What Is It Like to Be a Philosopher: Sam Woolfe

The APA blog is working with Cliff Sosis of What is it Like to Be a Philosopher? in publishing advance excerpts from Cliff’s long-form interviews with philosophers.

The following is an edited excerpt from the new interview with Sam Woolfe.

In this interview, Sam Woolfe talks about growing up in north London, Pokémon, an early desire to be an archeologist, the God Delusion, the Tractatus, Korn, teenage drinking, Marilyn Manson, his emo phase, Evil Dead 2, going to Durham to study philosophy, taking classes with E.J. Lowe, developing an interest in philosophy of psychiatry, going vegan, not pursuing a grad degree in philosophy, blogging, backpacking around the world, freelancing in the ChatGPT era, writing about philosophy for the public without a PhD, what Sam Harris and Saul Kripke have in common, imposter syndrome and overconfidence, personality and philosophy, the philosophical and therapeutic significance of mescaline, mysticism, his forthcoming book, Altered Perspectives: Critical Essays on Psychedelic Consciousness, reducetarian approaches to animal ethics, Martin Buber, the films of Chantal Akerman and the Dardennes brothers, Philip Goff on Twitter, and his last meal…

What did you want to be when you grew up?

I remember in school, I can’t remember what age exactly, maybe around 7, we had to write down what we wanted to be when we were older. I put down ‘archaeologist’. I’m not sure why exactly. I think I just liked the idea of digging in the dirt and finding something there.

Same. Favorite classes?

My favorite classes when I got to Sixth Form and did A-Levels (in the UK, that’s ages 16-18) were Philosophy and English Literature, more so philosophy because of the topics we were studying. Because both were based around essay writing, I think that’s when I discovered I was good at something for the first time. I ended up doing better in English Literature than in Philosophy, but it was the latter that kept my interest, so that’s what I chose to study at university.

Extracurriculars?

Outside of school, I was an avid reader. The first serious book I decided to read (not because I had to for school) was Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion, and that pretty much landed me in the staunch atheist and anti-religion camp, but it also got me into reading generally. After that, I read books on a range of subjects: evolutionary biology, religion, physics, philosophy, spirituality, history, and different types of fiction. Some of the first philosophy texts I read (outside school) were Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil and Wittgenstein’s Tractatus (the latter of which was probably a bit too heavy and inscrutable at that age, although I thought I grasped some of it).

Teenage shenanigans?

Fun for me as a teenager pretty much involved getting drunk with friends and going to gigs.

I sometimes got into trouble at school. I remember starting Secondary School (at around 11), and during class once I jumped out the window (it wasn’t very high), then came back into class and did the same thing again. It was an all boys’ school and there was a lot of behavior like that. I also got suspended because a group of us got drunk in school; some of us got found out (including myself), so a friend and I had to go into school, not to attend classes but to help out the groundsmen with some tasks. To be honest, a lot of the trouble (as well as fun) I got into involved drinking; nothing serious happened, but it involved stuff like being in parks late at night and getting kicked out by police or police raiding a house party that got out of hand.

How were you different from, or similar to, your friends and family?

I was quieter than my other friends. My dad is more on the quiet side too, whereas my mum is much more extroverted. But I do share both sides of them; I think I have my mum’s silly sense of humor. My younger brother is similar to me in some ways: pretty chill, although a bit on the cheekier side, and we differ in terms of our interests.

World events that informed your worldview?

I don’t remember if world events featured large in my life growing up. But I do have a distinct memory of being in Primary School when the attack on the Twin Towers occurred. I didn’t really comprehend the magnitude of what had happened, but I do remember adults being very shocked when the news broke. There was a real commotion about it.

Music?

