What Is So Good About a Philosophy Department? — Written for Parents

Poor parents across the world all feel this way: if their children actually choose to study philosophy, it is rather like their children saying they want to join the underworld, or saying they want to marry an eighty-two-year-old man. How many parents would not be deeply worried by that?

Such anxiety is only natural. A single casual choice can alter the whole second half of one’s life; how much more so matters as major as the college entrance examination and choosing a major? The child has not yet seen the world, so how could parents not keep a close eye on things?

Indeed, many people are simply not suited to studying philosophy: especially those who lack opinions of their own and have always merely let parents and teachers arrange their studies; or those who lack ideals and drift through life in a half-hearted muddle. If they go to the philosophy department, they will very likely lose their bearings and not know what they are supposed to do. People like that often finish four years of study almost without noticing—because philosophy is the easiest major to coast through. What do they learn? I must say: in the philosophy department, you learn nothing at all. What about after graduation? Of course, you can do nothing at all.

So many of those who come out of philosophy are good-for-nothings, having learned nothing else, but having somehow picked up a whole set of habits of freewheeling laxity and aiming too high; they cannot even do small things well, much less accomplish big ones. For them, choosing the philosophy department is probably truly a waste of youth.

But the philosophy department is suitable for children who have opinions of their own, enthusiasm, and broad interests and hobbies. For them, the philosophy department’s shortcomings will become its greatest strengths:

The freedom and looseness of the philosophy department, as well as the uncertainty of its future prospects, means that it contains infinite possibilities. In the present, whether in politics, business, or literature, among those who accomplish great things, how many have stayed all the way along in the same major they studied as undergraduates? For a person’s life, college is only a starting point. Even if one later leaves philosophy—most philosophy graduates will not continue with philosophical research—and enters fields such as law, politics, or economics, the influence of philosophy will be extremely beneficial. They will not have a smooth and easy start, but they will have a much broader prospect.

If, from the moment one enters university, one’s career assignment is already fixed, is that a good thing? It only means that your future ends there; you can foresee what things will be like twenty years later, fifty years later—that is all. Of course that is stable, but is it interesting?

Of course, for many parents, it is enough just to be safe and sound; let there be peace all under heaven. Better still if one can become a minor civil servant, with work that is both leisurely and well paid. Then choosing the philosophy department is indeed not appropriate.

And yet, have such parents really secured their children’s future, or have they deprived them of it?

Stability is, of course, a good thing, and the profession of a philosophy professor is even more stable. But whose stability is being pursued here, exactly? The children’s? — If a child who has already come to love philosophy deeply is given such a stable, utterly unsurprising, ordinary, and flavorless job, can his heart really settle down? If he remains forever brooding over the fact that he never got to study philosophy as he wished, would he not often feel bored and resistant toward his dull work? Would he not, whenever he recalls that original regret, fall into conflict and remorse? For the child himself, does such a career really count as stable? Of course not. The stability parents pursue in name for their children is in truth only for the sake of making the parents’ own hearts stable; to exchange one’s own peace of mind for a child’s lifetime of deprivation—isn’t that a bit too selfish?

It is easy to imagine: the more stable a profession is, the less chance there is of achieving great things. Once a person becomes content with mediocrity and loses their ideals, then their achievements amount at most to the difference between one salary figure and another; in the end, that is all it will ever be. Parents have already labored for half their lives—have they never thought: what exactly have I endured this life for? What, exactly, have I done in my life, and for the sake of what?

If life were merely about one’s own enjoyment, about being happy and having a good time, that would also be very good. Then why hinder one’s children from pursuing their own pleasures? If life still has some other meaning besides that, then what exactly is it?

Children? Of course, children are the parents’ vessel of hope; raising a child to adulthood is perhaps a parent’s greatest “achievement.” But if that is where meaning lies, then for the child, what exactly should their life pursue? Could it be that the child exists only to become the parents’ vessel of hope? Only so that the parents’ life may have meaning? If that is so, then are parents not being a little too selfish again? If children ought to have their own lives, their own pursuits, then what may they pursue? Only continuing to raise the next generation so as to pass on hope? If that is so, then in the final analysis one is merely throwing this headache-inducing matter to the younger generation—isn’t that a bit too lazy?

If, besides eating, drinking, and the rest of the bodily necessities, life should still have something else to pursue, then what is it? Inner joy and fulfillment? Opening one’s eyes and looking more closely at this glittering world? Rising above others or becoming famous and establishing one’s name? Or perhaps simply leisurely enjoying an ordinary life?

To be a philosopher is precisely to be able, at once, to realize each of the above.

Studying philosophy is joyful and fulfilling. Of course, studying philosophy can also plunge one into pain, but even the pain of thinking is a pleasure. At the very least, philosophy can be used to enrich the mind; in a certain sense, only philosophical thinking can fill the hunger or emptiness of the spirit;

Aside from drivers and tour guides, scholars are probably among the professions most suited to travel. Every so-called academic conference is a disguised sightseeing trip, and one paid for by the public purse. Every year there are also long winter and summer vacations: go wherever you want, whenever you want—what profession could be more convenient? Spending the whole year moving only between office and home, day after day along the same two points, wouldn’t that be maddeningly dull? No matter how much money you make, what use is it if there is no chance to spend it? Save it up for the next generation? As said before, that is nothing more than dumping the “burden” onto the next generation.

