What is the value of philosophy? From the experiences of a STEM major
Anyone who has studied philosophy has likely encountered a multitude of negative reactions towards their decision. The general public who has even heard of a philosophy degree believes that it is utterly useless; it won’t get you a job, or if it does, only a very low paying one. The most memorable of such reactions I encountered in my college career was one of pure confusion — “what do you even do in philosophy, just sit in a room…and think?” I suppose this person wasn’t entirely incorrect. We do tend to sit in a room and think, but so does everyone.
What this person truly illustrated was a general lack of understanding of what philosophy even is. Ask any person on the street what they know about philosophy and you’re likely to get an answer similar to this one — “that guy Socrates was a philosopher, right?” When I first entered college, I likely would have given the same answer. The education system in America often ignores philosophy as a whole, with the exception of a hurried mention of a few philosophers in a world history class. As a result, philosophy, at best, seems like a mystical world of professors with long beards, rambling about inconsequential topics. At worst, it’s a bunch of pretentious know-it-alls, the type of people who might respond to everything you say with “well actually…”
What the word philosophy really means is quite innocent — “love of wisdom.” Although, I believe it is better understood as the quest for wisdom.
Philosophy is an activity of thought, not a passive appreciation.
When one practices philosophy, they seek to understand through logical connections.
Why then has philosophy been transformed into “crazy ramblings” and the home for those with a superiority complex? It’s in reality, not just due to the education system. It is also due to the domination of science as the primary method for analyzing the world around us. Science gives us facts; what more could we need?
This is related to a commonly addressed dilemma in philosophy referred to as the “is-ought problem.” The gist of it is this: you can’t derive what ought to be from what is. Science is all about what is; its purpose is to discover how things work, what they are, where they are. Science can reveal much about the world but what it will never reveal is this: what we are supposed to do (or not to do) with that information. Science can discern the minute genetic differences that correlate with geographical locations, ethnicities, or propensity to disease, but it will never tell us whether it’s moral to use that information for discriminatory purposes.
In fact, science can’t even tell us why science matters.
Our experiences in the world go far beyond what is empirically measurable, and those experiences are the territory of philosophy. What does it mean to know something (perhaps something science just revealed)? How do humans communicate knowledge? Why do we understand each other, even when language becomes fraught with hidden meanings and strategic intonations? These are the types of questions only philosophy appreciates. No scientific instrument will ever be created that will give you the answers.
Despite this, we value STEM fields over all others as a society, pushing humanities fields like philosophy to the background. This isn’t completely without reason. After all, the STEM fields produce the doctors that save our lives, the engineers that ensure the safety of our buildings, the biologists who create antibiotics and vaccines, and many more crucial individuals. I, myself, even majored in a STEM field — cell and molecular biology. This is usually where I lose people — “you mean you majored in a STEM field and you still chose philosophy… why?”
I’m here to tell you exactly why.
I had always loved science, but when I entered college, I found myself dissatisfied with what was taught in classes. I memorized and memorized and memorized until the exam came along, after which I promptly forgot everything I had just “learned”. I felt trapped by the conventions of the field; there was little room for creativity or debate. It’s not that I believed that this information wasn’t important, it’s that I felt as if I wasn’t understanding it as much as I was just remembering it.
This is where philosophy changed my whole outlook. In one of my early philosophy classes, the professor warned us —
“don’t try to memorize this, you won’t, and even if you do, it won’t help.”
If anything were to scare a STEM major, it would be this. For the whole of our education, memorization was the foundation for success; the more you could force your brain to absorb in a shorter time period, the better off you were. Philosophy, on the other hand, has an entirely different foundation — pure logical reasoning.
Philosophy is not about sheer memorization, it’s about forming logical connections between single points of knowledge.
You learn to approach any problem by first asking “what do I know?” Once you identify the things you know, the next task is to determine what you can infer from those things. If X is true, then what also must be true? What must be false? How do these things relate to the question I’m trying to answer? Asking these questions develops a sort of brain map; a visualization of the intricate connections between facts and how they support any conclusion.
