Philosophy & Wonder
I have taught out of more than a hundred philosophy books in my career as a college professor. One textbook had a prelude with a futuristic photo of a spaceship or missile launching or futuristic house (depending on the edition) along with a few words from the author. It set the tone for the exploration upon which my students and I were about to embark.
I was a bit embarrassed to read the words though. They were so simple and philosophy was generally believed to be, at least by my students, a foreboding, esoteric pursuit. Still I always thought they captured what philosophy is, as well as who would and wouldn’t like it in a clear, concise, and moving way. They felt written by a professor who was not out to impress his students with his intellect, but communicating at least partly with his heart. You response to them may be a test case of whether you will like this blog. Here is what he wrote:
The following pages may
lead you to wonder.
That’s really what philosophy
is—wondering.
To philosophize
is to wonder about life—
about right and wrong,
love and loneliness, war and death.
It is to wonder creatively
about freedom, truth, beauty, time
and a thousand other things.
To philosophize is
to explore life.
It especially means breaking free
to ask questions.
It means resisting
easy answers.
To philosophize
is to seek in oneself
the courage to ask
painful questions.
But if, by chance,
you have already asked
all your questions
and found all the answers—
if you’re sure you know
right from wrong,
and whether God exists,
and what justice means,
and why we mortals fear and hate and pray—
if indeed you have completed your wondering
about freedom and love and loneliness
and those thousand other things,
then the following pages
will waste your time.
Philosophy is for those
who are willing to be disturbed
with a creative disturbance.
Philosophy is for those
who still have the capacity
for wonder.
James Christian, Philosophy: An Introduction to the Art of Wondering
