"That's silly", you're probably thinking, "we are taking this course because we don't know what philosophy is, so how do you expect us to answer such a fundamental question at the very beginning of the first day?"

Trust me. Taking just ten or fifteen minutes here at the outset to attempt to answer this question will give us a very good start on understanding what philosophy is. Now, if your mind is blank, try thinking about what we are doing right now. What is it about what we are doing right now that is different from what is done in other academic subjects?

Students. Hmm.

Come on, who wants to be first? Don't be shy.... You know, the first time I ever taught this course, the first person who tried to answer this question ended up earning an "A"! Now, who would like to be first?

Student A. "Thinking. We are thinking. Is philosophy about thinking?"

Yes. This is indeed a central part of the philosopher's task. By the way, the second time I taught this course, the first person who tried to answer this question ended up with a "D" so don't expect an easy "A"! In fact, we often think in ways that could not really be called "philosophical". So, how does philosophical thinking differ from other types of thinking?

Student B. "It is abstract. There are no definite answers. Everyone has their own idea about philosophical issues, and nobody can claim to have the absolute truth."

This is a very common idea. Many philosophical arguments are indeed abstract, but isn't it also true that philosophy is sometimes very concrete and practical as well? Actually, I prefer to say there are too many definite answers to most philosophical questions. But however we choose to express ourselves, you have hit upon a characteristic of philosophical issues which makes them different from most other intellectual pursuits. No matter how many times a question is answered, it seems like there is always something which remains mysterious. This makes philosophy, at first sight anyway, quite different from science.

But let's continue observing what we are doing right now, and try to get more clues as to the nature of philosophy. Some philosophers have said that in philosophy, as in life itself, "we are building the boat in which we are floating." So, what then are we--yes?

Student C. "Questions and answers. Does philosophy have something to do with questions and answers?"

Certainly. In fact, it is possible to distinguish between different branches of philosophy, and even between different schools of philosophy, by noting the different types of questions which are asked. But, once again, all academic disciplines inevitably involve questions and answers. So what makes philosophical questions different from other types? What am I trying to do right now by asking you to think about this question: "What is philosophy?" Why wasn't I satisfied with a simple answer, like "philosophy is thinking"?

Student D. "Because you're trying to get us to see beneath the surface of things. Everyone knows that philosophers think a lot, but you are trying to encourage us to see a deeper meaning."

Exactly. The reason why the questions asked in most other academic disciplines can be answered more definitely is because non-philosophical answers are usually concerned only with the surface of a thing. Philosophers, good philosophers, at least, are not satisfied until they have explored the furthest depths of the question they are asking themselves. Sometimes, in fact, the reason why philosophical ideas are difficult to understand is not that they are too abstract, too far removed from our everyday life, but that they are too concrete! Sometimes philosophy touches so deeply on familiar things that we fail to understand because the subject is too close to home. Have you ever tried to look at your right eye with your left eye?

Student E. "Could you give us an example of a philosophical question?"

I'll do better than that. I will give you four examples of questions that good philosophers ask. At the same time this will introduce you to what I believe to be the four main divisions in the field of philosophy. The first two divisions are both theoretical. The first is metaphysics, and the question which defines the task of metaphysics is "What is ultimate reality?" Examining various answers to this question will be our task in Part One of this course. The second division is logic, whose defining question could be expressed as "How do we understand the meaning of words?"

The last two divisions are both practical. The third could be called "applied philosophy". Now the application of meaningful words should lead to knowledge, and the English word "science" comes from the Latin word sciens, which means "knowing"; so we can call this third division science, provided that we remember that we are not using this word in the same way it is normally used in everyday language. The question of this philosophical sort of science is "Where is the proper boundary line between knowledge and ignorance?". The fourth division is ontology, which asks the question "Why does something (or anything) exist?" By asking and answering ontological questions, philosophers hope to improve our understanding of the essential characteristics of distinct types of things (e.g., animals, man, or God), or of types of experiences (e.g., beauty, love, or death).

In this course we will have the opportunity to consider each of these questions in turn, so it might be helpful to see their relationship to each other as a whole. One of my favorite teaching aids, as you will soon discover, is to use diagrams especially crosses, triangles, and circles in order to express the ideas we are discussing in a simplified, but systematic, form. In Part Two we will examine the logical basis on which such diagrams are constructed. But for now we can just treat them as an easy way of seeing the relationships between sets of terms. Let's use a cross as a kind of "map" for our course by plotting the four branches of philosophy onto its four end points, as shown in Figure 1.1. We will, of course, ask many other philosophical questions during this course, but these four deserve to be regarded as fundamental.

Student F. "At several points today you have referred to 'good philosophers'. This sounds rather pious. Do you mean to imply that there are some 'bad philosophers'? What gives you the right to judge whether or not another person's ideas are good or bad? After all, everyone has a right to their own opinion!"

True. But the difference between good and bad philosophers has nothing to do with "opinion". It has to do with reasons. Reason gives all of us the ability to distinguish between good and bad, although making this distinction need not involve an attitude of condemnation. So I would say: yes, there are some bad philosophers. In fact, it seems to me that all too often the bad ones unfortunately outnumber the good ones. So don't be surprised if you hear me speaking in this way throughout this course. But again, I hope you won't take offence. The words "bad" and "good" here are not intended as moral judgments. Instead, for me these terms refer to philosophers who see the task of philosophy in a balanced way as opposed to those who believe philosophy has either a very narrow or a very broad scope of proper interest. Let me explain more fully what I mean by this distinction.

