Research on Western Philosophy Problems (Graduate Teaching Textbook)

Author: Zhang Zhiwei Feng Jun Li Qiu Ling
Publisher:
Publish Date: 1999-04-18
Features: As a problem-oriented history of Western philosophy, it is undeniable that we can study and interpret Western philosophy from various angles or levels. However, the graduate course "Research on Problems in Western Philosophy" does not merely approach Western philosophy from a single perspective or aspect. The guiding philosophy behind this course is based on the idea that the history of Western philosophy is ultimately a "problem history." Thus, "problem" is not merely an angle of studying Western philosophy but rather its living "soul" and source, constituting its basic overall characteristic. In other words, only by viewing the history of philosophy as a "problem history" can we fundamentally grasp the essence and spirit of Western philosophy.
It is undeniable that philosophy itself is a "problem." Among all human knowledge, philosophy holds a unique position: on one hand, its history is as ancient and enduring as that of other sciences, perhaps even more so, and it is considered the source of all scientific knowledge. Consequently, for a long period, it was revered as the "queen of sciences" and the highest form of knowledge. On the other hand, it has never been able to exhibit the universal necessity or at least relative universality of other sciences. It has been discovered that almost all aspects of philosophy are fraught with debate, with various theories and doctrines offering conflicting views, making it difficult to reach a fundamental consensus. As a result, people often doubt whether philosophy is a science or even a form of knowledge. This awkward position forces philosophers to repeatedly defend the legitimate status and significance of philosophy as a science, yet their defenses, though seemingly reasonable, fail to dispel the doubts in people's minds. Consequently, we find that philosophy is at most theoretically a science, but practically, it never possesses the minimal scientificity that a science should have. This phenomenon suggests that if we still regard philosophy as a "discipline," we must reassess its meaning and status. Based on this, we believe that the significance of philosophy lies not—or not primarily—in "knowledge," but in "problems." In other words, the history of philosophy is not a history of knowledge accumulation but a history of problems.
This situation forces us to reflect on the meaning of philosophy by returning to its origins. Perhaps we can find the reason in the original meaning of the term "philosophy," which derives from the Greek word philosophia, meaning "love" (phileo) and "wisdom" (sophia). Although for a long time, people regarded it as a universally accessible scientific knowledge and the highest science, its original meaning indicates that early philosophers were not as "arrogant" as they later became. They were, rather, quite humble, knowing that human life is finite while wisdom is infinite. As Plato stated in the Phaedrus, speaking through Socrates, "Wisdom" is too grand a term, suitable only for the gods, while terms like "love of wisdom" are more fitting for humans. Human finitude determines that we cannot fully possess wisdom, but this has not stopped us from loving and pursuing it. Although we may never reach the ideal of wisdom, loving and pursuing wisdom is a responsibility and mission of being human. We should and can regard it as the highest ideal of life. Clearly, the "wisdom" the Greeks spoke of differs from our understanding of "knowledge." Wisdom is an infinite, free, and supreme ideal, while knowledge typically concerns finite and concrete things. Knowledge, or scientific knowledge in general, is a tool and means of our existence, valued for its "usefulness," whereas the love and pursuit of wisdom have no other purpose or are purpose itself. Therefore, Aristotle said that among all disciplines, philosophy is the only free one.
Both Plato and Aristotle pointed out that philosophy originates from "wonder" (thaumazein), which can also be understood as philosophy originating from "problems." It is undeniable that not only philosophy but all our knowledge arises from problems. If we do not feel curious about something or realize our own ignorance, we would not seek knowledge. However, general scientific knowledge is concerned with specific, finite, and definite objects, so through some specific, finite, and definite methods, we can always find at least a relatively certain answer, thereby forming our knowledge. The history of science is a process of knowledge accumulation, and gaining knowledge is the primary purpose of science. If a science primarily gives us problems rather than knowledge, it would contradict the nature of science and thus lose its meaning and value. Philosophy is different. Our pursuit of wisdom is not to understand finite and concrete things but to transcend them and even our own finitude. Therefore, philosophical problems are often fundamental, basic, and sometimes even transcendent. Since these problems often transcend our experiential boundaries, they cannot be solved through general scientific methods and are, in a sense, without ultimate answers. Of course, philosophers have once again and again sought to find a scientific method for philosophy, but this ideal is doomed to be unattainable. Generally speaking, scientific problems have relatively certain answers, sometimes even unique ones, although the progress of knowledge is also boundless, so scientific problems cannot have an ultimate answer either. However, theoretically, if humanity could continue infinitely, we would gradually approach "truth" through the accumulation of knowledge. Unlike this, although philosophy also progresses and develops, its movement is not a "linear movement" of knowledge accumulation but a "circular movement" that constantly changes its "base points" while pointing toward the same "center." Therefore, strictly speaking, philosophical problems are not "problems" but "difficulties," as we cannot provide an answer to them but can only adopt various different solutions.
