Who's your favorite philosopher? Or: What Questions Not To Ask A Philosopher - Part I

Lately people have been asking me what my favorite philosopher is. For different reasons. Some to try to debunk that person's theories, others want to know where I get my stuff from. Others ask because, well, maybe they just want to find out what has made me crazy, and make sure to avoid it...

I normally like questions that seem to originate in some kind of curiosity. But I find myself not just unable to answer that question, but unwilling. Why?

Philosophy is about asking questions, right?

Often you hear people define philosophy as 'asking questions' or 'questioning life'. In classrooms you often hear the teacher say: there are no wrong questions. True. Any question is valid. But not being wrong, doesn't make it right.

So, no. Philosophy is not simply about asking questions. Philosophy is interested in finding out what the right questions are. It's about asking questions right. Which is also much more difficult, than simply asking questions. Any bot could come up with an endless amount of questions. But meaningful, thought-provoking, life-questioning, discourse-impeding, brain-shattering questions... those are rare.

But not as rare as you might think. This week I've been teaching philosophy to artists, art students, and art therapists. I try to teach them epistemological experimentation, or make them reconsider what it means to see something. Fun stuff. But what those students often don't realise is that what they ask me is genius. The questions they ask in their struggle to understand whatever gibberish I've been firing at them, are more thought-provoking than most comments on steemit. (Sorry guys.) Why?

Is it about answers?

I don't really know why certain questions are different from all the other questions. (For those interested in meta-questions: I'm also not sure if this question itself is one of those 'right' questions or not.) But one thing that is certain, is that the 'right' question makes it impossible to simply give an answer. With those students, I often find myself smiling at them, realising the grandiose nature of their question and that they themselves have no idea. What is often the case in those instances, is that they want to know something specific, but ask a general question, that questions an underlying principle. After I smile, I normally give them the specific answer they are looking for. Unless...

Unless they get me going. And they I go off on a spree, introduce them to things that actually confuse them even more, and I loose their attention and they vow to themselves never to take another stupid philosophy class because their friends were actually right...

I know, I'm working on it, I try to keep them in mind. Which is what I said, I normally just give them a specific answer that satisfies them enough and that clarifies whatever has gotten them confused.

Picture I took at Art Basel, Summer 2017

Ok, but what about your favourite philosopher?

So, yes. When I keep myself in line, not wander off into the depths of hardcore philosophy, when I seem sane enough, people I talk to then ask me who my favourite philosopher is. Of all available questions, this one is not the right questions. Why?

Why favourite?

What does it mean to be a favourite? Is that someone who is completely aligned with your thinking? Or is it someone that has made you laugh? Someone you wish they'd still be alive so you would be able to hold actual conversations with them? Or is it someone you so completely disagree with, that he/she makes you grunt and keep on thinking and writing until you figure out exactly what it is that makes them so wrong? Or is it someone who is easy to understand? Or is it someone you like best because if people ask you to explain what they thought, you are able to do so?

Why a Philosopher?

Why does it have to be a philosopher? Do you mean a man, a woman? What do you mean with 'philosopher'? Someone who thinks for a living? Someone who has a job title featuring 'philosopher'? Someone who has written books? Someone that is famous? Someone that is dead? There are people who don't want to be considered a philosopher (Hannah Arendt), do they count? Or can only philosophers be inspiring? What makes you think that philosophers ask good questions?

Picture taken at African American History Museum, Washington DC, Autumn 2016.

Intention

What is your intention? A question always has a direction. Any question sets some sort of limits as to what you can answer. I tend to make fun of those limits, or stretch them as far as possible. But they will still be there. This intentionality, as phenomenologists would call it, reverberates in the question itself. Like intonation, but it is even true in written communication that consists of nothing but the question.

So, it's not a great question. But why not simply answer it and be done with it? Cliffhanger! I'll discuss that in part II.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for asking me questions right. Or right questions.
Let me know what you think in the comments below. What questions you hate getting? Which questions do you refuse to answer?