On the Perils of Practicing Public Philosophy
By Shane Ralston
First of all, I’d like to thank Marcus for the opportunity to share with you some ideas I have about public philosophy. My name is Shane Ralston and I’m a mid-career philosopher and faculty member at Penn State University Hazleton (for more, see my professional website and/or my Academia.edu page). I am fully aware that not all of you will agree with my claims, but I hope that we can still be respectful and supportive in our disagreement (as dictated by the Cocoon community’s mission) and of course learn from each other in the process.
For the sake of clarity, let’s start with a fairly non-controversial definition of ‘public philosophy’ offered by Jack Russell Weinstein in his essay “What Does Public Philosophy Do? (Hint: It Does not Make Better Citizens)”:
In contrast to philosophy simpliciter, public philosophy denotes the act of professional philosophers engaging with non-professionals, in a non-academic setting, with the specific goals of exploring issues philosophically. In other words, public philosophy involves getting people to think about the assumptions that govern the things they do, the controversies they are immersed in, and the experiences of their day-to-day lives by looking at those aspects that are either invisible to them or taken for granted. Public philosophy and philosophy as it is usually understood are not too far apart, although their audiences differ radically. What public philosophy need not be, however, is professionalized and refined.
Weinstein claims that “[p]ublic philosophy and philosophy as it is usually understood are not too far apart,” except that “their audiences differ radically.” Doing public philosophy is different than what we do here in a friendly community of supportive (and, to at least some degree, like-minded) fellow philosophers. Public philosophy is practiced in a world that is not always friendly to liberals or intellectuals, a world where people commonly troll, harass and bully others (and, I might add, it’s probably become worse since the election of Mr. Trump).
As public philosophers, we often discover that institutional forces do not always operate in fair or rational ways. In speaking truth to power, we can become unwitting targets of retaliation. Given this danger, early-career philosophers should be wary of doing public philosophy, particularly when it jeopardizes their career and reputation. For instance, there have been an alarming number of recent incidents in which universities retaliated against professors who tweeted controversial political messages (see here, here and here). Also, professors who are outspoken in their left-leaning political activism have been added to a “Professor Watchlist” in an attempt to tarnish their reputations (see here, here and here). I’ll return to this point about the dangers that doing public philosophy poses for early-career philosophers.
I want to say a bit about what I call the ‘romanticization of public philosophy’ narrative. Those who are heavily invested in public philosophy and its success tend to present an idealized picture of the activity as well as an inflated estimate of its worth (for examples of this, see my paper “Living Dangerously by Doing Public Philosophy”). The romanticization narrative is a great recruiting tool. It’s likely one reason why increasing numbers of philosophers have decided to practice public philosophy by writing newspaper Op-Ed pieces, contributing to online issues forums and participating in other forms of activism. Just look at the popularity of the New York Times’ section The Stone, described as “a forum for contemporary philosophers and other thinkers on issues both timely and timeless.” In doing public philosophy, we also have plenty of philosophical heroes to look to as role models—for instance, Jean-Paul Sartre and John Dewey. Imagine the notoriety that could be gained as a public intellectual! The American Philosophical Association (APA) has also jumped on the bandwagon, organizing a Committee on Public Philosophy (in full disclosure, I was a member from 2013-15) and hosting a special meeting on the opportunities and challenges of practicing public philosophy (the 2010 meeting report is available here).
What the romanticization narrative whitewashes is the dangerous reality of doing public philosophy. As Weinstein writes, “public philosophy need not be … professionalized and refined.” Public philosophers are often criticized, bullied, harassed and even threatened and, unfortunately, some respond in kind when communicating their ideas in the public sphere. Trying to sanitize public philosophy or create safe spaces in which to practice it in a civil manner usually prove fruitless. The world outside the Ivory Tower is just too messy and unmanageable. But that hasn’t stopped the APA from trying to impose their will. A few months after George Yancy received death threats from some readers of his New York Times essay “Dear White America,” the APA and its Committee on Public Philosophy released a statement on bullying and harassment. Brian Leiter objected to it. I criticized it. Many defended it. In a nutshell, my criticism was that even hateful speech has a place in public discourse (in fact, it’s protected by the First Amendment), and if we public philosophers want to participate in that discourse, then we have to co-exist with the trolls, harassers, bigots and other hate-mongers, argue against them and hope that truth and justice, not hate and intolerance, prevail.
Debate in non-academic forums resembles what Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., called a “marketplace of ideas,” where even the most repellant faiths fight for supremacy, not a well-pruned garden, where only the politically correct ideas are permitted to gain entry and bloom. Perhaps Richard Posner was right when he wrote that we academics tend to model all dialogue within a democracy after an “academic seminar” (see his essay “Smooth Sailing”). Public speech forums are nothing like academic seminars or even sessions within academic conferences—however much we would like them to be. They are also unlike the supportive community we have here at the Cocoon. They are not safe spaces.
