Nowadays, it seems the title ‘philosopher’ is applied quite liberally. For instance, some fans of Jordan Peterson think he’s a philosopher (and even one of the greatest modern philosophers). This is despite the fact that he’s never claimed to be one, his training is as a psychologist, and he misunderstands and mischaracterises philosophers and philosophical ideas all the time. Apparently, simply being recognised as an intellectual and speaking about philosophical ideas can make others think you’re a philosopher.
Yet there are others who self-identify as philosophers (such as in their social media bios), even though they don’t teach, write, or speak about philosophy in a public-facing way at all. This very loose use of the term is meant to signal that one is a ‘deep thinker’. I also find that – in its non-job context – the title ‘philosopher’ often appears in social media bios alongside other titles like ‘poet’, ‘artist’, ‘vagabond’, ‘shaman’, or ‘healer’. However, in the case of titles like ‘poet’, ‘artist’, or ‘vagabond’, one could claim to be these things if one regularly writes/publishes poetry, creates art, or travels without a fixed home, respectively.
But what would be the philosophical equivalent of these activities? Is it philosophising? If philosophising just means theorising about philosophical issues, does that make one a philosopher? If it does, that would dilute the term so much that the title would become meaningless. It would involve conflating an interest in philosophical topics with being a philosopher.
Poetry, art, and vagabonding involve doing something with a real, tangible result. One gains the title through a consistent practice. So, in a similar vein, perhaps a philosopher is anyone who regularly writes or speaks about philosophy. However, Peterson does this, and no academic philosopher would ever regard him as a genuine philosopher (even if we did accept this definition of a philosopher, this would just make Peterson a bad philosopher).
One might want to argue, perhaps in a snobbish way, that you can only be a philosopher if you think, write, or speak about philosophy well (this could mean being able to engage in philosophical texts and discussions, and/or being able to present original, genuinely philosophical ideas or arguments). However, many YouTubers, podcasters, and bloggers do precisely this, yet I would not personally regard them as philosophers.
For example, Alex O’Connor (previously known as Cosmic Skeptic) runs a popular YouTube channel and podcast (Within Reason) that regularly distills philosophical ideas, problems, and debates (in an engaging and cogent way). I also think O’Connor is well-equipped to talk with and debate academic theologians and philosophers on philosophical questions. In addition, he has earned a BA degree in philosophy and theology from Oxford University. Yet these skills and qualifications are not typically considered sufficient to earn the title of ‘philosopher’ in the academic sense. In spite of this, sometimes, when O’Connor appears on other podcasts, he is described as a philosopher. (O’Connor does not call himself a philosopher, as I think he recognises who does and doesn’t deserve the title, but the fact that others think of him as one illustrates what mean people think warrants the title: a passion for, and ability to talk about, philosophical ideas.)
To be recognised as a professional philosopher, this typically involves gaining a PhD (i.e. specialising in an area of philosophy), being able to teach philosophy in an academic institution, and being able to get philosophical work published in academic journals or as an academic book. Perhaps someone like O’Connor could be regarded as an amateur philosopher since he doesn’t yet hold a PhD or academic position in the field but still engages in valuable and rigorous philosophical inquiry. On the other hand, one might want to argue that an amateur philosopher – like an amateur poet or artist – should still be creating something original. O’Connor does offer original thought experiments, but (as far as I’m aware) he has not advanced unique philosophical positions, arguments, or theories. That’s not a point of criticism. As a communicator of philosophical ideas, he’s one of the best out there, but this skill does not, in and of itself, make one a philosopher.
Sam Harris is more commonly referred to as a philosopher, and he is comfortable referring to himself as one too. Yet many academic philosophers push back against the idea that he should be regarded as one. This is for the following reasons: he is not trained as a philosopher (he didn’t study the subject beyond a BA); he isn’t, and has never been, employed as a philosopher; and he doesn’t make contributions to the academic discipline of philosophy. On the other hand, some (there aren’t many) modern professional philosophers never gained a PhD (Saul Kripke is an oft-cited example). And while Harris isn’t employed as a philosopher at an academic institution and doesn’t publish papers in peer-reviewed philosophy journals, he has published books on philosophy: The Moral Landscape (2010), Lying (2011), and Free Will (2012).
