“Cognitive Poker Departments”? Competitiveness and philosophy (guest post)
Is philosophy a particularly competitive discipline? How? Is its competitiveness a problem? If so, what could we do about it? In the following guest post, Christina Easton, British Academy Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Warwick, addresses these and related questions.
“Cognitive Poker Departments”? Competitiveness and Philosophy
by Christina Easton
In his memoirs The factory of a philosopher (2003), Colin McGinn describes his experiences of philosophical debate as involving
a clash of analytically honed intellects, with throbbing egos attached to them…Philosophical discussion can be a kind of intellectual blood sport, in which egos are bruised and twisted, even impaled…Mere show-off is also a feature of philosophical life.
Commenting on this in his own memoirs Minerva’s Owl (2007), Mary Midgley criticizes this “competitive conception of philosophy”, joking that (since, in her opinion, it could be detrimental to the basic enterprise of philosophy) these activities could be practiced outside of philosophy, in the “Departments of Cognitive Poker, or institutes of one-upmanship”.
To what extent does this “competitive conception of philosophy” still dominate today? And what a place should contest to occupy in philosophy? (These issues are addressed in a new open-access special issue on the subject in the philosophy review at school.)
There is an obvious sense in which philosophy is highly competitive, and that is in the sense that the university, in general, is highly competitive: we compete against each other for scholarships, jobs, financing, etc. Philosophy may stand out as more competitive than other disciplines here, due to factors such as less availability of funding and more people exclusively seeking academic jobs after a PhD. But what about the practice to do academic philosophy? Do the norms and practices of philosophy stand out from other disciplines as being particularly competitive?
One increasingly discussed way in which the philosophy might stand out as competitive is its emphasis on combative dialogue. This is evidenced by the language of competition and battles that we use to describe what happens, for example, during Q&As following research discussions. We “attack, aim and demolish an adversary” (Haslanger). Arguments suffer from “fatal flaws” and are “shot down” by counter-arguments (Rooney).
When combative dialogue in philosophy is highlighted as problematic, note that it is usually not the contradictory method itself that is “attacked”. Given the distinct subject of philosophy that tackles particularly intractable questions that are often not answered by empirical evidence, presenting arguments and getting people to identify the ways in which those arguments go wrong is integral to what it is. is to do philosophy. The problem is more related to the way in which this feedback on the arguments is given. Counter-arguments are often presented in a fussy and competitive manner, so as to make the speaker seem stupid and the interlocutor superior. Post-presentation Q&As can involve relentless attacks on the case just presented by the speaker, with the primary goal of audience members being to find faults – any faults, however minor – in what comes. to be said, in order to prove the speaker wrong. These “competitive attacks are endless” (Friedman); the back and forth of argument is expected to continue until one member “surrenders”, in which case, someone has “won” and someone has “lost” .
If there is an atmosphere of competition in philosophy, why could this be problematic?
First, there’s Midgley’s fear that competitive behaviors might get in the way of what philosophy is. really in regards to. If we think of philosophy as a search for wisdom or the pursuit of truth, then we might worry that research seminars dominated by verbal admonitions between competing individuals might get in the way. Competition encourages epistemically vicious modes of conduct; for example, grandstanding and one-upmanship can divert attention away from the search for truth and focus on individuals who are making the case.
Second, and as I argue in a recently published open access article, competitive standards could be bad for philosophy by contributing to a lack of gender diversity within the discipline. One of the main reasons is that competing standards can lead women to do less well in philosophy than they otherwise would. Research indicates that performing a task in a competitive setting tends to make men perform better than they would have if the task had not been competitive, while it tends make women less successful. Women also tend to have more negative attitudes towards competition, in part due to their tendency for lower confidence (which I think is, independently, an explanatory factor for the gender gap). gender in philosophy). If women tend to enjoy competition less, this could (for example some women) lead them to see questions and answers on research interviews as trials to be endured rather than as a pleasant game or competition.
