In this paper I suggest ways in which philosophy may suffer from a form of repression and go on to consider how this has been and may be resisted though, perhaps not, overcome. Philosophy will be approached as one might confront a much loved friend who from time to time, perhaps more often than not, loses her sense of humour. If one accepts that, at some level, we are our friends then this is also an indictment of the self. The possibility that philosophy may be some sort of pretentious illness can come to us in moments when we hear ourselves self-identify as philosophers (what a thing to say!), and when our arguments and meditations induce yawns or tears from others. Philosophy (and therefore philosophers, “all” of them/us?) can be stubborn, overly earnest, sanctimonious, sententious, moralising, and unwittingly detached from the ordinary concerns and experiences of the unafflicted. In short, philosophy can be “heavy” in the worst sense. It can be “uptight”. Philosophy’s ailments on this front may include the following; (1) a tendency to build walls (a timely metaphor?) around what counts as philosophy – I recall one prominent figure within philosophy of education declaring that Derrida was not a philosopher, (2) a particularly anaemic and abstract approach to moral issues in discussions of rights and capabilities; (3) a po-faced condemnation of any talk about “morality” on the grounds that such a notion is bound up with a hegemonic, imperialist and reactionary politics; (4) a tendency to hero-worship particular thinkers and elevate them to the status of idols; (5) the implied (or explicit) suggestion that if only people behaved more rationally then everything would be alright and; (6) writing as though Plato and Aristotle might be next door neighbours.

It is possible to recognise that such accusations  might be valid whilst  simultaneously holding the view that (1) there must be a sense in which some things count as philosophy whilst others do not; (2) a degree of abstraction cannot be avoided; (3) the debate over whether or not morality can be subsumed by politics is an important one; (4) some philosophers are more interesting and significant than others; (5) that “reason” should never be bypassed and; (6) Plato and Aristotle have plenty to say to our contemporary ways of living and being. To hold these views in tandem with a concern for the list of ailments mentioned earlier is to see philosophy at its worst (or worst behaved?) as an almost inevitable by-product of much that is good about it. Trying to say something meaningful, conducting deep explorations into the nature of what it is to be human and holding a torch for truth are worthy concerns. But, “worthiness” is not always used in a complimentary sense, and a commitment to high moral values is always a whisker away from haughtiness and moralism.

During the course of this paper, I will look at the ways in philosophers as varied as Nietzsche (1999), Williams (1981) and Cavell (1994 and 2005) offer moments of lightness that act as a kind of id to philosophy’s ego.   In this sense, they provide a form of moral education for philosophies that have lost (or failed to acquire) a sense of humour. I will then go on to draw on work by Richard Smith (2008) and Blake et al (2000) to argue that a similar lightness of touch can be a particularly powerful way of critiquing various educational trends which are sometimes taken too seriously by philosophers of education, or are perhaps taken seriously in the wrong way.  

Blake, N, Smeyers, P., Smith, R., and Standish, P. (2000). Education in an Age of Nihilism. London: Routledge. Cavell, S. (1994). A Pitch of Philosophy. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Cavell, S. (2005). Philosophy The Day After Tomorrow. Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press. Nietzsche, F. (1999). The Birth of Tragedy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Smith R. (2008). The Long Slide to Happiness. Journal of Philosophy of Education, 42: 559–573 White, J (2008). Illusory Intelligences. Journal of Philosophy of Education, 42 3-4. Williams, B. (1981) ‘Persons, Character and Morality’ In: James Rachels (ed.) Moral Luck. Cambridge University Press (1981)