If one hopes to rise above the ordinary, or even leave one’s name in history, then the road of philosophy is naturally the most convenient one. In this respect, no money-making profession can compare with the philosopher—Bill Gates is undoubtedly a figure who will go down in history, but he did so by means of his epoch-making Windows system. Who was the world’s second-richest person? Who was the world’s richest person in the 1950s? Who was the richest person in classical Germany? Who was the richest person in ancient Greece? Who would care about them? A hundred years later, they are nothing but a pot of yellow earth. Even scientists and revolutionaries who transform heaven and earth often only leave their “name” in the pages of history; modern scientists will no longer read Newton’s works. However, the achievements of philosophers are truly immortal—Plato, Kongzi, Kant, Zhu Xi… not only their names, but also their words, ideas, and writings may be transmitted for a thousand generations, sedimenting for hundreds or even thousands of years without losing their brilliance. That is what it means to bring glory to one’s family! Such a status is probably enjoyed only by philosophers. Of course, choosing to study philosophy is still far from becoming a great philosopher; but at least it is not hopeless. No matter how small the odds, there is always the chance of hitting the jackpot—and if you do not buy a lottery ticket at all, then don’t even think about it. If you choose to be a minor civil servant or a minor company employee for life, then there is simply nothing to think about.

Of course, besides doing philosophy, there are many other paths that may lead to great achievements. However, as said earlier, the more stable a profession is—and that also means the smaller the variables—the more difficult it is to accomplish great things. Philosophy, however, is an exception: the path of philosophy can produce epochal achievements that other professions would not even dare to imagine, yet it is also an extremely stable profession. Just now I mentioned that a scholar’s life is free and leisurely—of course, if one takes on more “projects,” one will also become very busy, but that kind of busyness is fulfilling and rich, not mechanical and dull. And this profession is also the most stable.

Of course, becoming a scholar who is free from anxiety about food and clothing as a vocation is not easy. Still, one thing worth mentioning is that development along the road of philosophy depends more on one’s own interest and commitment—this is not to say that a scholar need not properly handle interpersonal relationships. In fact, I have noticed some scholars whose networks are astonishingly extensive. But the scholar’s survival is, relatively speaking, not so constrained by power—only those without learning or ability rely on power to obtain fame, and bubbles always burst one day. What about many other professions? Then there is at least one factor that cannot be ignored, as my father often emphasized—“connections.” In today’s society, connections matter very much. If some parents think that finding a job today mainly depends on one’s own ability, and that having connections or not is not very important, then I must overstep a little and say they are too naïve. Here there are two cases: the first is that of ordinary parents who have not made much of a name for themselves in society, and therefore have no great connections or resources to offer their children. In that case, rather than racking one’s brains to dig up some rather unimpressive “connections” to help one’s child, why not let the child choose a broader road for themselves? Would it embarrass the parents if the child did not make use of that pitiful little bit of parental connection? Is it a matter of losing face, or of feeling sorry for the child? Is not the child’s independent choice something that should make the parents proud and honored? And doing scholarship is precisely one of those fields where one does not rely on connections, but on oneself, and can most easily achieve success; the second case is for those in somewhat better circumstances, with connections if they want them and paths if they need them. Yet if the child has not made use of the connections established by the parents, is that a regret? Perhaps. But if the child can step out of the parents’ territory and carve out a world of their own, is that not something to be gratified by?

Finally, speaking objectively, no matter how one argues it, if one really takes philosophy as a profession, one is bound to be a bit poor and shabby. Of course, however, there is absolutely no problem with simply making ends meet; if things go a little better, an annual income in six figures is still within reach. Of course, studying philosophy does not necessarily mean taking philosophy as one’s profession. The key is that philosophy means a freer way of learning, a broader future, and richer possibilities. Based on a philosophy department, whether one goes on to a master’s degree and switches to another major or goes into the workplace to fight it out, there is a greater chance of achieving “the extraordinary.” Moreover, in national terms, the philosophy department’s employment rate is, after all, considered the highest—of course, this is because there are too few institutions offering philosophy departments; unless they are first-rate universities, they do not have the capacity to establish a philosophy department. But this also shows the scarcity of philosophy students. After subtracting the large majority of graduates who waste their studies and coast through life, truly excellent philosophy graduates are very few indeed. Even if they do not continue along the road of philosophy, they will certainly not lack other outlets or fallback options.