When public discourse sinks to the level of making threats of physical harm, then we have entered upon new territory. I received death threats when two of my essays about the Sandusky scandal and Penn State Truthers were published online (see here and here). Though I decided to ignore them, I would have been within my rights to call the police and report the threats. But I could do nothing about hateful speech in the comments section of these articles, except respond with more speech. I also suffered serious professional costs I cannot describe here when I exposed a cheating scandal involving Penn State and some institutions it has connections to (see here and here).
So, my point is that doing public philosophy can be a perilous activity. For early career philosophers, it’s made even more dangerous by not having the protection of tenure. When I served on the APA Committee on Public Philosophy, one of my favorite responsibilities was refereeing submissions for an Op-Ed contest the committee sponsored. What I enjoyed most about judging the contest was reading some amazing pieces of public philosophy. Most of the Op-Eds made philosophical ideas more accessible to a lay audience. Their authors composed sophisticated and cogent arguments rarely seen in the mainstream media. I was also impressed by the courage with which these philosophers put themselves and their work out there for public criticism. While judges were not permitted to read responses to the Op-Eds, I could imagine that some readers were not too impressed. Comments on many of these articles were likely filled with personal attacks, ridicule, bigotry, hatred and anti-intellectual rants. But these are the dangers of doing public philosophy, dangers that are unfortunately so common nowadays that we should, as public philosophers, come to expect them.
Telling intolerant consumers of public philosophy or so-called ‘trolls’ (some of whom could even be fellow philosophers posting to a site anonymously) to “cease and desist” (which the APA does in its statement on bullying and harassment) accomplishes little to nothing. Also, telling public philosophers not to lower themselves to the level of bigots, bullies and harassers when debating in these public forums is equally pointless. That’s not to say that in an ideal world we shouldn’t all be more civil and less hateful. But we do not practice public philosophy in an ideal world, do we?
Again, I’m not arguing that threats of physical harm are excusable or should be tolerated. They warrant police involvement. Also, I’m not claiming that all early career philosophers should abstain from practicing public philosophy. Instead, as a prudential matter, the costs associated with its dangers (e.g. losing one’s job or reputation) should be weighed against the activity’s potential benefits. Early career philosophers might also acknowledge the inaccuracy of the romanticization narrative and the pointlessness of efforts, such as the APA’s, to sanitize public philosophy or create safe spaces in which to practice it.
Hi Shane,
Thank you so much for this! Interesting stuff that I hadn't thought about, and as an untenured prof, probably should have.
One question though: Could you say more about your mostly passing remark about public philosophy's (in)effectiveness? Is there good reason to believe that its relatively ineffective, or is it just that there isn't good reason to think that it is effective? And if the former, what are the reasons?
Posted by: Preston | 12/06/2016 at 01:43 PM
Hi Preston,
Thanks for your comment and questions. My claim is that many proponents of public philosophy, wishing to perpetuate the romanticization narrative, tend to offer inflated estimates of public philosophy's worth (examples can be found in the 2010 APA Practicing Public Philosophy meeting report). Of course, whether its worth is truly inflated depends on what we want pubic philosophy to accomplish (and so have its worth measured relative to), for instance, (i) to clarify an issue or belief, (ii) to solve a problem, (iii) to expose the truth, (iv) to change the status quo, etc. In my paper "Living Dangerously by Doing Public Philosophy," I give the example of Walter Lippmann, who observed that the policy environment is so complex as to be inscrutable to all but the very few experts. The question is whether the public philosopher can serve as a kind of liaison officer, clarifying complex policy issues (e.g. global climate change or big data surveillance) so that they are understandable to non-experts. This demands some translation work, converting the language of the expert into the language of the layperson. Of course, we philosophers have our own expertise and a vocabulary that's not always accessible to non-philosophers. So the same goes for inserting philosophical concepts into public discourse. Sometimes the public philosopher has to simplify things. Still, it's debatable whether philosophers are the best positioned to assume this liaison officer role. Journalists might be better at it. As far as solving problems, except for very small and manageable ones, this is probably too much to ask of the public philosopher. In his recent book on Jean-Paul Sartre's public intellectualism (The Existentialist Moment), Patrick Baert argues that Sartre's popular existentialist writings (e.g. Existentialism is a Humanism) offered the French people a way of making sense of the trauma of German occupation in the years after WWII. So perhaps public philosophy can solve some problems, but it's in all likelihood a rare phenomenon. A lot of my recent work has resembled whistleblowing, exposing the truth about the agendas of certain organizations and the individuals who seek to promote them. This is probably the most dangerous kind of public philosophy, since it opens up the public philosopher to retaliation. To be effective, it requires a lot of research and patience (note: I spent about a month straight filing Freedom of Information requests for one article). As to whether public philosophy is effective at changing the status quo, I'm not exactly sure. So far, I'm skeptical. I've seen little evidence to support claims of public philosophy's effectiveness as tool of reform. Thanks again for your comment and questions.
