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Connection of the Philosophical and the Pragmatic

One could argue—and I have myself many a time—that never before in human history has there been greater need for the presence of philosophical habit and the realization of philosophical wisdom. We find ourselves engaged in constant communication. Therefore, we find ourselves also immersed ever more in ideas. A theoretical grasp of those ideas seems necessary to practically incorporating them into our lives. But the contrast of philosophical practice and pragmatic exercise seems an irresoluble tension. This irresoluble tension has resulted in two distinct groups of persons who either do not or cannot communicate.

Thus, there are those who have the ability to do things in the world—“technologists”, in the broad sense of the term, as those in possession of pragmatic techne—and those who have an understanding of the world—“philosophers”, those who are in possession of episteme or even in some relation to sophia. But those who can do seem not to understand, while those who understand seem incapable of doing.

We see this tension realized in the discussions around artificial intelligence, politics, raising children, and the ever-increasing moral and psychological listlessness, acedia, which seems to ensnare more and more persons by the day. How can we overcome this tension, bringing understanding to those who can do, and the ability to do to those who understand? Join us this evening for our Philosophical Happy Hour to discuss!

Philosophical Happy Hour

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Come join us for drinks (adult or otherwise) and a meaningful conversation. Open to the public! Held every Wednesday from 5:45–7:15pm ET.

Debate and the Hope of Resolution

We at the Lyceum are strong believers in the fruits of disputation—but does a disputation differ from a debate? What makes something a debate, rather than a disputation? Both, obviously, present a plurality of positions on a singular question. But what differentiates the two? As often the case, the words’ respective etymologies give a provisional instruction:

dispute (v.)

c. 1300, “engage in argumentation or discussion,” from Old French desputer (12c.) “dispute, fight over, contend for, discuss” and directly from Latin disputare “weigh, examine, discuss, argue, explain,” from dis- “separately, apart” (see dis-) + putare “to count, consider,” originally “to prune, make clean, clear up” (from PIE root *pau- (2) “to cut, strike, stamp”).

The Latin word was used in Vulgate in sense of “to argue, contend with words.” In English, transitive sense of “argue against, attempt to disprove, deny” is from 1510s. Related: Disputabledisputeddisputing.

debate (v.)

late 14c., “to quarrel, dispute,” also “to combat, fight, make war” (senses now archaic), also “discuss, deliberate upon the pros and cons of,” from Old French debatre (13c., Modern French débattre), originally “to fight,” from de- “down, completely” (see de-) + batre “to beat,” from Latin battuere “beat” (see batter (v.)).

And he began for to debate; He smote þe porter. [“Robert of Sicily,” c. 1500]

Transitive sense of “to contend about in argument” is from mid-15c.; that of “argue for or against in public” is from 1520s. Related: Debateddebating.

As we can see from these word-histories, debating comes originally from beating down, while disputing comes from the opposition of thinking. One suggests a violence—oft witnesses today (one needs only to search YouTube for debates to see)—while the other, a reckoning from positions opposed to something resolved.

But today, it may seem that disputation is a futile task. Can we really think through to a conclusion? Do we have no alternatives but to debate—to beat one another down in words? Many despair of truth prevailing through argument, through reason; many believe that the purpose of debate, revealed in its oft-contentious nature, is not to persuade, but only to strengthen those among the audience in their already-determined beliefs. The ability of the intellect to discern and convey truth persuasively has fallen under a dark shadow of doubt in our day. Do we yet have cause for hope? May we still discover and share the fruits of our understanding in conversation with those who hold positions opposed to our own? Come join our Philosophical Happy Hour this evening, where we will discuss debate and the hope we may have for resolution in times of intellectual darkness.

Philosophical Happy Hour

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Come join us for drinks (adult or otherwise) and a meaningful conversation. Open to the public! Held every Wednesday from 5:45–7:15pm ET.

The Habit of Conversation

Distracted from distraction by distraction
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning
Tumid apathy with no concentration
-T.S. Eliot 1935: “Burnt Norton” (first of the Four Quartets), III.

