I came to philosophy somewhat by accident. I am from a bureaucratic, military-dominated area of Northern Virginia; almost everyone I went to high school with went into IT, the military, defense R&D, or sales. When I was invited to an after-school seminar club, “The Dead Philosophers’ Society,” by a history-buff friend of mine, I initially resisted (writing this, I now realize I still have never seen Dead Poets’ Society). I had no idea what an after-school seminar discussing ‘philosophy’ entailed; I did not even know what the involved questions would be.
I am glad I went, in part because I quickly realized there was something very interesting here, even if the other high schoolers did not know much, either. The initial session was not very organized, but the idea of the group was student-led discussions on various topics. The first day was deciding the future topics, of which “ethics” was chosen. So, I became interested in what “ethics” even was. Exploring online, I found what would be my philosophical starting point: John Stuart Mill. The questions he asked and the answers he offered were the first time I seriously engaged with philosophy.
By the time I went to undergrad, Mill was not so central anymore, but I was interested in philosophy and law. At some point in those years, I realized practicing law was not for me, so I went to graduate school at Indiana University to pursue my doctorate. While I love my department, my time in graduate school has been mixed: the pandemic hit my first spring here, then there was the massive 2022 graduate workers strike, then there was the encampment, featuring a sniper on the top of the IMU, and those are just some highlights.
As I approach the end of my time in graduate school, I want to look back and share two lessons I think others would benefit from hearing: (1) remember that you belong, and (2) embrace the value of philosophy, especially in trying times.
The first. I have more than once had other philosophers express surprise at the very thought of having conservative family members. I have had to remind myself that growing up around combat amputees is unusual. I have had some people joke that I was the most likely of my program to go into the military, only because of my background and in spite of others who do or have done both (unlike myself).
Over the years, I have found my people. Honestly, I suspect many of my fellow graduate students will be surprised to hear of these experiences, but I did experience them and I did have to learn to deal with them. And in difficult times, those moments were all the rougher.
It is easy to feel out of place in graduate school. You will have peers who come from academic families, and you will have peers who do not. Differences are everywhere: learn to spot them, reflect on them, and they will make you not just a better philosopher but a better, more cognizant person. And this speaks to the value of philosophy: philosophy is a means to the reflective life, and the reflective life leads us to be better people.
The second. I have come to be frustrated by professional philosophers who fail to see the value in what they do. If we are asking about the value of endless academic research, or teaching overly watered down introductory courses, or endless committee meetings within academia, fine; however, doubting philosophy’s value while getting to make a living from it strikes me as coming from an incredibly socially privileged position. The institutions of academia are one matter, the opportunity to bring philosophy to others is another.
Part of what I mean by this is that getting to have the experience of even working in a professional philosophy department is, itself, an incredible opportunity. During various personal struggles, I have never lost sight of that, even as I considered dropping out during the pandemic.
The value of philosophy is at least the value of the unique personal connections and growth that philosophy done as part of a community offers us. When I hear professional philosophers questioning the value of philosophy, I also hear a question of the value of inquiry, community, and growth in the face of uncertainty and critique. Those skills, skills we can foster in ourselves and others, are essential to helping build a better world, one lesson in reason and humility at a time.
Sure, not all philosophy seems to do this: we disagree on what philosophical work is worth pursuing. But those disagreements, too, are telling. And the opportunity to explore the depths of human disagreement and the reasons why we all believe what we do… that is why I fell in love with philosophy, even from a now distant shore.
Joshua Paschal
Joshua Paschal (he/him) is a doctoral candidate and currently Nelson Dissertation Fellow at Indiana University. His dissertation research is on the philosophy of criminal law, more specifically the setting of standards, the negligence debate, and the hate crimes debate.
