On Armchair Philosophy

To start off, I am not referring to the formal definitions found on Wikipedia or SEP’s Naturalism in Epistemology article (although knowing them does help).

I will attempt to define my interpretation of the term with this article, along with some of my thoughts on it.

Fantastic Writing and Where to Find Them

There are marked qualitative differences in the writing style of an educated professional and an amateur, which I begin by clarifying.

First, we can take a look at their source: the former style is more often found often in books (especially non-fiction/science), in academic articles (e.g. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy as mentioned above), and formal scientific discourse.

The latter style is more often found in everyday speech, comment sections (e.g. Reddit, Youtube), social networking sites (e.g. Twitter), as well as various chatrooms (e.g. Whatsapp/Telegram, Discord, and in-game chat).

For emphasis, I have highlighted “more often” to bring attention to the fact they are not concrete definitions (I have seen plenty of exceptions myself)—the source alone is not enough to define the type of writing I have described. In addition, these are also subjective probabilities from both my personal first and third person experiences (writing them myself vs seeing others write them) and do not necessarily encompass a fully-representative range of (modern) human literature.

Another way of evaluating the source would be to trace the authors, as opposed to merely observing where they tend to write. In this case, then, we are looking broadly at the highly-educated: philosophers, scientists, and oftentimes even professors.

As one Reddit comment has put it in response to one of our amateurs in question: “A philosophy degree means you’re someone who had read a lot of it, including just about a whole gambit of Western philosophy from pre-Plato to material that was published last year, been forced to expand on a lot of it, and have had in depth discussions with a) peers who have done the same; and b) professors who have spent their whole life discussing/interpreting/writing philosophy.” (As the user in question has since deleted their account and can’t be identified, this should be fair to use as an example).

One can only imagine the effect this kind of education would have on someone’s style of writing, especially in comparison with our other group.

Amateurs are generally defined here as laypeople who are self-educated, either lacking formal, higher education or having higher education only in an unrelated, non-academic field (e.g. business management, agriculture). While a general secondary (or high school) education has its merits, I find that it is often insufficient in preparing students to think critically, objectively, and rationally, as well as training them properly for research and writing tasks.

The drawbacks of being self-educated

The main drawback is perhaps the most obvious: you can choose the kind of criticism you want to deal with. In other words, if you don’t like what you hear, you can ignore it or dismiss it using any of your favourite methods (this is a fan favourite). In addition, you can also choose who to pick fights with, picking easier, individual laypeople instead of trying to face a whole cohort of postgraduates.

Without peers and professors to discuss ideas with, without being required to submit your work for grading by experienced academics—without receiving useful criticism and feedback, without being made to stand behind your work instead of writing from behind an anonymous, disposable identity, without being forced to read far more widely than you might have otherwise, it becomes very easy to slide into a self-construed echo chamber.

Repeatedly defeating easy opponents can also degenerate into excessive, unwarranted hubris, along with avid participation in segregated, often-isolated communities (e.g. forums, subreddits, and Facebook groups so often referred to as echo chambers). Like in our comic above, if you look for the information you want to believe, you will find it. It doesn’t have to be the first link—you could even find yourself on the second or third pages of your already-specific search query and still use it to reinforce what you want to believe.

“Just because we agree doesn’t mean we’re right“

“If two people argue and the incorrect argument wins, then they have both lost.”

Most laypeople find themselves unable to sufficiently counter the arguments of an amateur dilettante or self-proclaimed expert, given that they tend to be far better at reasoning and arguments than the typical layperson, even if only more aggressive and logical-sounding. When threatened or about to lose, the amateur quickly takes advantage of their superior argumentative abilities to suppress their inexperienced interlocutor, often winning the argument and further convincing themselves of their prowess.