From about age 11, I started listening to rock and metal music. The first album I ever bought was Korn’s second album, Life is Peachy. I distinctly remember being in a music store with my mum, picking out the album, and asking if I could get it. She asked an employee whether she thought it would be suitable for me, and he assured her the ‘Parental Advisory Explicit Content’ label was nothing to worry about. So I think now, God bless that guy. I don’t know if he actually listened to the album, but it’s one of those albums (like Korn’s first album) where ‘explicit content’ is far from an exaggeration. After that, I got heavily into Marilyn Manson, like obsessed with his music. I got all his albums, his autobiography and biography, T-shirts, posters. So I had a quasi-goth phase (someone in the year above me at Secondary School called me ‘micro goth’). I wore baggy black goth trousers and big goth boots at one point (but not for long). My goth/grunger phase eventually morphed more into an emo/scene kid phase, where I wore skinny jeans, New Era hats, Nike Dunk High Tops, and (embarrassingly) straightened my hair. I was listening to the classic emo bands at the time (My Chemical Romance, Taking Back Sunday, Hawthorne Heights, Funeral for a Friend, The Used, Alexisonfire, Silverstein, Finch, From First to Last) and then eventually got into heavier music like deathcore (bands like Bring Me The Horizon, Suicide Silence, Whitechapel, Carnifex, Despised Icon, All Shall Perish). I definitely feel a lot more nostalgia (and appreciation) for the emo bands than the deathcore ones. It was definitely fun (and also cringeworthy, thinking about the MySpace days) being part of the emo/scene kid subculture in London.

I was way too into Manson for too long. Movies?

I was into horror films as a teenager. The Evil Dead was my all-time favorite horror film. I loved the low-budget feel, over-the-top gore, and the very Sam Raimi stylistic elements. I really enjoyed Evil Dead 2 as well for cranking up the camp, cheesy lines, and dark comedy. The only horror film that disturbed me was The Exorcist, which I watched when I was too young I think (pre-teenager). I watched it again when I was a bit older and found it was pretty silly and almost like a parody of my memory of watching it the first time. And then I watched it a third time a couple of years ago and felt it was a brilliant film, masterfully created and well deserving of its title as one of the greatest horrors ever made. As a kid, I also bought a collection of the Nightmare on Elm Street films and enjoyed other horrors like Halloween, The Omen, and The Blair Witch Project. Space Jam stands out to me as a film I watched as a kid.

Who doesn’t like Evil Dead? TV?

Growing up, I loved SpongeBob SquarePants, and probably felt that encapsulated my humor a lot at the time. I also spent a lot of time watching The Simpsons and Futurama.

College?

I applied to 5 different universities to study philosophy, which I basically picked purely for academic rankings, generally and for philosophy specifically (rather than other factors like location, city, and how fun the student life was meant to be): Cambridge, Bristol, Durham, Edinburgh, and St Andrews. I didn’t get into Cambridge so accepted an offer for my second choice (Durham).

Favorite classes? Inspirational teachers?

At university, my favorite classes were applied ethics and philosophy of psychiatry. I was actually lucky enough to have logic classes with E.J. Lowe, and had dinner with him at my college, Castle College, which he belonged to. Unfortunately, I was terrible at logic and it didn’t appeal to me that much. But for the philosophy of psychiatry classes, which I did take an interest in, I had Matthew Ratcliffe as a lecturer, who has made some important and fascinating contributions to the phenomenology of mental distress (such as depression). One of my favorite papers I got to write, as part of that module, was comparing religious experiences with psychotic episodes, and looking at the similarities and differences. We also explored the phenomenology of depression, which I found very helpful, having experienced depression myself. It was probably the first time I had read so many well-described, first-hand accounts of the experience. The animal ethics aspect of applied ethics was personally very influential for me. We read Peter Singer’s essay ‘All Animals Are Equal’, and I was entirely convinced of the reasoning and moral arguments for abandoning meat. So I did. I went vegetarian for a few months, and then—upon watching footage of dairy and egg factory farms, and realizing Singer’s arguments applied equally to these industries—I went vegan. I’ve been vegan for 14 years now, and underlying the lifestyle is the kind of reasoning and ethical motives I learned about at uni (I may not be a strict utilitarian like Singer but I still appreciate his consequentialist arguments).

Hurdles?

Obstacles were definitely mental health-related. I struggled with depression during the initial months of my first year. The experience of being in a new city, away from friends and family, felt quite isolating when going through those difficulties. Also, Durham was a very small city compared to London, and I found the culture or cliques at the university quite hard to relate to: there was a laddy culture—but the posh version of that, maybe quite homogenous in the sense that I struggled to meet people with similar interests, attitudes, and taste in music. I did make friends though and had a consistent social group. If I could go back, I’d probably drink less, smoke weed less often, and attend more of my lectures and seminars (rather than just rely on online materials and textbooks). It’s kind of crazy to think that I accrued all that student debt, which went to classes I was often absent from.

