questions are difficult questions whose answers hang on achieving an ontological theory that succeeds in carving nature at its joints. Some proponents of this view further claim to have succeeded in that carving, even without the benefit of any instrument sharper than the a priori arguments conjured in their armchairs, and to have discovered, alas, that no ordinary concrete objects exist. Naturally, many of us have been made to wonder what premise in the argument for that conclusion enjoys a plausibility greater than that of the negation of the argument's conclusion. In her remarkable new book, Ontology Made Easy, Amie Thomasson strives to do much more than that in defense of common‐sense ontology. But not only for common‐sense ontology. She propounds a unified approach to all existence questions—whether about the existence of dogs, shoes or tables, or about the existence of numbers, propositions or fictional characters—according to which existence questions “are not deep and difficult subjects for metaphysical dispute, but rather questions to be resolved straightforwardly by employing our conceptual competence, often combining this with empirical investigations” (20). Thomasson calls her way of resolving existence questions the easy approach to ontology, and to that I now turn.     

Philosophical Diversity and Disagreement

Widespread and lasting consensus has not been philosophy's fate. Indeed, one of philosophy's most striking features is its ability to accommodate “not only different answers to philosophical questions” but also “total disagreement on what questions are philosophical” (Rorty 1995 , 58). It is therefore hardly surprising that philosophers' responses to this metaphilosophical predicament have been similarly varied. This article considers two recent diagnoses of philosophical diversity: Kornblith and Rescher (respectively) claim that taking philosophical disagreement seriously does not lead to metaphilosophical scepticism. The article argues that their confidence is misplaced in so far as both wrongly assume that ordinary, first‐order philosophical practice and second‐order metaphilosophical reflection are separate enterprises.     

Philosophical Idling and Philosophical Relativity

Peter Unger has challenged philosophical objectivism, the thesis that traditional philosophical problems have definite objective answers. He argues from semantic relativity for philosophical relativity, the thesis that for certain philosophical problems, there is no objective answer. I clarify, formulate and challenge Unger's argument. According to Unger, philosophical relativism explains philosophical idling, the fact that philosophical debates appear endless, philosophical disagreements seem irresolvable, and very little substantial progress seems made towards satisfactory and definite answers to philosophical problems. I argue, however, that the reality of philosophical idling is doubtful and, ironically, undermined by philosophical relativism. I then raise problems for several steps in Unger's argument for philosophical relativity. I conclude by arguing that philosophical relativism can avoid self‐defeat only by an ad hoc limitation of its scope. 1     

SCEPTICISM ABOUT PHILOSOPHY

Suppose a person who is agnostic about most philosophical issues wishes to have true philosophical beliefs but equally wishes to avoid false philosophical beliefs. I argue that this truth-seeking, error-avoiding agnostic would not have good grounds for pursuing philosophy. Widespread disagreement shows that pursuing philosophy is not a reliable method of discovering true answers to philosophical questions. More likely than not, pursuing philosophy leads to false belief. Many attempts to rebut this sceptical argument fail.     

The Meaningfulness of Meaning Questions

Contra an expanding number of deflationary commentators onWittgenstein, I argue that philosophical questions about meaningare meaningful and that Wittgenstein gave us ample reason tobelieve so. Deflationists are right in claiming that Wittgensteinrejected the sceptical problem about meaning allegedly to befound in his later writings and also right in stressing Wittgenstein's anti-reductionism. But they are wrong in taking these dismissals to entail the end of all constructive philosophizing about meaning. Rather, I argue, the rejection of the sceptical problem requires that we abandon the questions that philosophers have traditionally addressed and that we replace them with more appropriate ones, to which constructive answers are forthcoming. However, though quietism is not the only alternative to reductionism, the rejection of reductionism does oblige us seriously to revise our sense of what constructive philosophy can achieve.     

What is A Philosophical Question?

There are many ways of understanding the nature of philosophical questions. One may consider their morphology, semantics, relevance, or scope. This article introduces a different approach, based on the kind of informational resources required to answer them. The result is a definition of philosophical questions as questions whose answers are in principle open to informed, rational, and honest disagreement, ultimate but not absolute, closed under further questioning, possibly constrained by empirical and logico‐mathematical resources, but requiring noetic resources to be answered. The article concludes with a discussion of some of the consequences of this definition for a conception of philosophy as the study (or “science”) of open questions, which uses conceptual design to analyse and answer them.     