Few poets ever have and likely ever will attain the prescience of T.S. Eliot. I find myself repeating, with increasing frequency, the lines quoted above: not only so that I might recall myself to focus, but to name the phenomena seen in others. We find ourselves struggling to hold meaningful conversations, dismayed either by others inattentiveness or ensnared by our own distractions.

But without conversation, we suffer an enormous blow to the integrity of our human way of life. We ought instead strive to affect a recovery of the habit of conversation. Here, allow us to explore some avenues through which such a recovery might be made.

The Language of Conversation: Holding vs. Having

First, it is important that we be able to say what a conversation is. As with many common phenomena, we likely take for granted that we “know” what a conversation is without needing to define it. But this kind of “knowledge”—experiential familiarity—does not help us overcome our present conversational malaise. In other words, we need to deepen our knowledge of conversation if we wish to have better conversations.

The way we speak about conversations, as with many other things, often reveals our underlying beliefs about what a conversation is, even if we are not consciously aware of that belief. For one thing, it seems that the phrase “holding a conversation has become increasingly rare, replaced by the more transactional “having a conversation.” The distinction between holding and having a conversation is subtle yet significant. “Holding” a conversation implies a sense of presence, responsibility, and of participation. The conversation is held between two people. By contrast, “having” a conversation suggests something that each individual gets or receives from the other(s) involved. It turns the conversation into a possession. This shift in language seemingly reflects the deeper, atomistic individualism pervasive in our society.

It implies, that is, that conversations have become commodities, something we acquire or consume, rather than an essential aspect of our human connection.

Holding Ourselves in Conversation

But holding a conversation is not merely a transitive, extrinsic action. We hold a conversation only by holding ourselves within it. We hold to the conversation. How often do we find ourselves not present or open to the other? Do we listen for an opportunity to speak—to rejoin, respond, to deviate into something else—or do we listen to what is being said? Do we listen so that we might hear or so that we might get something out of it?

Technology has undeniably altered our habits of conversation. Smartphones, in particular, have become both a distraction and a crutch, frequently drawing us away from in-person interactions. But are there other ways technology, other technologies, that affect our conversational habits?

One interesting aside to consider is the role of AI and chatbots like ChatGPT which may shape our conversational habits. The promise of instant feedback and the ability to return immediately to whatever topic offered by these platforms can reinforce the transactional attitude toward conversation: an exchange of information, on-demand. The silence, the gestational pause of thinking, of truly reasoning, plays no role in these technologies. Even our text-messaging habits lean into this: the absolute horror of being too long “left on read” without receiving a response.

Balance: Held by the Word, rather than the World

As humans, we navigate a delicate balance between active and passive engagement. However, it seems that our current approach to conversations may have disrupted this equilibrium. We must consider whether we are too passive or too active, or perhaps passive or active in the wrong ways. Reflecting on our conversational habits and our relationship with technology is an essential first step toward rekindling the art of meaningful dialogue.

Perhaps the best way to rectify this conversational degradation is, in fact, by having one: a thoughtful, careful, and meaningful participation—not an exchange, but truly communicating in the pursuit of truth. Join us this Wednesday for our Philosophical Happy Hour, exploring this critical aspect of human connection and rediscovering the beauty of holding, and being held by, a conversation.

Philosophical Happy Hour

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Come join us for drinks (adult or otherwise) and a meaningful conversation. Open to the public! Held every Wednesday from 5:45–7:15pm ET.

The Virtues (and Dangers) of Listening – Part I

What are the virtues of a good listener? What are the dangers of listening? Dr. Mark McCullough answers these questions.

What are the virtues of a good listener?  In the weeks that follow, I will answer this question in four installments: in the first three installments I concentrate on four different virtues important for good listening: generosity, curiosity, compassion, and courage.  In the fourth and final installment, I discuss dangers for the listener, each one corresponding with its companion virtue by looking closely at the role of listening in the poem The Divine Comedy written by the thirteenth-century Italian poet Dante. I conclude by offering advice on how to avoid being pulled into the self-destructive narratives that we hear others tell themselves as well as those fictions we tell ourselves.

