Category: Sage Advice

From the Mail: What is a Degree in Philosophy Worth?

This just over the transom:

My name is Bryce. I am a freshman uni student, studying philosophy. I have a question I believe you are well-suited to answer, considering your vast life experience and knowledge in philosophy; is it worth it to get a college degree in philosophy?

I am academically unaffiliated by choice, having resigned from a tenured position at a university.  So I am not an outsider to academic philosophy, but neither do I have a vested interest in recruiting philosophy majors.  So I am in a position to be objective.  But I advise you to solicit opinions from a variety of people both in and out of academic philosophy.  I have enabled Comments for this post in the off-chance that some readers will offer you some helpful suggestions.

If you are asking whether it is economically worthwhile to pursue an undergraduate degree in philosophy, then my answer is that it is probably not unless you have in mind to study law or journalism.  In that case the philosophy training could be very useful assuming that you are studying in a department that is analytically as opposed to Continentally oriented.  But studying philosophy as preparation for L-school or J-school  or some other professional school would not be a reason to study philosophy as opposed to economics or political science, say.  Of course, you might have an interest in the foundations of the law and so study philosophy of law as an undergraduate in preparation for law school. 

If you have an all-consuming passion for philosophy and are really good at it, then you might consider going into academe to make your living from philosophy. But this is a long shot.  Good tenure-track positions are hard to find, competition for them is ferocious, and the market can be expected to worsen.  And I presume that you would not want to end up an academic gypsy traipsing from one one-year position to the next or end up an adjunct  teaching 12 courses per year for slave wages at a community college in [insert name of least desirable locale]. 

So, from a purely economic point of view, you ought not major in philosophy — or in English or in Women's Studies, or . . . .  This is especially the case nowadays when the cost of a college education is vastly in excess of the value of what one gets for the money and many assume onerous debt to finance it.  By and large, the old adage holds: "Philosophy bakes no bread."  There is no money in it, nor, in my opinion, should there be: the lack of earning potential tends to keep out those with the wrong motivations.

The other side of the issue, of course, is that "Man does not live by bread alone," this New Testament verse being my stock response to those who say that "Philosophy bakes no bread."  Surely it is only the stunted mortal who views everything in economic terms. Philosophy is a magnificent and noble thing and the best have always pursued it for its own sake as part of a spiritual and intellectual quest for ultimate understanding, wisdom, and true happiness.  In my opinion, philosophy is the highest quest a human can embark upon.  The life of the philosopher is the highest life possible to a mortal.  But be aware that what I just wrote will be violently contested by many.  (Their contesting, however, is just more philosophy in the guise of anti-philosophy.)

And this leads me to a final suggestion.  If you agree with the spirit of the preceding paragraph and want to study philosophy for its own sake, then you might consider double-majoring in something 'practical' such as Information Technology so as to have a latter-day equivalent of lense-grinding by which to support yourself.  (The allusion is to Baruch Spinoza, patron saint of maverick philosophers, who was academically unaffiliated by choice and who supported himself by grinding optical lenses.)

In the Interests of Prandial Harmony

Some of you will be at table with relatives today. Experientia docet: Occasions of putative conviviality can easily degenerate into nastiness. A prophylactic to consider is the avoidance of all talk of politics and religion. But to paraphrase G. K. Chesterton, What else is there to talk about? An exaggeration, no doubt, but God and Man in relation to the State does cover a lot of ground.

On Accomplishing Non-Accomplishment

Successfully resisting the hyperkineticism of one's society, saying No to it by  flânerie, studiousness, otium liberale, traipsing over mountain trails at sunrise and whatnot — this too is a sort of accomplishment.  You have to work at it a bit.  Part of the work is divesting oneself of the expectations of others and resisting their and the larger society's suggestions.  Eradicating one's suggestibility is actually a life-long task, and none too easy.

The world's a vast project of often useless neg-otiation. There is need of those who will 'otiate' it, enjoying "leisure with a good conscience" to cop a phrase from Nietzsche, that untimely saunterer.  Slow down! You'll get to your grave soon enough.  Why rush?  Is the universe in a rush to get somewhere?  Are you any less cosmic, you microcosm?

Louis Lavelle on the Stoic Wisdom and its Limitations

I am a lover of the Stoics. Why waste time on New Age hucksters when one can read Epictetus, Seneca, and Marcus Aurelius? But while the Stoics can take us a good stretch down the road to wisdom, they cannot bring us to the end — a fact long appreciated by first-rate minds. In late antiquity, Aurelius Augustinus offered a critique of the Stoics in Book XIX, Chapter 4 of The City of God, a critique worthy of being called classical. We will have to examine that critique one of these days. But today I want to draw your attention to some passages from Chapter 10, Section 4 of Louis Lavelle's The Dilemma of Narcissus (Allen & Unwin, 1973, tr. Gairdner):

The Stoics claimed that happiness depends on accurately distinguishing between the things which depend on us and those which do not. Govern the former by reason, and ignore the latter — this was their principle of supreme wisdom, to the practice of which our will should be unceasingly applied.