Posted by: Shane Ralston | 12/06/2016 at 05:17 PM
Thanks again, Shane.
One more question, if you don't mind (but if you do, that's ok too): Given your skepticism--and I have no reason to question that, since you're very experienced in the area of public philosophy--why go on? As you said, its a lot of work and opens you up to retaliation in various forms.
I'm not naive enough to think that I could go into public philosophy and single-handedly effect policy, but on the other hand, if I didn't think I could make anyone more informed or better at thinking critically, I think I'd feel far too deflated to want to make any effort, and I'd just retreat to my abstract philosophical problems. That's not to say that its philosophical activism or nothing. There are a lot of other ways of taking political action. I guess I'm just wondering: If I'm interested in effectiveness alone, is there anything qua philosopher as opposed to qua warm body that I can contribute to public change?
Posted by: Preston | 12/07/2016 at 07:05 AM
Preston,
Petitions are one tool for philosophers and other groups of intellectuals to effect social change. Start one, sign one, spread the word about one, etc. I have two projects, one that involves combating public corruption in higher ed and another about protecting child welfare through better state regulation of daycare businesses, both of which I would like to continue pursuing. The difficulty is that they require lawyers and resources beyond my limited means. So I am currently trying to partner with organizations that can help me with these projects. But it's slow going. I think the examples of Jean-Paul Sartre and John Dewey, both of whom were very effective public philosophers/intellectuals, give me (and perhaps others as well) hope that doing public philosophy can effect policy change or contribute, even in small ways, to improving the status quo. I'm skeptical, but I haven't entirely given up hope. Still, I see your point: If public philosophy is hopelessly ineffective, then the question remains, why would anyone be motivated to do it in the first place? Personally, I've grown tired of abstruse philosophical inquiries and publishing in journals few people read. So I'd prefer to write about more relevant issues and have my writings appear in places where more people will read and criticize them. And I fully accept the risks. But I realize that not everyone shares my preference.
Posted by: Shane Ralston | 12/07/2016 at 10:01 AM
I'd also like to call attention to Eric T. Weber's recent blog post on this same topic (and I believe there will be a follow-up post, so check back for part 2):
http://ericthomasweber.org/the-risks-of-public-engagement-part-i/
Eric served as the chair of the APA Committee on Public Philosophy. He's been more active than I have in terms of practicing public philosophy, especially when he was a faculty member at the University of Mississippi.
He also tells some horror stories about the dangers of doing public philosophy. But he's more sanguine than I am about the rewards outweighing the risks.
Eric offers an impassioned defense of public philosophy. To quote:
"If we are going to mean what we do in love of wisdom, we must do so with our greatest hopes in mind. It isn’t that we should believe that they will be achieved. The point is that if we don’t try, we choose to be doomed to follow ignorance and injustice.
Now we have the greatest need I have witnessed in my lifetime to engage publicly in reasoned, vigorous debate about what is right. There will be risks to doing so. Socrates was killed. It is incredibly unlikely that philosophy professors today could face such risks, but it is not impossible. This is all the more reason why it is important to mean it when we say with Socrates that 'the unexamined life is not worth living.'"
Preston: Eric's post probably answers your question (given the excessive dangers and small payoff, why practice public philosophy?) better than I have.
Does Eric's defense of public philosophy contribute to the romanticization narrative? He offers an honest appraisal of the associated risks, so my sense is that it does not. But I'll let you be the judge.
Posted by: Shane Ralston | 12/07/2016 at 12:29 PM
Shane,
Thanks for your thoughtful post.
I wonder if you could say more about what makes the kinds of projects you've mentioned here in the comments distinctly philosophical. What makes philosophers, as opposed to economists, historians, journalists, political scientists, etc well placed to inform the public about the complexities of public policy? What is the distinctively philosophical element of combating public corruption or protecting child welfare? In short: why think of these as example of public philosophy, rather than simply as engaged (or perhaps intellectually engaged) citizenship? (Apologies if this is already answered in your linked article "Living Dangerously..." which is now on my to-do list).
Finally, while there is a lot of wisdom in your practical advice about the dangers and limits of such public engagement, I find it surprising that you include trolling, harassment, and other forms of uncivil discourse under the idea of a "marketplace of ideas."
Retailers and manufacturers in the marketplace typically do not have to worry about competitors standing in front of their stores or factories yelling insults, posting anonymous threats to their place of business, or other forms of harassment. And when something like that does happen (e.g. picketing workers or boycotting protesters) it is typically seen (and intended) as a disruption of the usual practice of commerce, rather than a usual feature of a marketplace.
Posted by: Derek Bowman | 12/07/2016 at 01:02 PM
Thanks for this post, Shane. I thought it was both thought-provoking and even-handed.
Posted by: Jerry Green | 12/09/2016 at 07:23 PM