High points?

Highlights were probably the parties, some of the gigs and nights out (including in Newcastle, which was far better for music), the independence, and developing my writing more with the essay writing I had to do.

How did your understanding of philosophy change?

My understanding of philosophy developed based on the range of subjects covered, being introduced to subdisciplines like medical ethics, philosophy of psychiatry, and philosophy of science. New texts introduced me to problems in philosophy I hadn’t considered: I remember reading, for instance, parts of Derek Parfit’s classic Reasons and Persons, and being introduced to discussions surrounding personal identity. The essay writing, and feedback from professors, also helped me to see flaws in reasoning and argumentation, and so become better at both, as well as structuring essays.

Did you consider doing anything else?

I did an elective module in anthropology in my first year, which I think I found equally as fascinating as philosophy, and did fairly well with the essays and exams. I could imagine studying that subject again. It also intersects with philosophy in many ways. I’d probably lean more towards social and cultural anthropology than the biological side, but I’m also interested in evolutionary perspectives on human experience and behavior, so I can imagine getting really into that aspect too. Currently, I’m fascinated by discussions surrounding animism, shamanism, perspectivism, and the ontological turn.

What did your parents make of your decision to study philosophy?

I don’t know if my parents said much about my decision to study philosophy, to be honest. Fortunately, they weren’t the kind of Jewish parents who had a strong wish for me to study medicine, law, or some other subject associated with high status or high earnings (thanks mum and dad!). So it did feel like I was pretty much free to make up my own mind with that kind of stuff—what I studied, and what kind of work I wanted to pursue.

Philosophical virtues and vices?

My strengths, academically, were writing skills—the professors would often say the essays were written well. The weaknesses would be stuff like not adequately backing up an argument (leaving it prone to criticism). I became better at philosophy by trying to consider more counterarguments, steel man counterarguments, take into account fallacies, think more critically, rely on evidence, and temper my conclusions rather than make strong conclusions based on my personal biases (while also being comfortable expressing my own views). I also benefited from better understanding the real-life implications of philosophy (in applied ethics, e.g. biomedical ethics, environmental ethics, animal rights) and having opportunities to challenge my assumptions (about consciousness, the self, science, and fundamental reality).

What was the plan after college?

I didn’t have any life goals, to be honest, none that I can remember at the time. I was pretty much just focused on socializing and reading. I also had no plan after my degree while I was studying. I didn’t know what path to take, so I considered continuing in academia, just as it felt like something productive or worthwhile I could do. My memory of the timeline is a bit hazy (of what came first), but I did apply to study Global Ethics & Human Values MA at King’s College London after graduating. I got accepted but decided not to go ahead (I guess I didn’t feel a massive draw to it; it seemed like I would be getting myself into more debt for no reason since I didn’t see a path I wanted to take, or could imagine taking, after completing the MA). I ended up doing odd jobs soon after graduating. I remember applying for an MA again (the same or a similar one at King’s), got accepted, but ultimately decided again it wasn’t for me. I did continue writing, though. I created a blog in 2012 where I wrote about philosophy, ethics, religion, psychedelics, and politics (the blog is still active to this day, although it’s certainly evolved beyond the basic Blogspot version I used to have). I also contributed articles voluntarily to a political site (it was libertarian-leaning, which I felt drawn to at the time, although I covered a range of subjects, not always with a libertarian bent). At that time, I was pretty active with writing, especially for my blog, and felt motivated to keep doing it. I eventually started to gain traffic, readers, comments, shares, Google search results—all of which kept up my drive.

First gig after college?

