It was a hot afternoon 17 years ago. The class was restless and bored and waiting for the final ticks of the clock to signal their dismissal. The professor asked a question, I raised my hand. I recited with what I thought was something original and was rather pleased with my answer. But then the professor asked me rather sarcastically, “Are you trying to invent a new philosophy?”
It was meant as a rebuke and I sat down immediately, shamefaced. As a student of philosophy, I was not encouraged to give my opinion. I was thought to read and learn the details of various fields of philosophy and about the lives and works of various philosophers. There were standard definitions and facts to memorize. Never mind if I understood them or what I thought about them as long as I remain orthodox and later on graduate with a degree in philosophy and I was off to theology and the priesthood.
We consider the great philosophers as giants and I was not simply a dwarf standing on their shoulders, I was a speck of dust. I learn about their teachings and if I want an opinion, I read other authors’ books narrating their opinion about them. Forming a personal opinion should be left in the privacy of one’s thoughts. It is no wonder then that most of our theses had the words “in the light of the thoughts of” this and that philosophers. One does not dare to veer off from their thoughts. I was not thought to philosophize, I was thought to learn facts about philosophy. Why should I reflect on these great philosophers’ thoughts when I can read other authors with PhDs reflect upon them? Or so I thought.
As I was reading the first chapter of the book El Taller de la Filosofía by Jaime Nubiola (or at least I tried to read it with my stunted Spanish), I came face to face with my failings as a student of philosophy. It was not an “eezy reeding” (easy reading) as one Spanish student told me as the book became for me an occasion of examination of conscience, well, an examination of my intellectual conscience. And there was a lot of mea culpa on my part.
“Learn to see (aprender a mirar, p. 21).” For someone who depends on other philosophers’ view on reality as a guide, this is a real eye-opener. How can I be independent in my thoughts? Do I dare to see reality with my own intellectual insights? Wittgenstein said that the task of philosophy is “to show the fly out of the bottle.” The great philosophers can only show me the path towards wisdom and not a give me a step-by-step-on-how-to-achieve-enlightenment brochure. I should learn to walk the path shown.
The book tells us that intellectual life is not simply a possession of data but a search for truth and a love of wisdom. Again, my conscience tells me that I am guilty of transgression. I have not search for the truth, let other philosophers do that. And since my philosophical formation involved tedious memorization, there no great love for wisdom but simply a boring and arduous task. Mea culpa.
The book mentions about “paralysis by analysis”. How many times have I scoured various books for a certain theme and ending up not achieving anything because there is a nagging feeling that maybe another author have other opinions. So the search goes on ad on. In the end, too many opinions left me “paralyzed” with my work. It could have been easier if I read 3 or so books and then form my own opinion. Mea culpa.
The book mentions about discipline and creativity. I have no doubt about my creativity. The problem is discipline. I cannot help but admire Kant on his consistency and discipline which led him to author voluminous great works. I find it hard to finish a 5-page paperwork. There are too many distractions and unbounded imaginations and daydreaming. I often find myself reading a book in the library but my mind is elsewhere – in the Philippines. There is a need to tame one’s imagination and fortify one’s will. I must learn to focus on the task at hand. One must have interior discipline and peace to philosophize. Mea maxima culpa.
A philosopher is one who philosophize and not one who just parrots the thoughts of the great thinkers. Yes, these philosophers are giants and I am grateful that I can stand on their shoulders to see the reality they see and bask in the wisdom and truth they have fathomed. But hopefully I can also learn to walk alongside these giants and not simply be content on standing on their shoulders.
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