Yet even if the research is flawed and in fact these gender differences do not exist, stereotypes that say women are not competitive can have pernicious effects. First, they can lead to “backlash effects” against women who exhibit counter-stereotypical traits. Women who enjoy and demonstrate skill in “intellectual blood sport”—and perhaps even engage in some “exhibition”—may be the object of hostility, which results in less opportunities and less pleasure in participating in philosophy. Second, competition norms in philosophy combined with gender stereotypes related to competitiveness can lead people to develop contradictory schemas (implicit and often unarticulated sets of expectations) for ‘philosophers’ and ‘women’. This can contribute to women feeling like they don’t belong in the discipline and therefore choose not to continue (or start) philosophy.
If this is true, and there are major downsides to a competitive atmosphere in philosophy, what could we do to make competition a less dominant feature of the practice of academic philosophy?
One thing we could do is improve the way we engage with each other, for example by working to eliminate norms where it is acceptable to relentlessly attack a presenter or nitpick to prove that someone one is wrong. (This might be particularly helpful for the issue of gender diversity we just discussed, since research indicates that the gender gap is widest in competitions that reward stereotypically male traits such as aggression. ) In this area, the philosophy has already improved: people are less impolite and dominating a discussion tends to be frowned upon. As Helen Beebee writes in her recent assessment of what has changed in philosophy over the past decade, “people are just being nicer to each other.”
But note that being nicer to each other does not completely solve the above-noted issues with competition. Even when feedback is delivered in a polite manner, alongside smiles and compliments on paper, the competitive element remains. To borrow a few words from Joseph Trullinger, it simply makes it more of a gentleman’s duel as opposed to a unsportsmanlike war. The idea of one standing up in front of an audience and defending one’s point of view in an attempt to “win” them amid criticism from the crowd is still very much alive.
Is this element of competition and “duel” simply inherent in philosophy? After all, examining arguments is the key to philosophy (at least, in its mainstream practice in today’s academy), and arguments can be won or lost. Perhaps then it is the “throbbing egos” attached to the arguments that are the problem. It is our tendency to clean an opinion or an argument, to see them as things to be defended at all costs under pain of honor, it is problematic. If instead we refocused on our shared mission of uncovering truth or wisdom, then that element of competition might lessen – we’d be glad to be wrong.
A practical way towards this change could be to use more group-oriented language when engaging in dialogue. For example: “Maybe this could help we solve this problem if we witnessed…” Or: “In the light of X, we may need to revise our thinking about Y…”
We could also try to lessen the need to “pick a side”. When we ask undergraduate students to state their thesis when they present their paper, we might emphasize that this thesis need not be that any particular side of the debate won out. Instead, it could identify which argument is the biggest threat to a theory, for example. When reviewing for reviews, we might be more open to articles that do not argue a particular point of view, but rather shed new light on an issue and acknowledge its complexity, before raising some questions that arise from the reflections.
On this last point we can draw inspiration from Elizabeth Anscombe, of whom Bernard Williams recalled:
she made someone realize that being smart wasn’t enough. The Oxford philosophy, and this is still true to some extent, had a great tendency to be intelligent. …there were a lot of competitive dialectical exchanges, and showing that the others were wrong. I was pretty good at it all. But Elisabeth conveyed a strong sense of the seriousness of the subject, and how the subject matter was difficult in a way that just being clever wasn’t going to get around.
Maybe if, like Anscombe, we took a little more philosophy seriously, as a genuine attempt to try and improve our understanding, then we wouldn’t be so prone to slip into “rough play”, because philosophy wouldn’t be a game at all. If it’s about trying to explore important but difficult issues, it is not necessary to have an opinion and stick to it. Instead, we should gladly give up a point of view when we find that the weight of the argument takes us elsewhere, and we shouldn’t be ashamed of it. If more of us could have this attitude – something unfortunately modern academic practices push back – it would reduce the emphasis on individual competition and individual achievement.
I would be very interested to hear in the comments what people think. Does philosophy stand out in academia as having an atmosphere of competition? If yes, is this a problem? I’ve focused here on the downsides of competition, but are there upsides to competition and competitive atmospheres that might mean that overall it’s a good thing? If this is problematic, what could we do to improve things?