| All right, I’ll admit it – I’m a philosophy neophyte. So when I signed up for the Faith & Reason philosophy course at Fuller Theological Seminary I was mostly thinking about fulfilling a requirement for my Masters in Divinity. I was dreading the class for two reasons: 1) Philosophy is all about being highbrow; you know, ivory-tower brainiacs contemplating their navels – and I’m not that brainy. 2) It met on Wednesday nights and that’s when I faithfully watched “Survivor.” Did I mention I’m not highbrow?
I had to act fast to remedy my situation so I developed a plan to get through philosophy class with my dignity intact. Yes, fellow greenhorns … it is possible.
There are two basic methodologies one can follow to survive any Philosophy class: the Lion and the Lamb. We will first address the Lamb method and then give attention to the Lion.
They say that 90% of communication is non-verbal, so the primary concern of the Lamb is to use image as a smokescreen for intelligence. To put it simply – lay low, look smart and pray that no one asks you anything. But that’s not all there is to it.
The Lamb must make the best possible first impression, so some preparation is required before the semester starts. Men, grow a goatee. Your girlfriend and mom may say it’s sinister but it’s common knowledge that those with goatees appear to have more IQ points than those without. Women, wire-rimmed glasses are to you what the goatee is to the guys. Don’t enter class without them.
Next, attain some eccentric but not obnoxious clothes. These shouldn’t be ugly duds but not too stylish either. Apparel that can’t be categorized keeps potential predators at bay by giving you the unsafe look of a progressive mastermind. They’ll guard your fortress of poise by keeping everyone guessing. An arty tattoo is an optional accessory while a pipe is cliché and a beret would be considered overboard.
When in class a Lamb avoids betraying his ignorance for the maximum amount of time by remaining silent. Appear to be aloof, brooding or angst-ridden. If you are called upon don’t panic or be aggressive, but respond with concessionary philo-speak. Statements like, “I understand, I must have been trapped in my noetic structure,” or “That’s true, in the meta sense” are nebulous and therefore difficult to pin down. Be an evasive target as you avoid argument.
Be prepared, people will look at you quizzically. But this is precisely the point! Nearly all philosophy students are on shaky rational ground (it’s the nature of the subject) so they will be thankful for your conciliatory manner.
It’s vital that the classroom look and behavior of the Lamb be complimented by visits to the professor for philosophical “discussions” outside of class. Philosophy Profs love artsy coffee bars and fortunately every university town with an image has a proliferation of such establishments. If possible, pick one that hosts poetry readings and set up the meeting. Be sure to arrive early to arrange the table with tattered copies of Wittgenstein and Voltaire. Be entranced in a journaling exercise when the Prof walks in.
The purpose of this little summit is to “discuss” philosophical issues with your Prof so that she doesn’t call on you in class. Questions like, “Can you help me understand the tenets of nonfoundationalism?” or “What are your feelings about the influence of Hellenistic thought on Christianity?” will give her glee in this informal venue. Remember, professors must love to teach because they don’t make any money – so it’s almost guaranteed that she’ll love you for this. She’ll have feelings of warmth in relation to this “interested student” and, as an aside, you might actually learn something.
The Lion
The Lion takes the polar opposite position of the Lamb as far as external appearances and actions, but still maintains the ignorance. And while a Lion’s approach is edgier, it earns big class participation points with the Prof and can mean campus, or at least classroom, notoriety. This being said, the Lion approach might be for you.
The Lion has an outspoken view on everything that’s said in class. He lives and dies by the philosophy class presupposition – it’s not important that you make sense, just that you keep talking. Hence, the Lion approach fits the unspoken understanding of the discipline of philosophy. Consider – the study of philosophy is based totally on the discussions and arguments of brilliant, intellectual people who thought they knew what they were talking about. For a time they were like cerebral gods.
Of course now we know that they were all wrong. The philosophers of today take pride in poking holes in, then building upon, the theories of those who have gone before them. Thus, it’s true that in another century the genius philosopher of today – the brightest mind in our current generation – will be proved an ignoramus by a freshman philosophy student whose hindsight is 20/20.
So if all those smart guys throughout history can be wrong, so too do you have that privilege. The Lion revels in this right to be wrong – even abuses it.
The Lion seeks to be established as Alpha-dog, so each class period is approached like a game of ideological King of the Hill. For him, it’s all about attitude. I don’t recommend that a Lion berate or bully classmates, because that would be detrimental to the strategy and just expose you as a jerk. Rather, you should enthusiastically stand your ground in a discussion and appear to know what you’re talking about even though your line of reasoning is so convoluted it couldn’t be tracked by a bloodhound.
A Lion knows not to worry about facts or real life experience supporting an argument. While philosophers may be pleasantly surprised if facts support their theories, evidence is in no way necessary for the integrity of the discipline. But just in case your argument is being painted into a corner, be prepared with an arsenal of philo-speak to avoid continued disagreement. A trump card to play would be to wonder coyly if your attacker is a Cartesian minded Foundationalist – the ultimate insult in this age of Postmodernism. Chances are a hundred-to-one that your aggressor either won’t know what you’re talking about, or will be so incensed by your comment that he’ll want to speak to you after class – in which case you’re in trouble.
As a Lion, you must exude impassioned overconfidence. Your professor will appreciate your zeal during those otherwise lengthy after-question lulls and your comments may even add to the discussion by default – earning you big points. Also, after a few sessions with your Simba-like performance, your professor and classmates will be so desperate for you to shut your mouth that you’ll be able to ride out the semester in peace. People will avoid talking to you for fear of being taken on another wild cognitive ride they can’t understand or refute.
Of course the Lion and the Lamb are just two approaches to surviving philosophy class. Some people are gifted enough to survive without creative tactics but the funny thing is, they don’t necessarily have any more practical knowledge than those who claim ignorance. Philosophy is funny that way – it guides society by asking questions instead of giving answers. But that’s the nature of the discipline and a further reason why the subject needn’t be feared – even for us neophytes.
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