But hiding behind this apparent humility there is the spirit of sovereign pride and contempt, contempt for all those things which do not depend on us but of which our life is nevertheless composed, and with which it is inextricably entwined. It is impossible to assert that we can remain indifferent to them . . . . (p. 154)

There are things that are in our power, and things that are not. The flood that sweeps away my house is not in my power; but my response to the flood is. I can make myself miserable by blaming other people, from the president down; or I can limit my suffering by taking control of my own mind. Your insulting me is not in my power; but whether or not I let it affect me is in my power. And so on.

The Stoics had a very important insight into the mind's power to regulate itself. When you really understand their point it can come as quite a revelation. I was once thinking of a dead relative and how he had wronged me. I began to succumb to negative thoughts, but caught myself and suddenly realized that I am doing it. In other words, I am allowing these negative thoughts to arise and I have the power to blot them out. The incident was years in the past, and the malefactor was long dead. So the present perturbatio mentis was entirely my own creation. My sudden realization of this — aided no doubt by my reading of Stoic and other wisdom literature — caused it to vanish.

In short, the Stoics discerned the mind's amazing power to regulate itself and master, rather than be mastered by, its thoughts. They saw that, within certain limits, we create our own reality. Within limits, we can make ourselves miserable and we can make ourselves blessed. There is an inner citadel into which one can retreat, and where a very real peace can be enjoyed — assuming that one is willing to practice, rather than merely read about, the Stoic precepts.

What Lavelle sees, however, is that Stoic practices take one only so far along the road to happiness. He sees that Stoicism cannot be a final solution since it rests on a denial of our finitude. In theistic terms, it rests on a denial of our createdness. (A materialist could perhaps agree with my general point by substituting material conditionedness for createdness.)

My creaturely finitude is reflected in the fact that I have no control over either my existence or my essence (nature). Thus it was little more than existentialist braggadocio and romantic posturing when the early Sartre in "Existentialism is a Humanism" (1946) claimed that "existence precedes essence" in a sense to deny that there is any pre-given human nature, and that "Man is nothing else but that which he makes of himself."

The truth is that we have a nature whether created by God or 'created' by material forces, and this nature prescribes limits to our freedom. As prescribing limits to our freedom, our nature is not within the control of our freedom. We cannot lift ourselves into an enduring happiness by our own bootstraps. We are held hostage by a physical world that is not our making and not in our control, except superficially. Tranquillitas animi is a wonderful thing, and partially attainable by Stoic and cognate methods; but it can't be worth that much if a stomach cramp or a buzzing fly can interrupt it. I can to a certain extent identify with the hegemonikon or guiding element within me which stands above the fray, observing it. I am that ruling element, that transcendental witness. But I am also this indigent body, this wholly exposed mass of frailties. And try as I might, I cannot dissociate myself from it. The ideal of the Sage who negotiates with perfect equanimity fortune and misfortune alike is unattainable by us. In the end, the precepts and practices of Stoicism leave us in the lurch.

We cannot save ourselves via the path of political activism as many 20th century Communists learned the hard way. But a wholly self-reliant quietism is also a dead-end. We cannot be lamps unto ourselves. If salvation is to be had, it must come from Elsewhere. Nur ein Gott kann uns retten, "Only a God can save us," as Heidegger said in his Spiegel-interview near the end of his life.

Advice for the Oversensitive

Baltasar Gracian (1601-1658), The Art of Worldly Wisdom (Doubleday, 1992, tr. C. Maurer, # 173):

Don't be made of glass in your dealings with others. Even less so in friendship. Some people break very easily revealing how fragile they are. They fill up with resentment and fill others with annoyance. They are more sensitive than the pupils of the eyes, which cannot be touched, either in jest or in earnest. They take offense at motes: beams aren't even necessary. Those who deal with them must use great caution, and never forget their delicacy. The slightest slight annoys them. They are full of themselves, slaves to their own taste (for the sake of which they trample on everything else), and idolaters of their own silly sense of honor.

On Budgets

I have never made a budget in my life. Never having made one, I have never had to adhere to one. The budgeter is involved in a negative enterprise: he essays to control and curtail spending. He allocates so much money for this, and so much for that, and strives to stick to his limits. But positive methods are often superior to negative ones. If you want to lose weight, for example, it is better to exercise and burn more calories, while holding your caloric intake constant, than to eat less while holding steady on caloric expenditure. (Aside from the optimal course which is to do both at the same time.) Part of the reason for this is that it is harder to break an old habit than to begin a new one.