Still, these books have been criticised for failing to engage with contemporary philosophical discourse, and Harris has admitted to ignoring such discourse. For many academic philosophers, this demonstrates why he shouldn’t be referred to as a professional philosopher. Experts in the field are expected to engage in contemporary philosophy (e.g. current debates/arguments related to free will and morality in Harris’s case). Furthermore, his books on philosophy aren’t typically discussed in an academic context, i.e. in university classes or academic papers or books. This is because, while they do present a defence of a philosophical position, these defences are not seen as original or rigorous in the way expected of a professional philosopher. As Emmy van Deurzen writes in her review of Free Will, “It is very dispiriting to read a book on a philosophical topic that fails to make the effort to do proper philosophy.”
Perhaps Harris could be regarded as an amateur philosopher rather than a professional one (although it’s understandable why one would not want to avoid referring to oneself as an ‘amateur’ if already recognised as a public intellectual). One might think that debating whether O’Connor or Harris is a philosopher is a form of snobbery, elitism, and gatekeeping – a way for academics to feel self-important in their ivory towers. Nevertheless, I can understand their frustration when the title of philosopher is used too loosely. Philosophy is a discipline, just like history, anthropology, or archaeology. Are you really a historian, anthropologist, or archaeologist if you simply enjoy reading, writing, and speaking on these topics? Normally, we would say this shows an interest in the topics, which might also involve great knowledge about, and skill in, communicating those topics to others. But this doesn’t necessarily make one an authority on a specific topic, nor does it mean one is engaged with, or contributing to, the subject as an academic discipline.
Combining a passion for a subject with an exciting proposal also doesn’t make one a historian, anthropologist, or archaeologist. This is why archaeologists regard Graham Hancock as a pseudoarchaeologist; he’s written books on the idea of a lost ancient civilisation, but actual archaeologists don’t regard his work as serious or up to their standards of evidence. This is why you won’t find Hancock’s books in the archaeology section in book stores, or at least you shouldn’t (e.g. in the big Foyles book shop on Charing Cross Road in London, there’s a dedicated pseudoarchaeology section that includes his books). Hancock claims this is all due to dogmatism in mainstream archaeology. However, while ideological narratives do exist in academic disciplines (in some more than others), it seems unlikely that nearly all archaeologists would be unconvinced by Hancock’s claims purely out of dogmatism or resistance to revising mainstream narratives.
But this is a bit of a tangent. The point is that publishing books on a particular subject doesn’t necessarily mean you deserve the title related to that subject (e.g. philosopher, historian, archaeologist, etc.). Pseudophilosophers, pseudohistorians, and pseudoarchaeologists exist because they speak and write authoritatively on subjects without gaining formal expertise or producing rigorous work. (You could, on the other hand, be an amateur historian, meaning you’ve engaged with primary and secondary sources, gained in-depth knowledge about a particular aspect of history, and had your work published, but, unlike a professional historian, you may not have had formal academic training and you don’t get paid for your work.) It is possible for someone to become a genuinely autodidactic (self-taught) philosopher, but this rarely happens. This involves many years of engaging with classic and contemporary philosophical works so that one is able to do original or rigorous philosophy oneself. Similarly, some people with only a BA in philosophy may go on to write philosophy papers or books, or teach philosophy at an academic institution, but this is also rare (it’d be more likely if that person had at least an MA).
While it is true that some of the most famous philosophers (e.g. Plato and Hume) lacked formal training, they lived in a time with a very different educational context from the one we live in now. Plato and Hume were able to dedicate their lives to reading, writing, and engaging in intellectual discussion, and they produced works considered important, serious, and original by the philosophical community at the time.
For better or worse, the title ‘philosopher’ carries certain connotations that a title like ‘historian’ or ‘anthropologist’ doesn’t. One negative connotation is the sort of person who, online, proclaims themselves to be a philosopher; so the title can sometimes be associated with a cringy sense of self-importance, that is, wanting to think of oneself as a deep thinker and hoping that others see you that way too. But if we’re talking about what makes someone a serious or professional philosopher, then, as noted above, it involves fulfilling similar conditions to what makes someone a serious or professional historian or archaeologist.
This is why I wouldn’t call myself a philosopher (the thought of doing so makes me cringe), and I’d also be uncomfortable if anyone else did. I have a BA in philosophy, I’ve written about philosophy for many years on this blog and for philosophy magazines, and I’ve published a book that deals with a lot of philosophical ideas. But none of this makes me a philosopher. I would say instead that I’m a writer interested in philosophy or that I write about philosophy. I think it’s important to make these distinctions, otherwise, it can lead to misconceptions about what a philosopher is and what they do.