[Figure 1.1: Four Branches of Philosophy]

There are three ways of understanding the task of philosophy. The first views philosophy as the task of using logical thinking to solve difficult problems by clarifying our concepts. In twentieth century western philosophy, the school of "analytic philosophy", which in one form or another has dominated the English speaking world for most of this century, typically adopts this notion as its hallmark. Analytic philosophers tend to regard philosophy as a specialized kind of scientific profession, sometimes explicitly rejecting the notion that it should be closely related to our daily life.

The second type of philosophy takes the opposite approach, by viewing philosophy as a way of life, so that the philosophic task focuses on understanding the nature and purpose of human existence in all its complexity. In twentieth century western philosophy, the school of "existentialism", which in one form or another has dominated the non-English speaking world for most of this century, typically adopts this notion as its hallmark. Existentialist philosophers tend to regard philosophy as a general discipline including almost anything that can help us live a truer, or more "authentic" life; but in the process their accounts of what such a life involves are often so obscure that the average reader has considerable difficulty understanding what it's all about.

The third type of philosopher recognizes that both of the above two notions are necessary for a proper conception of the philosophic task. A good philosopher follows this third way, by insisting that the goal of clarifying concepts is to point towards a certain way of life, and that the account of this way of life must be expressed clearly and must avoid the many obscurities into which such accounts often fall. For a philosophy which is not viewed as a way of life begins to look more like a technical science. And a philosophy which does not require a rigorous attempt to clarify concepts begins to look more like a mystical religion. But philosophy, at least good philosophy, is neither a science nor a religion, but a unique discipline which exists, as it were, on the boundary line between these two. Hence we can picture the relationships between these three types of philosophy by mapping them onto a simple triangle, as follows:

[Figure 1.2: Three Types of Philosophy]

By the way, there are probably just as many (or few!) "good" analytic philosophers as there are "good" existential philosophers. A good analytic philosopher is one who can clarify language without losing sight of the ultimate aim of learning to live a better life. By contrast, a good existentialist philosopher is one who can direct our attention to this ultimate aim without merely obscuring the truth by using unclear or misleading language.

But perhaps the best approach is to see philosophy as not rooted primarily in either of these two tasks on its own, but as necessarily holding both in balance.

The hour is drawing to a close now, but we have time for one more suggestion as to how we can answer our main question. I wonder if there is anyone who has a different sort of answer from the ones we have been considering so far. For philosophy is many things, and we have really only scratched the surface of possible answers.

Student G. "I've always thought philosophy has something to do with wonder."

What sort of wonder? Do you mean just looking up at the sky and daydreaming? Or do you have in mind something like Alice in Wonderland?

Student G. "No. I was thinking of wondering as a kind of curiosity about the truth. Aren't philosophers interested in trying to find out why things are the way they are?"

Indeed they are! In fact, the word "philosophy" itself comes from two Greek words which mean "love" (phileo) and "wisdom" (sophia). So philosophy refers quite literally to a relentless search for the truth and for its proper application to our lives. And this search must be fueled by the fire of "wonder", just as you have suggested. I was not joking, by the way, when I referred to Alice; her story is full of interesting philosophical ideas!

Well, we have obviously not yet finished answering our question. Indeed, the question "What is philosophy?" should be kept at the back of our minds throughout the entirety of this course. If we were able to answer it completely today, then we could all quit here and the remaining twenty-seven lectures would be redundant. But this is far from being the case. Instead, I want to suggest to you that by the end of this course you will (hopefully) know less about philosophy than you did before you came to class today!

I say that because, as we shall see, philosophy actually begins with the recognition of ignorance. The reason for beginning an introductory course by studying metaphysics is precisely because metaphysics can teach us the difference between what we can and cannot know. Only when we have learned this will we be prepared to learn from logic how we go about gaining an understanding of words. In particular, logic should teach us the difference between what words mean when they refer to something we can know about, and what they mean when they refer to something of which we are necessarily ignorant. Once we have this theoretical foundation to build on, we can apply our new understanding in practical ways. We do this by reaching out for truth and knowledge which is relevant to human life, and this search for a true "science" is properly called the love of wisdom. By loving wisdom we can enter into the fourth stage of the philosophical task without being "lost in wonderland", so to speak. For the final task is to learn truly to appreciate the wonder of silence. In a sense, all philosophy begins with silent wonder. Yet, as we shall see in Part Four of this course, it ends in silent wonder as well.

This gives us plenty to think about for the first lesson. I'll conclude simply by adding that the four tasks I've just described correspond exactly to the four "branches" of philosophy listed in Figure 1.1 , and can be mapped onto the same cross, as follows:

[Figure 1.3: The Four Goals of Doing Philosophy]

Each is best regarded as a never-ending task, rather than as a requirement that must be completely met before going on to the next stage. For this reason, we can think of them as the complementary goals we should set for ourselves at each stage of studying philosophy.

2. What is a question, and why are they so important in philosophy?

3. How is a philosopher different from a person who has some philosophical ideas?

4. How is philosophy like a tree?

RECOMMENDED READINGS

1. Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree (New York: Harper & Row, 1964).

2. William H. Halverson, A Concise Introduction to Philosophy3 (New York: Random House, 1976), Chapter One, "The Study of Philosophy", pp.3-8.

3. Mark B. Woodhouse, A Preface to Philosophy (Belmont, Ca.: Wadsworth Publishing, 1975).

4. Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland (New York: W.W. Norton, 1971).