My first paid job was at a call center—making the most of my philosophy degree!—but the experience left a sour taste in my mouth. I was an ‘appointment booker’, cold calling people about their life insurance, trying to get them to speak to an insurance broker. I did admin for a few companies, and an internship as a runner for the BBC’s science program Dara O Briain’s Science Club. That was pretty fun: I got to help with the running of the show, including doing research that was used on the program, and seeing what went into making it. I also got to meet Michio Kaku and Max Tegmark (well, I basically just told Kaku I was a fan of his books and asked for a photo, and I asked Tegmark if I could get him anything to drink). I also did some trips abroad on my own after university. The first was a group tour of Vietnam and Cambodia (this trip really gave me the travel bug, although I wasn’t the biggest fan of the organized aspect of it; I really wanted to go off on my own, and was typically the only one who did when we had free days). After that, I traveled around southern Mexico on my own for a month. I stayed in private accommodation (I felt too averse to the idea of hostels at the time), so it felt lonelier than the Southeast Asia trip. But I still made some connections with locals and fellow travellers, and loved everything about the country, especially the archaeological sites. It remains my favorite country to this day. After that, I got my first ‘proper’ job, working full-time as a news researcher. This basically involved helping to plan the news calendar used by journalists, tracking all the important events, reports, government meetings, etc. that would be occurring in the year ahead.

Backpacking life lessons?

There were a lot of lessons learned from backpacking in my 20s. I learned the advantages of being more open and receptive to strangers, and became enthusiastic about meeting people from all kinds of cultural backgrounds and ways of life. I brought that attitude back with me. I do find myself becoming more closed off once back in London and the UK, I think for reasons of familiarity, culture, and city life, but I’ve still sought to meet new people through Meetup events. When solo backpacking, the only options are to initiate conversations with strangers (or being open to them) or spend the whole time alone. So, it does kind of force a new social confidence. It’s like exposure therapy for social anxiety in many ways.

One important lesson was how culturally specific the UK was: seeing both the positives and negatives—what I liked and disliked—in a way that was newly stark and apparent. I came to appreciate British humor a whole lot more, and the city of London a lot more as well, feeling grateful for how global it is, and how it is one of the few truly global cities in the world. Of course, I appreciated lots about other cities and countries I visited, but backpacking did also help to highlight what London and the UK has to offer. Going away is a way of seeing what makes home ‘home’. Cultural negatives about the UK I noticed, however, were the constant, heavy drinking, and the reliance on alcohol for socializing. Others would include British cynicism (as a general attitude, not as a form of humor, which I do like and indulge in), and also things like constant small talk/moaning about the weather, the ‘crabs in a bucket’ mentality, and often a lack of emotional openness and directness.

If I were to offer a more philosophical angle on backpacking, I can relate to a lot of what the Stoic philosophers had to say about travel, viewing the urge to ‘get away’ as often escapist. Traveling is certainly not a way to fix personal problems or achieve lasting peace of mind. I think later in my 20s, the urge to go backpacking had more of that escapist tendency; I’d enjoy the trips less because I’d be carrying mental baggage with me, or even if I didn’t, when I returned, I’d lose the carefree, confident self I gained when I was abroad. I initially saw solo backpacking as great for self-development, which it was in many ways, but I think it was naïve to see it as a solution to negative feelings. So, as Seneca and Epictetus advise, I try to question my motivation to travel: whether it’s coming from a wish to escape myself (which is doomed to fail) or a healthier motive like the need to rest, novelty seeking, knowledge seeking, or to have awe-inspiring experiences in nature. What I think the Stoics missed was how some people have higher novelty-seeking needs than others, and many psychologists are starting to see novelty as a basic psychological need. So I’m not convinced by the idea that leading a virtuous life at home and never traveling would be as fulfilling—for many people—as punctuating that same life with lots of travel.

The hardest lesson of backpacking is probably that the positive feelings I felt on one trip can’t be replicated, no matter how much I’d like that to be otherwise. I was a different person in my mid-20s. I was open to, and enthusiastic about, staying in hostels and hanging around other backpackers all the time. I had more energy, I felt more carefree, and I didn’t mind the lack of privacy in dorms or being sleep-deprived. Maybe I’m a bit more jaded now, but I’m less interested in meeting other backpackers (and having those same conversations), and over time, I found staying in dorms more irritating than enjoyable.

I’ve learned to feel grateful for the solo traveling I did, especially a round-the-world trip, which gave me a lot of great memories, as well as a newfound appreciation for nature and different cultures. I’ve also come to see how lucky having those opportunities were; it’s a privilege most people in the world don’t have.

If you could go back in time, and give yourself advice, what would it be?

If I could go back in time, I’d probably give myself more self-compassion when I was struggling, and advise myself to reach out for help when I needed it the most, rather than isolate myself.

The full interview will be available at What Is It Like to Be A Philosopher?  You can get early access to interviews and support the project here.