Of course, not all philosophical problems are purely speculative, abstract, or transcendent. We might broadly classify them into two categories: one concerns the unity of the universe, nature, or the world, and similar issues, such as metaphysics, philosophy of religion, etc. Regardless of how we view or answer these problems, they remain purely speculative, abstract, and fundamental. The other category is relatively more concrete, such as epistemology, ethics, historical perspective, etc. However, since the latter category of problems in philosophy is also "meta-problems" or "fundamental problems," they cannot be solved through general scientific methods to obtain universally necessary, certain answers. In Western philosophy, classical philosophy primarily concerns the first category of problems, while modern philosophy is more concerned with the second. However, regardless of which category, they have not yet reached a conclusion to this day and have never achieved universal consensus among philosophers. Clearly, all this reflects the special nature of philosophy, which differs from scientific knowledge.
However, inspired by the great achievements of natural science, the idea of making philosophy a science has been an extremely strong "temptation" for philosophers. For thousands of years, philosophers have striven to transform "the love of wisdom" into "the study of wisdom," forming an indelible "scientific complex." The depth of this influence is evident in the fact that people to this day have not abandoned the ideal of making philosophy a science, though all their efforts have ended in failure. This historical scene has provided critics of philosophy with the most powerful weapon and has been a great humiliation for defenders of philosophy, who have tried in every way to redeem it. In reality, they may have misunderstood the nature of philosophy. The objects and problems of philosophy are not on the same level as those of science. Measuring philosophy by scientific standards is meaningless, and desperately trying to maintain its scientific status is equally meaningless.
Someone might ask, if philosophy is more about problems than knowledge and its problems are largely unsolvable difficulties, why must we keep asking them?
In a sense, philosophy or the love and pursuit of wisdom originates from humanity's awareness of its own finitude and the desire to transcend it. After humans emerged from nature and acquired reason, intellect, or self-awareness, a vast chasm appeared before them between finitude and infinity, relative and absolute, reality and ideal, and this and . Fundamentally, philosophy embodies humanity's attempt to transcend this boundary. Although as finite natural beings, humans can never practically reach the infinite ideal, as rational beings, this ideal is crucial to them, so they regard it as the highest ideal of life and remain steadfastly devoted to and pursue it. Here, infinity and finitude have a qualitative difference, so we cannot cross the boundary between them through the accumulation of finite knowledge or the continuation of generations. Moreover, because the "essence" of this rational existence lies in its infinite openness, always being in the process of becoming, the ideal of wisdom is also infinitely open, and we can never fully concretize or limit it. Therefore, the meaning of philosophy does not lie in providing, like science, some certain knowledge, solving specific problems, or giving us the power to improve our living conditions. In short, the meaning of philosophy does not lie in its usefulness. Philosophy primarily embodies humanity's pursuit of a supreme ideal, representing the "ultimate concern" of life. Thus, what is considered the great defect of philosophy—its uselessness—may in fact be its superiority. If philosophy also had a practical value like science, it would no longer be philosophy. Clearly, we have no need to make philosophy a science at the cost of losing its meaning. In other words, philosophy as a "discipline" is not a science, and this is not its defect but, on the contrary, its extraordinary superiority.
Therefore, philosophy is different from science or knowledge in general. Today, people may possess more knowledge than ancient times, and medical students certainly know more than Hippocrates, the father of medicine, but no one dares to claim that we are wiser in philosophical thinking than Plato or Aristotle. In summary, for us, philosophy is and can only be a manifestation of many "problems," not a form of universally necessary "knowledge." In other words, philosophical problems are "difficulties" that humanity has eternally pursued but cannot obtain ultimate answers to. We can only propose or adopt various solutions to philosophical problems, never giving a definitive, irrefutable final answer. This seemingly fatal weakness of philosophy is actually where its eternal charm lies.
