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Public debate should
be a lot better than
‘Question Time’
Eileen Reid
If you haven’t done so already, I do urge you to listen to a recent series of public discussions of current policy led by the Harvard political philosopher Michael Sandel, broadcast on BBC Radio 4.
‘The Public Philosopher’ is a panacea for the dire level of debate in UK politics. I wish we could persuade him to conduct a similar set of discussions here in Scotland on independence. At a time when the height of public debate in this country is set by ‘Question Time’, this series stands out as a brilliant example of what public debate can be when done properly.
Proper public debate is not simply a gathering of those who wish to voice the right to their own opinion on anything they choose. It is not simply about waiting your turn to say your piece. And it is certainly not about silencing your opponent by questioning their moral sincerity, character, past – as is so often done in this country. Mind you, nor should public debate be conducted on the creepy French model – where a group of ‘experts’, usually male, sit in a brightly lit circle swapping bon mots with their backs to an audience kept in the shadows. Sandel’s discussions are of a different nature. He guides his audience to analyse for themselves (or ‘deconstruct’ as they say) ethical dilemmas which underlie policy issues in a way which promotes deeper understanding of their own views, and those of others.
A couple of points about these discussions are worth mentioning. First, no one would know from listening to Sandel what he thinks about the issues being discussed. Of course he has views of his own but they are kept in the background. (If you want to know what he thinks, you can read his excellent book ‘Justice’ or listen to his memorable Reith Lectures in 2009). He recognises, wisely, that his views are not the point of these discussions. Rather, without expressing any opinion, Sandel guides the discussion in such a way as to ensure that the questions are explored rigorously, clearly and fruitfully. The reason why he succeeds is because he is a philosophically trained chairperson. As such, policy questions may not be resolved, but everyone understands the issues better for having participated in the discussion.
Indeed, the formulation of questions and their rigorous examination is the essence of understanding – which brings me to the second point. It is no surprise that Sandel is a professional philosopher, not a professional journalist, radio presenter or talk show host. The latter are good at getting people to express their opinions, and this can often be very entertaining: provoking an ill-considered or intemperate response from the public, usually by asking ill-considered and closed questions, makes for good ‘question time’. But it doesn’t make for good thinking, understanding or analysis of policy dilemmas.
So how does a trained philosopher, who does not express a view on the matter under discussion, manage to elicit deeper thinking? It is often said, and it has been said of Sandel, that the philosopher employs ‘the Socratic method’. But what does this gnomic pronouncement really mean?
Socrates famously claimed that he knew nothing of philosophical significance. In his conversations with fellow Athenians his contribution was confined to pointing out the difficulties with other people’s opinions. He never offered an answer of his own to the questions he posed. When asked about this curious habit Socrates replied that he was an intellectual mid-wife – that is, he helped others give birth to ideas but he could produce none himself.
The philosopher will offer a banality that under normal circumstances wouldn’t bear mentioning. But its importance lies precisely in its
banality – you wouldn’t dream of denying it.
The idea that a teacher should encourage students to produce their own answers to questions, rather than remember the answers provided by the set curriculum, has been the model of educational progressives from Rousseau to Dewey, and there is a lot to recommend it. But it does not accurately reflect what Socrates, or Sandel for that matter, is really doing. Socrates was not called a master of irony for nothing. And if this is not understood you can be left with the false impression that there are no ‘right’ answers to philosophical questions, or to the dilemmas underpinning public policy, just subjective opinions to be picked up or dropped according to taste.
Like Socrates, Sandel has well-developed views on the topics discussed in the Radio 4 series. But the point is not to inform others of his views, but to get others to think hard for themselves. Both Socrates and Sandel achieve this by raising considerations, pertinent to the question, that are usually missed.
What kind of considerations? First, philosophers often appear to do no more than offer reminders of points everyone knows already. It usually goes like this: in the course of the conversation you make a substantive claim about an issue, and the philosopher will say: ‘That’s very interesting, and important; but have you considered such and such…?’.
The philosopher will offer a banality that under normal circumstances wouldn’t bear mentioning. But its importance lies precisely in its banality – you wouldn’t dream of denying it. Then it dawns on you that it is not just banal; it also contradicts your original substantive claim. You are then left with some thinking to do. Your original claim seems right, but it contradicts another claim which also seems right. In philosophy, the beginning of thinking lies in recognising such contradictions, and it is part of the philosopher’s task to bring them to light: this is the crux of the Socratic method.
The goal of philosophical thinking is resolving contradictions. But how? Sometimes a contradiction can be resolved by simply giving up one of the claims of the contradictory pair. But usually the contradiction plagues us because we don’t know which claim to abandon as both seem right. It is here that the art of drawing distinctions comes into its own. Drawing distinctions often allows you to ‘save’ both claims by modifying or qualifying them in some respect. Recognising distinctions is the real forte of philosophers. In fact it has been argued, plausibly, that drawing distinctions is the principal contribution philosophers make to the general philosophical economy (Gary Gutting, ‘What Philosophers Know’).
By bringing us back to basic principles (the banal reminders), and by drawing the relevant distinctions, philosophers can help us to learn how to think through an issue without ever having to tell us what to think. This is the beauty of philosophy – education without dictation. And their practitioners make for excellent discussion and debate.

Eileen Reid is head of widening participation, Glasgow School of Art,
writing here in a personal capacity
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