rel="nofollow" href="#fb3_img_img_8bda0d5e-f1c8-59b2-a100-90f8ad7fdd24.png" alt="Tip"/> We consult the writings of the great dead philosophers not for any final word on the ultimate questions of philosophy, but rather to help get us started, using the insights and avoiding the pitfalls already discovered by those who have gone before us. Early in this century, William Ralph Inge explained, “The object of studying philosophy is to know one’s own mind, not other people’s.” So when we are doing philosophy, we go to the books and essays of past thinkers not to take inventory of their thoughts, or to gather up from them all the answers we might want, but, rather, for the assistance and inspiration we need to do our own jobs as thinkers.
Emerson comments, “Books are the best of things, well used; abused, among the worst. What is the right use? What is the one end which all means go to effect? They are for nothing but to inspire.” I hope in this book to begin to inspire you, as I have been inspired by the books of others, to look into these matters for yourself and fight to attain a bit of your own wisdom for life. Likewise, I’ll be your guide, as I use many guides myself, to make our way forward together.
Understanding the Power of Belief
Let me pass on an important lesson I’ve learned about the role of assumption and belief in our lives. It demonstrates our need for the discipline of philosophy, and in an unusual way.
For a long time, my family had wanted to own a gas grill, the kind that has a fat tank of propane under it. But people had warned me about the dangers of propane gas. It’s really combustible. And, breathed in, they said, it’s seriously toxic. I seemed to remember that I had heard or read somewhere that in its natural state, propane gas is without odor, but that refiners added a smell so that any leaking gas could be detected immediately and avoided.
Socrates wasn’t the only philosopher who enjoyed being involved in a good grilling (Get it? Because he questioned people relentlessly — and if you did get my lame joke, well done!), so when my family offered to get me the long-discussed gas grill for Father’s Day, I agreed with enthusiasm to do my part in making all their charred dreams come true. My wife called a local store and ordered a deluxe model. She also paid to have it assembled and delivered. Philosophers are often not the best at putting together anything but ideas.
Some days later, we received a call from the store that the grill was in, assembled, and “ready to go.” My wife bought the burgers and hot dogs, and all the other normal cookout stuff, and prepared for a feast. When the delivery guys arrived, they pointed out that I would have to hook up the gas tank to the grill when I was ready to use it. They explained that they were required to deliver it unattached. I assumed it was really dangerous to transport the tank hooked up.
They drove away, and with the assistance of written instructions and diagrams, I went to work trying to hook up the tank. I fumbled with the hose and connectors, and kept getting it wrong, and I felt myself getting short of breath. I was doing all this outside so that any leaking propane would dissipate quickly, but obviously there wasn’t enough of a breeze and I was getting too much of it into my lungs. I finally got it hooked up. But when I tried to light the grill, there was no fire. As I hung over it inspecting all the connections, I could feel myself getting light-headed and nauseous from more of the dangerous, deadly gas.
I called the store explained what I had done, and that I was obviously breathing so much propane at this point that I was getting really sick. In my mental fog, I could hear the guy who sold us the grill ask me a question.
“Where did you take the tank to get your propane?”
“What do you mean? The grill was just delivered, and the delivery guy said it was ready to go.”
“Oh, it was, except for the gas. We sell only new tanks with our grills, and they come empty. You have to go to a gas station to buy gas for it. That’s why it won’t light. You got an empty tank.”
Oh. I was being asphyxiated by a false belief. I was having physical symptoms from something that wasn’t there. But a breath of fresh information was all it took, and I was fine. Physically, at least. Mentally, I was embarrassed. My wife and kids laughed a lot. And they went to get some take-out food. I suppose Chaucer was right when he said, “People can die of mere imagination.”
In a way, it’s really good that this happened to me. As a philosopher, I learned something important about the power of our beliefs, and our imaginations, as well as about the hidden assumptions that can govern our thinking, acting, and feeling. The mind is indeed a powerful thing. And false beliefs can have a big impact on us.
The image of Plato’s Cave
Plato had a memorable image for the false beliefs and illusions we too often suffer. He wrote that we are all like prisoners living in a cave, chained down to the floor, our gazes fixed on shadows flitting across a wall, mere images that we mistake for realities.
Plato’s image of the cave was actually quite elaborate, but here is the gist: Imagine that behind us in this cavern, there is a fire burning that casts shadows on the walls that are all we ever see, until the day someone breaks free of his chains, sees our situation as it truly is, and escapes the cave altogether, emerging into real daylight. At first, he is blinded by the glare of the sun, that object of which the cavern fire was but a poor copy. But then his eyes begin to adjust and can see real objects, animals, rocks, and trees. Realizing the difference between the outside world and the poor dim shadow world in which he had been imprisoned, he returns to the cave to convince the others there to break their chains as well and ascend into the light of reality. Philosophy is all about escaping from the cave of illusions where too many people are trapped.
The philosophical Houdini
The man who first escapes the cave of illusion that Plato thinks we live in is the philosopher, the one among us who comes to realize that we are all in some way living lives of illusion, held captive by shadows and chains not of our own making. When he brings back into the cave his strange tale of other things and greater realities, he is cheered by some and jeered by others. We have a way of becoming comfortable with our illusions when they are all we’ve ever known. And so we are easily threatened by any strange reports of greater realities. But the true philosopher tries to free as many of his fellow captives as possible, liberating them to live in the broader, brighter realities that lie beyond the narrow confines of their customary perceptions.
That is a vivid image of the ultimate task of philosophy. Its goal is to free us from illusion and help us get a grip on the most fundamental realities of our world.
PLATO AS THE SOURCE
Plato is seen by many to be the ultimate source of all western philosophy.
Out of Plato come all things that are still written and debated among men of thought.
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
The safest characterization of the European philosophical tradition is that it consists of a series of footnotes to Plato.
— Alfred North Whitehead
Think about any illusions you could be living under right now. There may be things you value that really lack the importance you attribute to them. There could be matters you’re ignoring that are really of immense value. You might be making assumptions about your life that are based on mere appearances and not the realities of your situation. Most people are chained down by all sorts of illusions. It’s the goal of philosophy, well done, to help us all break those chains.
We actually have no choice of whether to do philosophy or not, of whether to be philosophers or not. We inevitably operate out of some philosophical worldview, however well-formed or incomplete it might be. Our choice is between bad philosophy, either unreflectively absorbed from the culture around us and the prejudices of our