In a way, their choosy selection of targets draws the testability of their claims into question: what good is having a “300mm” camera zoom lens if you never go past 100mm? What if it doesn’t actually go to “300mm”? What if you actually have a prime (fixed) lens? What if what you have isn’t even a camera lens—what if… your argument is not what you think it is? What if you’ve been misled? If you don’t fully test it, all you can do is guess; no amount of pictures taken at 100mm will prove that you have a “300mm” zoom lens.

Will memorising Wikipedia’s list of fallacies be enough to circumvent these drawbacks? Do the these risks remain real even to those who are aware of their potential for these mistakes?

Dear readers, this is where I confess: I am exactly the kind of person I have just described. In the words of Louis C.K. when asked about his famous skit: “it was me“.

After years of mistakes, I have now become convinced that there is no proper substitute for higher education; no amount of independent reading and study has helped me escape from the intellectual deprivation of self-education, as there is a always a certain fundamental quality—or skill—that cannot be acquired from reading alone and continues to elude me—a certain literary… je ne sais quoi.

The Characteristics of our Fantastic Writings

This is where we get into stereotypes, and stereotypes necessitate a brief disclaimer: these traits are generalised and subjectively-evaluated according to my own experience. These traits alone do not define what each type should be like, nor do their presence prove that the writing in question is of a certain type.

I have seen many educated people who should know better, and some self-educated people who do know better, but these are the exceptions rather than the norm, and thus do not fall within the scope of our discussion (yet).

The general differences

I hope this (non-exhaustive) list helps illustrate the differences between the two main styles of writing one might come across while reading, especially in the age of the Internet where the latter is much more readily accessible.

All of these traits rest on a spectrum (think of all of them as sliders), with no pre-defined thresholds other than your own (though 50% is usually a safe middle). These are not fixed sides; one can lean towards amateur-style writing while still possessing many highly-educated traits, or one can sit right in the middle—neither amateur nor educated enough to belong to either side.

The Ivory Tower and Elitism

First off, this is a valid concern. Am I simply over-glorifying the revered intellectual prowess of academia? Does higher education actually provide tangible and significant benefits?

Is it really impossible to write like a doctorate on just self-education alone? Should we really aspire to be like them, or is our current writing perfectly adequate? Education is more accessible than ever, with the advent of MOOCs, advanced references like the SEP and Wikipedia, and countless other independent educators sharing their knowledge for free on the internet, so why should we continue to glorify the jaded products of academia?

Why should they get to decide what’s correct? Why should we be like them? Why do these snobbish people decide what counts as knowledge and what doesn’t?

What if their writing is actually nothing but pompous hot air? What if they only write the way they do because they’re trying to be “fancy” like the elitists they are?

My personal take and closing thoughts

Once again, I’ll be honest: I don’t know.

All I know, is that I don’t want to end up like the many amateurs on the internet—I don’t want to write like them, and I don’t want to be perceived like them, I don’t want to think like them.. Even if they get thousands of “upvotes” or “likes”, even if they garner massive support by telling the public what they want to hear, I don’t want to become like them.

I would rather be kicked aside as an arrogant, self-proclaimed martyr than give up on my intellectual conscience—knowing that just because I can win an argument doesn’t mean I’m right; knowing that not fully and sincerely affirming my knowledge to the best of my ability before trying to convince others of the same is the equivalent of intellectual dishonesty.

In this sense, I am a hypocrite, as I have my fair share of careless and emotionally-motivated beliefs, some even found on this very site, but I’m not saying that Nietzsche’s intellectual conscience is a practical way to live, only that I would live that way if I could. For the majority of people, myself included, it would be impossible to live without being at least slightly hypocritical and intellectually dishonest.

Regarding that article linked above by Jeremy Page, it serves as a convenient case in point for how a postgraduate would understand and write about Nietzsche compared to someone like me. In my current state, I cannot fathom being able to write something like that, let alone analyse it to that extent (and GS was one of the best books I’ve ever read).

Whenever I start wondering if I’m merely suffering from the Impostor Syndrome and my writing is perfectly adequate, I just pick up a book and all my doubts become cleared.