2007年6月22日

Perhaps the last article while living in Yangrou Paoju (winter-cold-summer-hot residence); if all goes smoothly, I will move next week

Latest comments
  
mist

2007-06-22 16:26:25 Anonymous 124.17.16.176 [reply]

You also need to know that the philosophy departments of the universities have produced quite a number of graduates, but not many have become famous or established themselves as noted figures 
If there were a data table of the total number of students and their post-graduation destinations, perhaps that would better allay parents’ concerns

  
Gǔ Chù

2007-06-22 21:02:59 http://epr.ycool.com/ [reply]

Such a data table would not allay parents’ concerns. Because in fact, the majority of those who graduate from philosophy departments are indeed not very impressive. So I say that, in fact, many people are not suited to the philosophy department, because the philosophy department is too easy to coast through; those who drift through four years having done nothing at all will definitely not accomplish anything great. Therefore, parents’ concerns about their children entering the philosophy department are very understandable. However, the key point is that if one truly loves philosophy and is willing to devote oneself to the philosophy department, or if one is someone with opinions of one’s own who can independently seek one’s own ideals, then one is suited to come to the philosophy department.

  
Yī Wú

2007-06-22 21:45:23 [reply]

I’ve come to “keep things in check”….
“Children? Of course, children are the parents’ vessel of hope; raising a child to adulthood is perhaps a parent’s greatest ‘achievement.’ But if that is where meaning lies, then for the child, what exactly should their life pursue? Could it be that the child exists only to become the parents’ vessel of hope? Only so that the parents’ life may have meaning? If that is so, then are parents not being a little too selfish again? If children ought to have their own lives, their own pursuits, then what may they pursue? Only continuing to raise the next generation so as to pass on hope? If that is so, then in the final analysis one is merely throwing this headache-inducing matter to the younger generation—isn’t that a bit too lazy?” — You should still delete this section~~ It may actually backfire; the persuasive force is somewhat weaker. I’ll delete it myself……
And also… some parents never expect their children to become famous at all……

  
Gǔ Chù

2007-06-22 22:52:21 http://epr.ycool.com/ [reply]

This is not a question of whether one hopes one’s children will become famous; the parents I am addressing are precisely those who do not hope their children will become famous. If they want to say that they are “doing it for the child’s own good,” “for the child’s future,” then what exactly does that mean? Does it mean that the child is the parents’ hope and support? In other words, that the child’s life is merely there to make the parents’ life meaningful? That is simply tossing the problem of seeking meaning onto the next generation. Then what is the child’s life for? To repay the parents? Of course, but after all, in general parents leave this world earlier than children, and children will also have their own lives. Then what is the child’s own life for? Toss the meaning issue to the next generation again? In the final analysis, that is laziness. One should independently seek the meaning of life oneself, and even more should allow one’s children to independently seek their own meaning. Seeking meaning does not necessarily mean pursuing fame; I only mentioned the possibility of fame incidentally. There are many other ways to seek meaning, such as inner joy and fulfillment, opening one’s eyes and looking more closely at this glittering world, or simply leisurely enjoying an ordinary life, or else pursuing power, pursuing money, pursuing pleasure, and so on. All of these are possible, but the key is that one should pursue them independently, on one’s own.

If seeking meaning is a foolish thing, a childish fantasy. Then that is fine too. Then, if one does not talk about what is “good,” how can one talk about “everything for the child’s own good”? What is the child’s “good”? In the end, one is merely imposing one’s own hidden, unreflective values upon the child. At bottom, nominally it is for the child’s good, but in truth it is still for one’s own good.

Of course, saying these things out loud does indeed carry some risk of provoking anger. However, this question is still worth asking: if everything is for the child’s own good, then what exactly is “good”? If a peaceful and stable life is considered good, then such stability is obviously not the child’s own stability, because the child will spend his whole life burdened by regret, forever unable to be at peace on the road forced upon him by others. In the final analysis, it is nothing but the parents pursuing their own inner peace.

Of course, if one runs into some parents who say that they are not doing it for the child’s good at all, but only to raise children to support them in old age and serve themselves, then there is nothing to be done.

  
Gǔ Chù

2007-06-23 01:06:10 http://epr.ycool.com/ [reply]

I do not expect to persuade ordinary parents to approve of philosophy, but it is still possible to gradually get them accustomed to it and gradually bring them to compromise. Talking to parents about “meaning” and about values is indeed a matter of going in completely the opposite direction. However, that does not mean this interrogation has no effect at all—what exactly do people live for? I do not believe there is anyone who has never been troubled by this question. There is no doubt that parents often evade this question, but in any case, no one is truly indifferent to this question, no one is indifferent to life and death. Moreover, no one in fact hates “freedom,” although people often consciously or unconsciously evade freedom. No parent would think that imprisoning a child for life is good for that child; they only feel that the child is not yet sensible, and will naturally understand in the future. However, that is an illusion. Even apart from studying philosophy, in this era the generation gap between children and parents is already extremely obvious; to expect children who have grown up in a completely new era someday to come to agree with their parents’ ideas is perhaps too optimistic. In any case, even if they cannot agree, parents should take it a little easier: being obsessed with philosophy is surely better than being obsessed with internet cafés or gambling, isn’t it? Compared with the parents of those delinquent youths who can never be persuaded back, aren’t you still fortunate? For another example, if the child is born disabled and can do nothing at all, then what would parents do? In short, having a child capable of loving philosophy is, after all, something worth being somewhat gratified about…

  
Yī Wú

2007-06-24 21:58:57 [reply]

Heh. I don’t even know what to say anymore……

Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.