Equally as important is that you can determine what can’t be concluded from what you know using this process. To illustrate, I’ll use a common logical proof in philosophy called modus ponens:
If P then Q (if it’s raining, then I brought my umbrella)
P (it’s raining)
Therefore, Q (therefore, I brought my umbrella)
An invalid form of this proof is called “confirming the consequent” and proceeds as follows:
If P then Q (if it’s raining, then I brought my umbrella)
Q (I brought my umbrella)
Therefore, P (therefore, it’s raining)
This invalid form showcases a common mistake in logic– what if I also bring my umbrella when it’s sunny out? This can easily be translated into something a scientist may realistically encounter —
If the patient has mutation X, then they have disease Y
The patient has disease Y
Therefore, the patient has mutation X
The patient could easily have a different causative mutation and still have disease Y, making this an invalid conclusion, and one that could have real-life consequences. Of course, many of the problems any one of us (scientist or otherwise) would encounter are more logically complex than the examples I have given. Nevertheless, it is critical to ensure that any conclusion is logical as well as to understand the connections between the facts that support it.
This was one of the most important things I learned from philosophy, and it ultimately made me a better scientist. I became far better at critical thinking; I understood the information I was being taught, rather than just remembered it. When I was faced with a question I didn’t immediately know the answer to, I stopped raking my brain for a lost memory. Instead, I slowed down and asked “what do I know?” and went from there.
Even further than just providing me with a better thought process, philosophy allowed me to reflect on science and technology itself. I was not only allowed, but encouraged, to ask questions about the impact of scientific and technological advancement. Why does science and technology matter? What weaknesses do they have? In what situations might our continued advancement be harmful to society?
In many cases, individuals in the STEM fields are taught to be constantly advancing; do it now, fix it later. They are not encouraged to pause and ask “should I do this?” This failure to question one’s actions is inherently dangerous. It can lead to situations such as the recent debacle where a Chinese scientist genetically edited a pair of twins, despite limited knowledge of the future consequences of his actions. After the fact, the scientific community condemned his actions, but he was ultimately only one data point in a pattern of irresponsibility.
As scientists, engineers, and mathematicians, we are often so buried in the minute details of our work that we fail to see the larger picture.
When we fail to reflect on our own actions, as well as the actions of others in our field, we allow for entirely preventable disasters. Philosophy gives us this power of reflection and critical thinking. It is crucial to ensuring that our progress in science and technology is marked by responsibility rather than unhindered eagerness.
Instead of “do it now, fix it later” the mantra of the STEM fields should be “ask questions first, then do it later.”
Ultimately, philosophy doesn’t offer the most plentiful job opportunities on its own; even for those who complete a PhD, full-time employment in the field can be hard to come by. However, if you ever have the good fortune to have a discussion with a philosophy professor, you will immediately recognize that it is their true passion. It is something they believe in beyond just its usefulness for earning money, and for good reason.
While most of us will not become philosophy PhDs in our lifetimes, it is without doubt that I say that it is an invaluable addition to anyone’s education and career.
Philosophy is not a world of professors discussing inconsequential topics, nor is it the land of pretentious know-it-alls (although they certainly exist as a minority, to all of our chagrin). Philosophy is very simply the quest for wisdom. It is critical thinking, logic, and careful reflection; these are things that we all can benefit from.
Moreover, the absence of these aspects of philosophical thought results in a myriad of negative consequences that echo through our everyday lives. Politics becomes defined by illogical and reactionary arguments, science and technology by ill-conceived ambition, education by memorization in place of understanding. Sound familiar? The world is already plagued by these negative consequences. Recognizing the benefit of philosophy is part of the solution.
A society that appreciates philosophy is a better informed one, a more thoughtful one, a more logical one, and a more critical one. A society that appreciates philosophy is a better society.
