In big block letters over the whiteboard, the poster read, “Good teachers don’t teach you what to think. They teach you how to think.” Even at 16, I knew my 10th-grade AP World History teacher embodied the message she had hung up in her classroom. She taught well, with respect for us and pride for her work, with the kindness and empathy to reach way back into the early days of history and teach us angsty adolescents a thing or two.
This style of teaching, which my favorite teachers throughout my public-school life demonstrated in every class, has always struck a chord with me. I learn best through example and experience, through diverse — and sometimes contradicting — role models who offer old methods and pioneer new strategies for tackling life’s challenges, successes and even mundanities. This is why I study philosophy.
As trite as it might sound, philosophy, its prominent thinkers and its present-day professors have taught me how to think, not what to think (and why that distinction is important). Philosophy keeps me grounded for several reasons. For one, it reminds me nothing is perfect.
Every philosophy course I’ve taken at UF demands my understanding of this notion of imperfection. I must explain each argument, carefully describe the evidence supporting it, and then turn around and find its holes. After I’ve sufficiently critiqued its weaker points, I must turn around again and defend the argument from my own objections. Only then can I determine which side I agree with. What’s not to love about a discipline that encourages analysis from all sides before evaluating one’s own stance? Further, what’s not to love about an academic branch that can admit its own faults?
Philosophy also promotes lines of thought I wouldn’t have considered before. Studying moral philosophy one semester emboldened me to consider three distinct, multi-faceted types of ethics and figure out for myself which I preferred. At the end of the course, I ended up favoring Aristotle’s virtue ethics — in case anyone was wondering — and this preference inspired me to think about how I could apply his moral philosophy to my own daily life. In effect, I tried to make Aristotle one of my role models (though he still isn’t perfect).
There are many more reasons I love philosophy, but in the interest of space I will end with just one more: Philosophy equips its students with another thinking strategy rather than just providing content to learn. It supports both measured, logically sound thought and in-the-moment analysis. I think of it like the central rule of improvisation: Always say “yes, and.” You’re allowed to object in order to take things in a new direction, but you can’t just say no and leave it at that. You keep thinking. You raise concerns and provide viable solutions. Philosophy has shown me the value of listening with an open mind, and then going on to speak my own.
My experience with philosophy is nowhere near over. Heck, I’ve loved philosophy so much lately that now I’m researching philosophy Ph.D. programs when I look up law schools. My goal in telling you this isn’t to convince you to abruptly change your major (I don’t believe I even have that power). These are simply words of encouragement for an era of disagreement. Take a lesson from philosophy: Disagreement doesn’t mean we can’t move forward. It just means we should know how to think first.
Mia Gettenberg is a UF philosophy and criminology and law junior. Her column appears on Mondays.