I had long wanted to write something to grumble about this course~~ But given that the religious studies introduction course gave me a score of 85.5, I felt satisfied, and so I had no intention of writing anything. But today, seeing the TA on the BBS soliciting “critical suggestions,” I was suddenly inspired, and so I wrote down the things I had originally meant to write……
First let me state clearly: I have great admiration for Professor Wu, and I have also gained a great deal from this course. The comments I want to make are not aimed at the quality of this course itself, but rather at what kind of teaching style is more suitable for an “introduction” course.
First, let us discuss the purpose and significance of an “introduction” course.
Introduction courses are aimed mainly at freshmen who have just entered their first year, as well as some other students from double-degree programs or other departments who are interested in the topic but have had little academic exposure. In other words, they are aimed at laypeople who have almost no contact with scholarship. The task of an introduction course is to lead, to guide, to bring people in at the door.
What is involved in bringing people in at the door is still enormously broad. In fact, if we are speaking of bringing people into the door of scholarship, then the entire undergraduate stage is still only entry-level; only in graduate school can one perhaps really begin to do research. And as the entry to entry, an introduction course has a more special role.
The teachers of the philosophy introduction course and the religious studies introduction course both adopt a teaching method centered on reading original texts, and this method has both advantages and disadvantages. The advantage is that it can help students understand how scholarship is actually done—reading books is the foundation of academic research. Modern scholarship long ago ceased to be a matter of detached speculation; all thinking, discussion, and criticism unfolds around texts. But the disadvantages are also great, especially when students who have only just had any contact with the field are asked to gnaw their way through the most obscure and profound classics on their own (such as Kant’s works). That is far too intimidating. (Note: I personally am a “fan” of Kant, but I am precisely least inclined to recommend Kant to beginners—that really is to invite a bad time! It was only later, after I was sparked by the popular introductory book The Tree of Philosophy, that I developed an interest in Kant and then proactively went to find the original texts to wrestle with.)
An introduction is a preparation for entering the field; its form can be a summary and introduction to what follows, or a statement about basic research methods, or even just some groundwork and incubation. The basics of reading original texts as the foundation of scholarship can also be felt in some more advanced courses, but there may be certain things whose cultivation deserves even more emphasis in an introduction course.
I like to use mathematics as an analogy: we know that the core of modern mathematics is “analysis,” or, simply put, calculus. But when facing a middle-schooler or elementary-school student who has had almost no contact with what mathematics is, should we use calculus as the center of their introductory math tutoring? Obviously not. If we did, we would only frighten the child rather than attract them to go further on their own. To help elementary school students understand mathematics, we still have to begin from the most original place: arithmetic, geometry. Let students deepen their understanding step by step, and as much as possible stimulate their desire to know so that they explore actively on their own. And a pedagogy of intimidation is, of course, also motivated by goodwill: “You must understand that scholarship is not based on wild imagination, but is serious and solid!” But one must know that our introduction course is not aimed at beginners in the field, but at undergraduate freshmen. In particular, Chinese undergraduate freshmen have not only usually had no contact with philosophy and religion, but what is worse is that they often already have widespread prejudices; this is the social background of contemporary China. To intimidate freshmen who already carry prejudices may indeed prevent them from becoming “folk philosophers,” but it may also cause more people to keep their distance from scholarship and no longer actively seek deeper understanding. I do not know how many freshmen have performed exceptionally well and stood out in their introduction-course studies; I only know that the number of students requesting to transfer departments grows year by year, and in this incoming class there are probably at least more than half of them. Not to mention that many students who do not request transfers are only staying in the philosophy department with a reluctant mood.
An introduction course is aimed at all students, not at the few who already have some contact with scholarship. There are always some freshmen who perform particularly well, but that is often because they already had a certain degree of contact with scholarship during middle school; fundamentally speaking, the introduction course is not designed for them, but for laypeople. And having had no prior contact with scholarship is not a fault, but rather something entirely natural under the current social background.
A good introduction course, above all, should be able to “captivate” people, guiding students who know nothing to develop an interest in further learning. Just as the introduction to mathematics should begin from the most original starting points of mathematics itself (arithmetic, geometry), the introduction to scholarship may as well also refer to the “starting points” of scholarship. We think of Aristotle saying that the birth of philosophy and science has three conditions: “wonder,” “leisure,” and “freedom” (or “a critical tradition”). These are probably the starting points of scholarship.
“Wonder”: an introduction course should stimulate students’ curiosity. At the same time, wonder also includes a kind of astonished, awed emotion, one that allows a person to remain humble while being curious. But reverence is not fear, and it does not have to be achieved by assigning obscure texts. It can be achieved in many other ways, such as by showing the richness and breadth of scholarly content.
“Leisure” frees thought from the shackles of utility; this is especially important for students raised under an exam-oriented education system. An academic introduction should, above all, help students break free from the deeply ingrained habit of studying merely to cope with examinations. Scholarship should not be forced under pressure; it should be carried out freely, propelled by curiosity, without burdens or entanglements. Therefore, an introduction course should not place too heavy a load on students—though I also think that our other specialized courses are, on the whole, actually too light a burden. Still, the introduction course is special.
“A critical tradition” frees thought from the shackles of dogma; this is also especially important for students raised under an exam-oriented education system. Our middle-school education is mostly one of stuffing students like ducks, indoctrinating them with dogmas that brook no argument. But university is no longer like that, and philosophy in particular can never be dogmatic indoctrination. Of course, doing philosophy cannot be detached from the classics so that one merely speculates on one’s own; but even more, it should encourage a critical perspective and encourage independent thinking and distinctive claims. — In the introduction to religious studies course, I did not see any hints in this direction. On the contrary, look at the way the assignment questions were phrased: “In the Book of Romans, how does Paul understand the suffering of Jesus,” “How do Locke, Kant, and Dostoevsky respectively view the relationship between Christianity and modern society”…… These ways of asking questions have the tone of entirely “objective questions.” Such a style of questioning seems, on the surface, to teach humility: “Don’t spout your own ideas at random; honestly and faithfully explain what those philosophers thought!” But in fact it instead implies a certain arrogance: as if one could confidently and precisely divine the opinions of those great philosophers! I think that the phrase “in your view” can be omitted in more advanced professional courses, but in an introduction course alone it must not be omitted!
I do not oppose a teaching method centered on original texts. I know this is the model of Western universities. But I have also read a few translated introductory philosophy textbooks written by Western authors (such as Big Questions, Introduction to Philosophy, and The Tree of Philosophy). It should be said that their styles are diverse and flexible, yet all of them are able to display the three aspects mentioned above. Teacher Li Silong’s elective course “How to Understand Religion” also assigns a thick volume of original-text selections, and likewise has the nature of an introduction to religious studies, but the teaching style is also quite different. Personally, I think an introduction course should even pay more attention than an elective course to accessibility and liveliness—because an elective course is chosen freely, and the students who choose it have already more or less had some interest. But an introduction course is a required course, and the very first required course at that, facing many students who harbor resistance inside themselves (this is not their fault; it is due to the social background). And how to ensure accessibility without becoming vulgar, liveliness without becoming restless, is what will test the teacher’s ability to handle heavy matters lightly and to move from the profound to the simple.
January 20, 2007
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
Leave a Reply