Does Philosophy Suffer from a Conflict of Interest?

I've wondered about something for a while that I think might be worth discussing. Philosophers often purport to seek the truth, or at the very least, good arguments. But now consider the following scenario.  Person A publishes a paper/book on some issue that really has a knock-down argument. Person B publishes an "interesting" paper/book on the same issue, but with a bad argument. How are things likely to go in the short- and long-run?

Here's a thought: Person A is more likely to be more influential in the short-run. Their paper/book may receive some objections, then defense, etc. -- but then, since the argument is really air-tight, conversation about it will die out (people just won't have too much to say about it anymore). Person B's project, on the other hand -- given that the argument is "interesting" but has holes all over the place -- seems likely to generate really long-term interest and dicussion. Why? Simply because there's lots to say about it. People can publish all kinds of objections, defenses, attempts to interpret/patch up the bad argument, etc. In other words, over the long-run, there's just far more to do -- and careers to make -- by focusing on bad but "interesting" arguments.

Is this how philosophy tends to work? I can't help but be reminded of the following passage from Simon Blackburn's review of Davidson's Truth and Predication:

Philosophers think of themselves as the guardians of reason, intent beyond other men upon care and accuracy, on following the argument wherever it leads, spotting flaws, rejecting fallacies, insisting on standards. This is how we justify ourselves as educators, and as respectable voices within the academy, or even in public life. But there is a yawning chasm between self-image and practice, and in fact it is a great mistake to think that philosophers ever gain their followings by means of compelling arguments. The truth is the reverse, that when the historical moment is right people fall in love with the conclusions, and any blemish in the argument is quickly forgiven: the most outright fallacy becomes beatified as a bold and imaginative train of thought, obscurity actually befits a deep original exploration of dim and unfamiliar interconnexions, arguments that nobody can follow at all become a brilliant roller-coaster ride towards a shift in the vocabulary, a reformulation of the problem space. Follow the star, and the raw edges will easily be tidied up later.

Comments

[David Morrow]

I'm told that Locke's First Treatise of Government was such a knock-down argument against the divine right of kings that the doctrine just withered away and died. I wouldn't know, though, because I've never read the First Treatise. Why would you? It's (apparently) about the divine right of kings, which no one accepts anymore. Now, the Second Treatise....

[Anon87]

I think you are right that an 'air-tight' argument is given less consideration, and in the long-run does not gain much notoriety. We are taught early on that you have to attack and break down your opponent. If you right an essay that doesn't include criticism, it is considered weak. This stems from a paradigm of aggression. I still shudder to think that we, philosophers, are rarely constructive. It's often about proving yourself right, and how much smarter you are. It's easier to do this with an argument that has holes in it, and such an argument is likely to be cited more. This has been approached by some feminists, but its ideas are seldom appropriated by the wider community regarding this issue.

I will note, however, that there are two groups of philosophers which are more constructive and welcoming than others: Informal Logicians, and Feminist Theorists. In my experience they are not so preoccupied with proving how wrong you are, but rather how your work can be improved (they focus on the positives more so than the negatives). And while these groups are not perfect, as none of us are, there at least seems to be more of a constructive approach to philosophy. I always thought of academia as being a constructive enterprise, building and exchanging ideas in search of truth(and as philosophers we would maintain and embody this). Though this rarely seems to be the case.

[Marcus Arvan]

Hi David: good example. Maybe it was a mistake on my part to refer to "knock-down" arguments. You're probably right: when they do occur -- as is the case with Locke on the divine right of kings -- the fact that discussion of them withers away is a good thing (we have, in those cases, gotten at something like the truth).

Perhaps I should have expressed the worry not with "knock down" arguments but rather something like "really good" ones. My worry stems from thinking about philosophical trends over the past several decades. When I think about how trends tend to rise and fall, there often seems to me to be little rhyme or reason. It's not as though the earlier generation's arguments were *poor* (often they're quite good!); it often just seems like people *tire* of certain debates and positions, and so defend new arguments and positions that seem more "interesting." But, interesting and true are very different things.

[Roman]

Marcus--I'm not sure that "interesting" and "true" are *as* different as you say. Account C may be true (whatever that means) as an account of some phenomenon, but be overshadowed by account D, which is a worse account of a phenomenon but shows how it hangs together with other phenomena in a productive way. What makes an argument "really good" is, in part, its ability to show something interesting.

It's hard to really talk about this without examples, though. What are some examples of "true" or "really good" arguments that are ignored?

In any case, what's the conflict of interests here? That philosophers don't spend decades rehashing claims that are no longer considered controversial? That seems like a good thing: what is there to say about those claims other than to repeat them? Focusing on provocative but probably wrong claims, on the other hand, can stimulate a great deal of future thought.

Anyway, Blackburn is probably right that in practice (as opposed to self-serving professional rhetoric) the views that end up standing out the most historically are not the clearest ones or the best argued ones, but he seems to lean too hard in the direction of suggesting that views end up being thought of as bold and original *because* they are obscure. Isn't it more likely that views that actually *are* bold and original, as opposed to a rehashing of well-established views, are almost necessarily going to be obscure? (Thinking about the history of philosophy, the only one of the "greats" or semi-greats that I can think of who is almost never obscure is Mill. Anyone else?)

[Marcus Arvan]

Hi Roman: Those are all very good points. True and interesting needn't be at odds. For my part, I think the basics of Kant's moral philosophy are interesting *because* I think a strong case can be made for them being true (I'm currently in the midst of a project the aim of which is to make a simple, intuitive, down-to-earth case for its basics, which I think in turn can be used to both clarify and in some cases revise some of the more notorious and problematic features of his theory). But that is another story! ;)

Anyway, so I agree with you that something can *be* interesting because it is true or false but pointing in the direction of some deeper, true connections between different things. I guess my worry stems from a feeling that philosophers don't have a good method to distinguish between "interesting because likely to be true" and "interesting because we would *like* it to be true". I think that's the (potential) conflict that worries me. Here are just a few cases that worry me:

1. Moral relativism (which seems to me to be almost always unfairly rendered, the stock objections to almost entirely unfair, and in the end rejected because people don't like it)

2. Normative reasons internalism (which I think has unfairly gone far out of favor for similar reasons, viz. people just don't like the idea of there being no reason for psychopaths not to slit innocent people's throats).

3. Use theories of linguistic meaning

Of course, I recognize that I may be out in the wilderness on how I evaluate some of these things -- but yes, I would like to see decades more rehashing of these views! ;)

Anyway, funny that you mentioned Mill. I guess I may be out in the wilderness on this one too, but I think he's quite obscure in a number of places, including (A) his meta ethics in book III of utilitarianism, (B) his "proof" of utilitarianism in book IV, (C) his definition of "harm" in On Liberty, etc.

Thanks again for your challenging comment. My general worry about philosophy is a vague one, and I'm thankful for your exploring it with me.

[Moti Mizrahi]

Marcus: Is your worry that, contrary to what they say, philosophers are not in the business of producing solid results (i.e., seeking truth and going where the argument leads, etc.), but are rather in the business of producing discussions and/or debates?