I. Generosity

Generosity is the first virtue of a good listener because, without it, we cannot practice the other virtues important for listening.  Like prudence, which Thomas Aquinas called the “mother” of other cardinal virtues, generosity gives birth to curiosity, compassion, and courage.  These are the gifts of generosity, and this virtue is characterized by abundance.

When we listen, we give our time and our attention.  Time and attention are no small gifts. Neither is patience which is a capacity for and an offering of our time and attention. This offering is characterized by calm confidence.  Listening starts when we patiently give our time and attention and wait.  We do not simply tolerate waiting while listening for something to emerge.  We accept waiting as a condition of emergence, either in the form of words or silence.

Originally, the word “generosity” characterized a person of “excellence or noble birth.”  Though no longer the meaning we associate with it, there is a lesson to be found in this word’s origin.  Anyone can be a generous listener but to practice listening well is to present oneself habitually as having the capacity to give with minimal diminishment.  Such a capacity suggests potential as when we say for example that a particular animal breed is “good stock.”  In other words, the breed promises great things based on prior success.  Listening, too, has a history and this is why we often return to others we consider “good listeners” when we feel we need to be heard (more on this “need” later).

Notice above how I wrote “to practice listening well is to present oneself…”.  Listening, like most relational acts, has an element of presentation. When we listen, we present ourselves to the one to whom we will listen.  We indicate our availability with eye contact or sitting closer.  Technology, the shift from face-to-face to the virtual realm, has made presenting ourselves as good listeners more difficult.  To present ourselves as available to hear someone when we are on a phone or video call is challenging.  Even more challenging might be how to be generous with these forms of media.  “Is it a good time to talk?” is a question I often hear from a friend who calls after a long absence to catch up.  A simple “yes” might confirm my availability, but it doesn’t always confirm my capacity for listening.  For that, I rely on further confirmation, the “mmm” and “huhs” that holds my presence for them, as my eyes are either hidden from view or flattened by a screen.

Which brings me to an important, personal rule about good listening.  Never pretend.  Never present what you cannot minimally commit to.  It is better to tell a loved one that another time is better for listening and choose the time than it is to commit now and give your attention by half.  Such a halving (or quartering, or worse) reveals an impoverished listener and is ungenerous, even if it seems generous relative to what the listener who is beset by many other responsibilities believes she can offer.  One experience of being listened to is far more precious than a thousand instances of competing for someone’s hard sought-after or over-promised attention.

The feeling of having been listened to is often commensurate with the perception of the listener’s generosity.  When we present the gift of ourselves as available to receive something important, we reflect the capacity necessary to recognize whatever might emerge, especially feelings of pain, anger, and loneliness.  Good listening does not present a vacuum or echo chambers like the ones created deliberately in the offices of poorly trained therapists.  Good listening bespeaks of a plentitude where every emergent articulation of one’s experience has its proper place.  Disappointment?  There’s a space for that.  Anger?  There’s a space for that too.  Before we can understand exactly what the disappointment or anger is, a space is created by the presented capacity of the listener.  Before understanding, we have the grounds for understanding in a shared space.  Those grounds must be ample, providing more space than might be imagined by the one who needs listening to.

In my next post, I will concentrate on two more virtues of good listening: curiosity and courage.

Lyceum Institute Happy Hour

What are you doing this evening? Well, why not come on down to the Lyceum Institute Philosophical Happy Hour, where we gather online to have a drink (if you so chose–no pressure!) and think through the interesting questions of life. As a prelude to tomorrow’s International Open Seminar on Semiotics interview, Dr. Kemple will have signs and their study on the mind, so if you’d like any deeper insight into the issues, feel free to drop on by!

Use the contact form here (just write “happy hour”) to request an email invite!