Two monks were arguing about a flag. One said: “The flag is moving.”
The other said: “The wind is moving.”
The sixth patriarch happened to be passing by. He told them: “Not the wind, not the flag; mind is moving.”
Mumon, The Gateless Gate, Koan 29.
Between astounding technological innovations and shocking geopolitical developments, the world today is full of fast and furious changes. These changes have made many people feel lost and bewildered. There is a sense that the younger generations seem to be lost. In Thailand, where I live and most people are Buddhist, changes are as fast as anywhere else, and they affect Buddhism as well. The monks and the temples are highly conservative; the monks largely keep to themselves, living and practicing in the same way they have done for centuries. In this context, most younger people seem lost, in the sense that they cannot find any meaning in their lives deeper than just to get a job and to become a consumer. That can hardly be satisfying. Even many of my generation (having just turned sixty-three) seem to be lost, perhaps more so because many are bewildered by all the changes they see around them.
This bewilderment, this lost sense of direction or meaning, can be seen in how many people have become either dogmatic or skeptic. They are dogmatic in the sense that they believe in something very passionately, something they can hold on to so that they can somehow make sense of the whirling world around them. We witness this situation every day in political debates, among other areas. This hold can be unflinching, hence the word “dogmatic.” Alternatively, people can also become skeptics, in the sense that they have lost all interest in finding their moorings or sense of direction, having lost their belief and faith—in Buddhism, their religion and, more generally, the social institutions they have grown up with. This, I believe, can be seen more clearly in people within younger generations, as I have seen many of them saying they do not trust the religious and political institutions of their country any more.
However, dogmatism and skepticism are but two sides of the same coin. Either one holds on to something very passionately, or one, equally passionately, holds on to the fact that one does not hold on to anything. Neither are healthy for any society. Here the study of philosophy, I argue, can find a well-grounded purpose. What is distinctive about philosophy is that it does not primarily aim at presenting knowledge of the world. In my view, philosophy is a meaning-making exercise, rather than a fact-finding one. Natural sciences give us knowledge of the Earth, but philosophy gives us answers to the question of what it means for us to live on Earth; what it means for us to be creatures who can think, who can wonder who we are and why we are here. Certainly, science does give us the basis on which we can ponder about the basis of such questions. However answers to questions about meaning cannot, in my view, derive from science alone. It is thanks to philosophy, as it can help us come up with answers to such open-ended questions that can help us navigate our way in a world beset by both dogmatism and skepticism. The reason being, these answers, just like the questions they address, are inevitably tentative and open-ended: That open-endedness is part of philosophy’s nature.
Take the question: What are we, as human beings? On the one hand, we are biological creatures, in the same way crabs or whales are; on the other hand, there seems to be something over and above our condition as mere biological organisms, due to our rationality and our use of language. German philosopher Martin Heidegger claimed that humans are thrown into this world—suddenly we find ourselves here and now, trying to make sense of it all. This leads to the question: what takes precedence over the other? Are we, primarily, a kind of biological organism, or some thrown creature wondering what is the meaning of it all, as Heidegger says? Or perhaps we are biological creatures that are thrown here, pondering our predicament here and now?
There is no one clear and definite answer for any such question: while in disciplines such as mathematics there are clear and definite answers, but not so in philosophy—that is its beauty. (Some philosophers may believe that philosophy can give clear and definite answers like mathematics; however, that any such answer can be further questioned, regardless of its universal claim, is also part of philosophy’s beauty) It is this ever-seeking character that can help us find our way through the maze created by dogmatism and skepticism. On the one hand, we can avoid dogmatism by realizing that questions that really matter do not lend themselves to an easy answer: there is no one fixed answer to the question of what we, human beings, are. On the other hand, we can also avoid skepticism. The fact that there is no one fixed and correct answer to the question does not mean that there is no answer at all, nor does it mean that the question is meaningless and should be avoided altogether. Thus, philosophy is a continuous process: there could be a satisfactory, or even correct answer, that could work as an endpoint for philosophical inquiry. However, such an endpoint is inherently feeble and elusive. Any such answer inevitably leads to further questions, as philosophical inquiry is inherently open-ended—and we, as practitioners of philosophy, must continue searching through thinking and discussing with our peers.
In this way, the study of philosophy can be helpful in the situation where many succumb to either dogmatism or skepticism as they appear to be in this fast-paced world. Many in Thailand, for example, are disillusioned with the old institutions, but they cannot find anything yet that works for them as the old institutions did. Through philosophy, I believe people can find new ways out of their bewilderment. They can, for example, look at the old institutions anew, and try to adapt and reinterpret them to suit the fast-paced world. This ability to adapt is a direct result of avoiding both dogmatism and skepticism. Philosophy shows that there is no answer truly set in stone, such as those given by the institutional authorities who demand them in order to be obeyed; but to not repudiate institutions altogether either, unlike those who have fallen into the skeptical path. To practice philosophy means to be continually on the search, which is a good thing because that means they keep asking questions and keep reevaluating what they have taken as definite.
So, the next time you are bewildered by the newest development in technology, or by the tumult and turmoil of contemporary society, you can then rely on philosophy to find your way through it. There are many ways to do this. Without needing to go to college to study philosophy, you can start by reading some introductory books on the subject or even watching good YouTube videos. Then chances will be that you are not beset by dogmatism, which would mean that you are attached to the change without pausing to reflect on it; but on the other hand, you don’t turn your back to the change or to the technology either. It is the unique ability of philosophy to go back and forth between settling on an answer on the one hand. and criticizing and overturning it on the other, that gives you the idea how to navigate through this bewilderment without being captured by it. By continually searching, you neither are fixated on any one belief, nor do you need to abandon all beliefs altogether.
Soraj Hongladarom
Soraj Hongladarom is an international associate member of the APA. He teaches philosophy at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, Thailand, and got his Ph.D. from Indiana University, Bloomington in 1991. His most recent books areThe Online Self: Externalism, Friendship and Games, published by Springer in 2016 andA Buddhist Theory of Privacy, also by Springer.
Interesting and well articulated