The return of the big idea: Making philosophy cool again.

Today is World Philosophy Day, but it’s become clear to me that we’re woefully bad at big thinking, so we’ll probably waste our day on small thinking (again). Yes, I’m feeling feisty because UNESCO told me I could. So pay attention, by the end of this we might explain why we’ve stopped asking big questions, and how we can rediscover them. 

Big questions are essential to solve big problems and we have plenty of those right now. Be it the meta crisis that combines terrifying ecological, political and technological threats, or our more modest (and less terrifying) creativity crisis that is producing huge shifts in my industry - we need the big thinkers to step up. Philosophers are associated with every monumental epoque changeover. In hindsight it seems like they heroically show up just as old structures begin crumbling, and when the world needs rebirth or enlightenment. But they don’t seem to be very envogue today. How many of them can we even name? There’s that one chap who’s unpronounceable name makes you sound like you’ve developed his speech impediment when you say it. Sorry Slavoj Zizek! Oh, and there’s the defrocked British professor that’s famous for her ‘controversial’ views on trans rights rather than her more holistic work on feminism. One might argue that Kathleen Stocks is only famous for her smaller thinking. So the whole discipline has an image problem; it neither has big ideas nor big names. Where are my A-listers like Rousseau, Nietzsche or Marx? 

Philosophy either frightens, confuses or bores most people. So why are we so afraid of asking big questions? Perhaps it’s because we became so unaccustomed to asking any kind of question. Have you noticed that the honest question is embarrassingly absent from so many of the domains it used to occupy? Not only have we lost the art of conversation through greater physical alienation, but tech-mediated communication became more fractious and questions became merely rhetorical or passive aggressive. Politicians appear less inquisitive about us than ever as they slice and dice us into ‘data,’ and contemporary research boasts of never having to ask questions as ‘spying’ on our online movements does the trick, thank you. Nobody seems interested in our inner worlds or how we’re all connected anymore. 

Could philosophy’s impenetrably stodgy, celebrity-light status be the reason we don’t debate any of its ideas these days? And is this why we’ve lost the appetite for big questions?  

The Russian-British philosopher, Isaiah Berlin, described philosophers as “adults who persist in asking child-like questions.” These questions are typically quite tough, sometimes sensitive and, when done right, challenging of orthodoxies. So, maybe the prospect of having a persistent ‘man-child’ at the dinner table explains our lack of appetite for the philosopher, especially at a time when our nerves are already worn to the bone. . 

But I have another theory. The job of the philosopher is in stark opposition to a society so entrenched in technological idealism. Another living (therefore unfamous) philosopher - Clare Chambers, of Cambridge University - describes philosophy as “the pursuit of truth, but in the most difficult way possible.” How brilliantly unappealing and unfashionable! In a culture of efficiency, ease and friction lessness, this statement borders on the heretic. As a born contrarian I feed off such obstinacy, but I fear this near-belligerence may drive much of philosophy’s problem: it is willfully and proudly difficult in an era that canonizes ease. Add this to a societal amnesia for the art of the question and it’s no surprise we’re living in a philosophy drought.  

While our tech-overlords preach the word of ‘move fast and break things’ and their products breed impatience, outrage, and polarity, I do believe the next technological revolution may hold some keys to the antidote. Here’s how I think AI may pull us out of the age of efficiency into a new age of big questions and a new enlightenment. 

1. Start small & coach us. One solution to big questions is starting with small questions. As we observed already, some of us even struggle with small questions, due to fear of judgment, asking the wrong ones or offending people. This too can be addressed with baby steps and even harnessing technology. As today’s AI can already stand in as your non-judgmental, impossible to offend sparring partner. She may challenge you, ask counter questions and help you sharpen your own questions in a safe space. This is one of the ways we’re inviting tech to coach, encourage and reanimate our instinctive skills. Our child selves had no problem with asking questions, so we know it’s in there somewhere. 
2. Democratize philosophy through play. We must drag big questions and philosophy kicking and screaming from the stuffy classrooms or pompous podiums and give it to the people. By giving these spaces a monopoly on the discipline, we’ve petrified its power. We can’t reintroduce it into the educational system, but we can reacquaint  the child in us with the art of questions by turning the process into a game. Through play we remove the fear of questions and begin to normalize it. Questions were once an instinctive part of our everyday life. By reintroducing questions through play, we are merely tapping into a latent behavior - not forcing a new one. 
3. Design permissive environments. It’s not enough to make the tools and teach people to use them, they also need to have the space to practice their newfound talents. Again technology can help by providing a sandbox, but we mustn’t see big thinking as one part of a process. We have injected the question into every part of the process. Like the precocious child who asks why, our process asks questions and makes all assumptions odd shaped. We also believe in friction, rotation and reflection as they counteract small thinking and provide mechanisms in which to catch the ingredients of truly groundbreaking ideas. 

The good news is that this is all much easier than you think. Half the battle was penetrating this loft discipline that looks like it hates you.  By reanimating our natural joy for the humble question, we’ll make a Plato of you yet!