The adequacy of language 1

he notion of linguistic adequacy (the adequacy of sentences to express or describe) is explicated in terms of a set theoretical model of the communication situation. Roughly: a message is adequate to the degree it answers the receiver's questions. Adequacy is distinguished from openness, in such a way that a message can be both completely adequate in a communication event and also “inexhaustibly open”;. Using this explication it is possible to translate and clarify several familiar philosophical theses concerning the adequacy of language. The view that “humanistic”; language differs from scientific language is clarified and criticized. Seven types of empirical test of the explication are discussed.     

Venturing Beyond Analytic Philosophy's “Best” Arguments to the Implied Inadequacies of Its Metaphilosophical Intuitions

Gary Gutting argues, in his recent book What Philosophers Know, that analytic philosophy provides a sizable collection of exemplary arguments that effectively yield a “disciplinary body of philosophical knowledge”—“metaphilosophy,” he names it—that is, specimens that define in a notably perspicuous way what we should understand as philosophical knowledge itself. He concedes weaknesses in the best‐known specimens, and he admits that, generally, even the best specimens do not provide answers to the usual grand questions. I admire his treatment of the matter but argue that the metaphilosophical issues are, normally, of a much grander gauge than that of his sort of specimen; that they require a much more open, informal sort of inquiry and exchange than that of the distinctive rigor of the classic specimens themselves; that analytic philosophy, not uncharacteristically, tends to ignore the metaphilosophical issue or takes the validity of its method of argument for granted; and that the issue itself invites an appraisal of competing second‐order conceptions of how philosophical argument proves fruitful. I proceed by way of the examination of cases drawn from Quine and Kripke.     

Towards a taxonomy of philosophical counselling

As sympathetic outsiders trying to understand and explain the field of philosophical counselling to other (perhaps not so sympathetic) outsiders, we find ourselves repeatedly asking and being asked two questions: “What is philosophical counselling?” and “What is its relationship to psychological counselling?” In seeking to develop satisfactory answers to these questions, we present a taxonomy of philosophical counselling. This fourfold taxonomy was developed by classifying the work of a range of recognised philosophical counsellors in terms of their declared ends. This taxonomy makes sense of the diversity of the field, while also recognising the underlying coherence. Moreover, the categories of the taxonomy align with existing forms of psychological counselling practice, and in this way the taxonomy enables us to pinpoint the relationship between psychological and philosophical counselling. We end with some consideration of what philosophical counsellors can learn from their colleagues in psychology, especially in relation to the role of empathy and the importance of empirical testing.     

“Explain” in scientific discourse

The philosophical literature on scientific explanation contains a striking diversity of accounts. I use novel empirical methods to address this fragmentation and assess the importance and generality of explanation in science. My evidence base is a set of 781 articles from one year of the journal Science, and I begin by applying text mining techniques to discover patterns in the usage of “explain” and other words of philosophical interest. I then use random sampling from the data set to develop and test a classification scheme for scientific explanation. My results show that explanation and inference to the best explanation are ubiquitous in science, that they occur across a wide range of scientific disciplines, and that they are a goal of scientific practise. These explanations and inferences to the best explanation come in a diversity forms, which at least partially justifies the fragmentation of philosophical accounts. I draw two methodological lessons: first that text mining can enhance traditional conceptual analysis by establishing facts about word usage; and second that random sampling of cases can increase our confidence that a philosophical account applies in general. These empirical techniques supplement traditional philosophical methods.     

How successfully can we measure well-being through measuring happiness?

Happiness is currently the topic of a wide range of empirical research, and is increasingly becoming the focus of public policy. The interest in happiness largely stems from its connection with well-being. We care about well-being – how well our lives are going for us. If we are happy it seems that, to some extent, we must be doing well. This suggests that we may be able to successfully measure well-being through measuring happiness. The problem is that both happiness and well-being are elusive and their measurement is far from uncontroversial. What exactly does information about happiness tell us about well-being? Is there more to well-being than happiness? If so, to what extent is happiness connected to well-being? These are controversial questions, but answers to them must be given if we are to make progress in the measurement of well-being. I argue that we should view happiness as an indicator of changes in well-being. I call this the Indicator View. According to this view, someone can be doing badly yet be happy insofar as their well-being is improving (and vice versa). More precisely, the Indicator View is the view that happiness is a defeasible indicator of local changes in well-being. Thus, we can successfully measure an important aspect of well-being through measuring happiness. I argue in favour of this view on the basis of an understanding of well-being that is widely acceptable. The Indicator View, therefore, has the potential to unite divided opinion over what happiness research can tell us about well-being.     

