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PREFACE FOR INSTRUCTORS
No introduction to philosophy book can be all things to all instructors, because there are many ways one can introduce students to philosophy. One time-honored and very traditional method is to take an historical approach, to begin with the ancient Greeks and embark on a speedy and concise journey through 2500 years of intellectual history. There is certainly great value in this technique. Students ought to have some exposure to the treasure trove in the Aladdin’s Cave of the past, and encounter a few of the great names of history. There is also value in seeing how philosophical approaches have evolved and changed over time, and even how puzzles have appeared and dissolved, only to reappear in a new form. The sense of deep history helps promote a bit of intellectual modesty about our own place in the sweep of time. There are downsides to this strategy, though. One is that introductory students often find the great historical philosophers to be very difficult to read, with unfamiliar and technical vocabularies and archaic styles. It is the rare beginning student in philosophy who reads Kant and thinks, “this stuff is great! I’m buying all his books!” Another problem with an historical introduction is the risk of getting caught up in interminable disputes over the proper members of the canon, or at the very least of inadvertently giving a misleading sense of philosophical history through omission, as no course can possibly cover everything.
A second way to introduce philosophy is by showing how ethics, epistemology, metaphysics, and the other familiar branches of the field address modern concerns, or hot-button topics of our time. For example, a course could be structured around race and social justice, and the philosophical armamentarium wheeled out to engage those topics. There is merit in this course design as well, since it is vital for students to see that philosophy does not consist of ossified ideas they need to memorize, but is a powerful means of engaging with and solving modern problems. It is also useful in that metaphysics can be brought to bear on, say, “race,” political philosophy on “social justice,” and so forth, demonstrating what each specialty has to contribute to the same cluster of interrelated subjects. A risk to this approach is that students may walk away thinking that philosophy is just about trendy topics, and miss out on 98% of what philosophers do and have thought about. Another problem is that today’s exciting headline issues often become tomorrow’s birdcage liner. Many introductory students will only take one course in philosophy, and afterwards they should have some sense of the durability and majesty of our profession.
The present book takes a third path. Although it includes commentary on the great historical philosophers and tries to show contemporary relevance, the book introduces students to philosophy topically. While there are references to Buddhism, the Vedas, Islam, and so on, the issues addressed are the bread-and-butter mainstream subjects in broadly analytic Western philosophy. Any student who successfully completes a course based on this book will have a solid grounding in wide variety of topics in different subdisciplines, as well as the pros and cons of different theoretical ways to address those topics. A student who masters the content of this book is well-placed to move on as a philosophy major in the vast majority of philosophy departments.
The problems of philosophy are deeply interconnected, and there is no natural or obvious starting point from which to begin. Indeed, plausible arguments might be given for starting with almost any of the central problems in the field. You might think that we should surely start with epistemology; until we understand what knowledge is and settle the matter of whether and how we can gain any knowledge at all, how can we possibly determine whether we can have knowledge of God, or our moral duties, or the nature of the mind? Clearly epistemology is the most fundamental philosophical project. Wait–how can we be sure that knowledge is valuable to have? Or that we ought to care about gaining truth and avoiding error? We’d better start with axiology and sort out duty, obligation, and responsibility first. Normativity and ethics must be foundational. Of course, how can we determine what our epistemic responsibilities are if we don’t antecedently know whether we are free to believe one thing rather than another, or if we are truly at liberty to make choices? Let’s begin with the issue of free will and figure that out first. If we’re not