Similarly with budgeting. To budget is to approach your personal finances negatively when a positive approach is superior. Instead of setting limits to spending in various categories, specify target savings and investing amounts, and aim high. The Wealthy Barber has a chapter entitled "The Ten Percent Solution." As I recall, the author recommends investing 10% of gross income for long-term growth. That's chickenfeed to my conservative mind. We save and invest far more than this.  The best way to do this, of course, is by automatic payroll deduction. You arrange for your employer to direct deposit some percentage of your income into the account of your choice. You then live on what is left over. 

Why do you need a budget? If you are self-disciplined you will naturally watch your spending, and of course you will never ever use a credit card for its credit feature. You will use it only for its float, record-keeping, rebate, and convenience features. Allow me to brag so as to make a point that is very important for everyone. I have never paid a cent of credit card interest in my life, and in the last several years, each year I have received $300- $400  cash in rebates for the use of a couple of cards which charge me no fee for their use. The credit lines are huge but I go nowhere near them, and the interest rates I could not care less about. Not only that, but the 'float' makes me even more money. Let's say I have the use of $2,000 for six weeks. During that period the goods are in my possession but the money is at my disposal in a cash reserve account earning interest.

Suppose you are a leftie who hates 'corporate America.' What better way to stick it to the credit card companies than by becoming a free-rider?

So I ask again, why do you need a budget? If you are self-disciplined you will naturally watch your spending, and if you are not self-disciplined then you will lack the discipline to adhere to your budget.  Or is this a false alternative?

When I was a graduate student, 'back in the day,' I lived on 2-3 K per annum. And then I got a job which paid for starters the princely sum of 12 K per annum. I said to myself: "Surely, I can save and invest half of that!" But attitude is everthing. Attitude and will and good judgment. For example, if you are inclined to become financially independent, then you would be a fool to marry someone whose idea of Nirvana is a wallet full of charge cards with unlimited credit lines.

The moral side of the economic problem is paramount to a conservative like me. Those who can deny themselves and defer gratification can become financially well-off in a stable political and economic
environment such as we enjoy in these United States. But of course people will not deny themselves and defer gratification. So they must suffer the consequences. The problem is akrasia, weakness of the will. The fundamental problem is not predatory credit card companies, subprime mortgage scammers, and the payday loan sharks. For if you are self-disciplined, cautious, and diligent, they will not be able to get a handle on you.

The Vital Imperative: Live Well, Live Now

Wtc1 This is it. This is your life, right here and right now. The present is as real as it gets. If you are not doing with your life right now what you think you ought to be doing with it, then you are doing something wrong.

After the 2001 attack on the World Trade Towers, The New York Times published short pieces on those who had perished. The story of one fellow in particular remains in memory. He was a bond trader whose  office was high up in one of the towers. A man in his late thirties, early forties, his dream was to live in a small town in the Rockies and operate a bait and tackle shop. But first he had to earn his grubstake, or so he thought. So he slaved away in the certain present for an uncertain future. He did what he did not love so that he might do what he did love. He did what he did not love for a present that never came.

His living was not a true living, but a postponing, a placing after. He placed his real life after his present life, forgetting that the present alone is real and that the present,  not the future, is in one's secure possession.

When St Augustine was asked what he would do if he knew he would die in the next hour, he replied, "Nothing other than what I am now doing." He was living as he thought he ought to be living, realizing   rather than postponing his Ideal.

From these lessons we may infer a Vital Imperative: As far as possible, live in the present as if the next hour were to be the hour of your death. How do you want death to find you? Living self-sufficiently in the riches of the moment? Or standing on tip-toe craning your head toward a nonexistent future?

Seize and Squeeze

Seize the day and squeeze it for all the juice it's worth. Repeat tomorrow. And no day without a little Emerson:

 . . . we should not postpone and refer and wish, but do broad justice where we are, by whomsoever we deal with, accepting our   actual companions and circumstances, however humble or odious, as  the mystic officials to whom the universe has delegated its whole pleasure for us. (From "Experience")

The Pointlessness of Worry

The dreaded event will either occur or it will not. If it occurs, then the worrier suffers twice, once from the event, and once from the worry. If it does not occur, then the person suffers from neither.    Therefore, worry is irrational.  Make provision for the future, be aware of the possibilities of mishap, take reasonable precautions — but don't worry.

Right and Wrong Order

Right Order: Finish your schooling; find a job that promises to be satisfying over the long haul and stick with it; eliminate debts and save money; get married after due consultation with both heads,   especially the big one; have children.

Wrong Order: Have children; get married; take any job to stay alive; get some schooling to avoid working in a car wash for the rest of your life.