Computational explanation in neuroscience

According to some philosophers, computational explanation is proprietary to psychology—it does not belong in neuroscience. But neuroscientists routinely offer computational explanations of cognitive phenomena. In fact, computational explanation was initially imported from computability theory into the science of mind by neuroscientists, who justified this move on neurophysiological grounds. Establishing the legitimacy and importance of computational explanation in neuroscience is one thing; shedding light on it is another. I raise some philosophical questions pertaining to computational explanation and outline some promising answers that are being developed by a number of authors.     

The philosopher and the Fly Bottle

Wittgenstein said that what he does in philosophy is ‘to show the fly out of the fly bottle’ (Philosophical Investigations¶309). He is, himself, both the fly, his alter-ego, and the philosopher who turns the fly around. This is a transformation in his vision of and perspective on those matters which tempted him, through the questions it posed for him, into the bottle, there to be trapped – trapped into a form of scepticism, realism, or one of its many reductionist satellites, for instance. The transformation which releases him into the open takes philosophical work which unearths unspoken assumptions and subjects them to criticism. As for the movement into and out of the bottle, this is the philosophical journey in the course of which the philosopher comes to a new understanding of the matters he questioned in a way that led him into the bottle. To come to such a better understanding, therefore, the philosopher has to have the courage of his temptations and not be afraid to give up what he holds on to. What he learns in coming out of the bottle belongs to the work that frees him from the compelling pictures that held him captive within the space of opposed theories held together by common assumptions. It cannot be acquired or conveyed independently of such work. It is in this sense that philosophy is a struggle with difficulties which each philosopher has to face and work through himself. The difficulties are not in him, but they are his– they are difficulties for him. He has to work on them. That is why, while he can learn from others, he cannot borrow from them, build on or go on from what they have established. In the first section of the paper I put on some flesh on this. But what I provide is still a thumb-nail sketch. The question ‘what is philosophy?’ is itself a philosophical question, like any other, and can only be ‘answered’ like them. It is only that with which we are familiar – in our mastery of the language we speak or in our experience of life –that can raise philosophical questions for us. Thus contrast ‘what is knowledge?’, ‘what is thinking?’ with ‘what is cancer?’, ‘what is osmosis?’. The question ‘what is philosophy?’ similarly can only be asked by a philosopher, someone who has asked and struggled with its questions. Otherwise it is a request for information to which the full answer is: you have to study philosophy if you really want to find out. It follows that what I say about the way philosophical questions are to be answered applies equally to the question about the nature of philosophy. Hence I can do no other than provide a thumb-nail sketch for those who have themselves struggled with philosophical questions. As for what I provide in the following three sections, they are no more than illustrations of a way of working on those sample questions – questions on which hopefully the reader will have thought himself. I am able to offer such illustrations only because I have myself been caught up by these questions and have worked on them and discussed them more fully elsewhere (see Bibliography).     

Philosophical expertise beyond intuitions

In what sense, if any, are philosophers experts in their domain of research and what could philosophical expertise be? The above questions are particularly pressing given recent methodological disputes in philosophy. The so-called expertise defense recently proposed as a reply to experimental philosophers postulates that philosophers are experts qua having improved intuitions. However, this model of philosophical expertise has been challenged by studies suggesting that philosophers’ intuitions are no less prone to biases and distortions than intuitions of non-philosophers. Should we then give up on the idea that philosophers possess some sort of expertise? In this paper, I argue that instead of focusing on intuitions, we may understand the relevant results of philosophical practice more broadly and investigate the other kind(s) of expertise they would require. My proposal is inspired by a prominent approach to investigating expert performance from psychology and suggests where and how to look for expertise in the results characteristic of philosophical practice. In developing this model, I discuss the following three candidates for such results: arguments, theories, and distinctions. Whether philosophers could be shown to be expert intuiters or not, there are interesting domains where we could look for philosophical expertise, beyond intuitions.     

A philosophical examination of coercion for mental health issues

This article considers two philosophical questions about coercion and mental disorders: (1) an analytical question, i.e., what is meant by the concept of coercion? (2) a normative question, i.e., what justifies the use of coercion? The article distinguishes between coercion from other forms of power such as inducement, persuasion, and authority. It then considers a range of arguments for the paternalistic use of coercion for the benefit of mentally disordered persons and the use of coercion to restrain mentally disordered dangerous persons. This article rests on the assumption that there is something to be said for an academic division of labour, that empirical research in mental health and the law can benefit from conceptual clarification and the analysis of normative arguments. In this article I distinguish between two importantly different sorts of questions that we can ask about coercion and then offer some answers to those questions in broad strokes.