By Roberta Millstein
It's been a little over a week since I posted my Why is this philosophy? reflections, and I find myself still puzzling over a common sort of reaction that I got to the post. The common reaction seemed to be that other areas of philosophy are subject to similar challenges, and/or that philosophers in other areas are subject to similar difficulties on the job market, etc. And so (the implication seemed to be), what was my point?
Let me first clarify that I certainly never meant to imply – and looking back over the post, do not see where I said – that philosophy of science or philosophers of science have it worse than anyone else. I do not take that to be the case. I know that there are certain areas of philosophy that are quite marginalized, causing practitioners in those areas to struggle at various points in their careers. So, why speak about philosophy of science? Well, philosophy of science is what I do, and so the particular criticisms of it are in my face more so than criticisms of other areas. I encourage others to speak out about challenges in their own areas, challenges that I am not in a position to speak to. But let's be clear that the challenges in area X, even if worse than the challenges in philosophy of science, don't make the challenges in philosophy of science go away or unworthy of discussion.
So, what are the particular criticisms that can make doing philosophy of science challenging?
Well, I think in large part they center around the empirical nature of philosophy of science and the resistance to the discussion of empirical claims by philosophers. There is an obvious history to this resistance, if not a linear or consistent one. I am not sure to respond to this kind of challenge other than what I said in the original post, echoing Subrena Smith's point that most philosophers are not as non-empirical as they might cast themselves to be. I guess I might also point out the value of philosophers engaging with science in a way that can bring clarity to scientific theories or findings, uncover their hidden assumptions (including value-laden assumptions), or shed light on perennial philosophical problems. I would think that other philosophers would value such endeavors and be willing to see them as being of a piece with what they do, but that is unfortunately not always the case.
A slightly different type of issue arises when one thinks that one has come across a paper where most of the paper is summary of science with only a small philosophical point at the end (as one commenter mentioned). I have seen those occasionally but not often; criticism of those kinds of papers is not my concern. Rather, my concern is the following, which could be confused for a summary paper or a "science" paper (and apologies for quoting myself from the comments):
I think there are many cases where the author is discussing a conceptual or methodological issue that is relevant to a particular science or a particular finding in science, rather than discussing one of the more canonical issues in philosophy. I think sometimes that those outside of the philosophy of science see only that the author is knee deep in the details of the science without appreciating the philosophical points that are being made because they don't recognize the topic that is under debate. To give two examples from my own work: in some of my research I have discussed the evolutionary process known as random genetic drift -- how it ought to be characterized, how it can be distinguished from other evolutionary processes, whether it can be empirically demonstrated, etc. In other research I have explored different types of experiment: lab experiments vs. field experiments vs. natural experiments, using particular cases in science to explore the merits of each. The former is an example of exploring concepts in science, whereas the latter is an example of exploring methodology in science. They are just as philosophical as explorations in, say, the philosophy of mind, but I think they are less recognized as philosophical by people who aren't familiar with the particular issues under discussion, and all they see is that details of science are being discussed -- sometimes complicated by the fact that they are grasping to understand the science itself, making it harder to see the philosophical points.
Here I think the principle of charity might apply. Rather than audience members asking "Why is this philosophy?" which can come off (even if genuinely asked) as insulting (since we're talking about a context where a self-proclaimed philosophers is giving a talk to other philosophers), the questioner could simply assume that the speaker is engaging in philosophical discourse, and instead try to ask questions that would uncover more about that discourse. Here is a sample question (maybe others can improve on this): "Can you say more about the broader philosophical context that your arguments fall into?" That seems like a better way of asking a genuine question that might enhance comprehension and discussion without being dismissive. A similar principle of charity could apply to job candidates, tenure dossiers, etc.
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