A Nobel Prize for Philosophy?

Obviously, the Berggruen Institute thinks that there should be at least a noble Prize for Philosophy (read more here). The Nobel Prize for literature has included a number of literary luminaries, like Bertrand Russell and Albert Camus. Both are unarguably exquisite writers who have touched people with profound emotion and eloquent thought. They have reached through language into the hearts and minds of readers. But the reality within literature is always in question, even while it asserts very true things. Philosophy characteristically does not leave room for the question of whether it should be impactful on the real world — the world outside the text. It makes propositions and offers up an argument to consume or rebuke.

Art often bears the question: Is a piece observation or a performative? We can agree as members of language tribes that, by merit of its communicative form, art aspires to communicate, if for nothing more than to share a human experience. It gives insight into otherwise unseen landscapes. It assuages loneliness in some cases and builds bridges in others. Sometimes it is nothing more than disposable romantic entertainment and helicopter chases to aid us in escape from our mundane lives. Literature can lead us to empathetically understand values, one another or our society. But, the value and appreciation of literature does not depend on the efficacy it has to change the world or people. Philosophy is different. It aspires in its creation to inform who we are and shape our personal and shared worlds.

So it is that literature and philosophy are both the emergent technologies of language. Like all language, they bridge understanding. While some literature may contain philosophy, philosophy is bold enough to declare its ambition to participate in conjoining insights and constructing truth. It leads by reason where literature may lead with the heart.

All this was written with words. Words are negotiable. Their meanings are dependent on who you are reading this and where and all the why’s. Words strive for understanding. And I wonder what you, the reader, are thinking right now as we are in the process of being “full human agents, capable of understanding ourselves.” I would like to know. Are we becoming more human with every word? Are we born into a fixed identity or are we, as Taylor philosophizes, in a process of becoming by finding identity through expression and dialogue?

It seems like a simple question. But is it? Are we genetic? Predetermined by reincarnated souls? Are we an inherited mosaic of our environment? Or are we free to self-determine? Are we able to be influenced and changed? Can we find understanding between the differences?