Thus, learning philosophy is different from learning scientific knowledge. The history of science is a history of knowledge accumulation. Generally, we only need to know its latest achievements without knowing its history to use it for our benefit, but philosophy loses all meaning without its history. Because philosophy is composed of problems and various different solutions, no single theory or doctrine can represent the entire philosophy. Only by "synthesizing" all past, present, and future solutions to philosophical problems can we draw a relatively complete picture of philosophy. Therefore, we say that philosophy is philosophy's history, and learning philosophy requires learning philosophy's history. Only through studying philosophy's history can we truly learn philosophy.
Because the history of philosophy presents itself to us as a chaotic scene of conflicting views and the "everyone against everyone" of "undecided and unresolved" issues, people often criticize philosophy for lacking the minimal scientificity, dismissing it as outdated and obsolete. As mentioned earlier, the meaning of philosophy lies not in knowledge but in problems. In terms of its content, the thoughts of philosophers in history have indeed become outdated, and people often feel discouraged when they mention the naive and superficial philosophical proposition of Thales, the founder of philosophy—"water floats the earth"—because the problem he raised, the "arche" (origin) problem of where things come from and where they return to, though no longer the main issue of philosophy later, still represents a typical way in which philosophers addressed naturalistic problems. We believe that the theories of philosophers may be outdated, but the problems they faced and their different solutions have not become outdated and will never become outdated. Truly speaking, the significance of a philosopher's thought lies in the "longitude and latitude" of the problems they faced and their extraordinary solutions. Therefore, the history of philosophy has never been a linear, knowledge-accumulating history. It presents to us many different "roads" leading to eternal, unsolvable problems. Although no road can reach the other shore, we are inevitably bound to find or choose our own path. In this sense, as Heidegger said, engaging in philosophical thought means "embarking on a journey," and the thinking of philosophy is always "on the way" or "in transit."
Therefore, in the sense that the history of philosophy is a problem history, philosophy is not only historical but is entirely realistic—it is "historical thought." When we say that philosophy is "historical thought," the "historical" here differs from the usual meaning of history. Here, "historical" also carries the meaning of "realistic." We say it is historical because philosophy, or the history of philosophy, is composed of the many roads walked by predecessors, and without these roads, there would be no philosophy. We say it is realistic because the problems faced by predecessors are also problems for us, so the roads they walked, as different solutions to philosophical problems, each possess an irrecoverable eternal value. Of course, it is undeniable that there are indeed inheritances and developments between different philosophical thoughts, and every philosopher engages in philosophical thinking based on the thoughts of predecessors. However, what gives a philosophical thought historical significance does not primarily lie in its inheritance and development from predecessors but in whether it provides us with something extraordinary. In this sense, the history of philosophy is not, as Hegel understood, a single path or merely a process of philosophical development, but rather many paths have been walked, and many different paths will yet be taken. Aristotle could not obscure Plato's brilliance, and Hegel could not replace Kant's position. The reason is simple: true philosophical problems are forever without ultimate answers, and philosophers can only do their best to offer their unique solutions.
In this regard, learning the history of philosophy is also a "dialogue" and "discussion" with the ancients, engaging in the thoughts of thoughts on the same problems.
Philosophical problems are eternal and unsolvable, so the problems of the ancients are also our problems. Although these problems may change in form under different historical conditions, they are fundamentally. Therefore, in a sense, learning the history of philosophy is a "dialogue" or "discussion" with the ancients from our current perspective on common problems, which is also the "fusion of horizons" mentioned in hermeneutics. Here, what connects our thoughts with those of the ancients is "problems." Learning the history of philosophy is nothing more than retracing the paths walked by the ancients and reflecting once again on their thoughts. We do this not to "revisit the past," but to continue the path of philosophy, choosing, seeking, or opening our own path. Thus, in our thoughts, the thoughts of the ancients are "reborn," gaining a realistic "life," or perhaps they were already "alive" and possessed their own eternal value beyond time. In the "dialogue" between thoughts, reviving the ancients is not "revivalism" but "renewal." From this perspective, the history of philosophy is not a "warehouse" of dead knowledge or old materials but an organic, living, and ever-open life movement.
Therefore, learning the history of philosophy requires not only mastering the basic ideas of philosophers and foundational knowledge in relevant areas but also, more importantly, grasping the living "soul" of philosophy, i.e., "problems." In other words, we not only need to know "what" philosophers said but, first and foremost, "why" they said it and why they said it one way rather than another. Otherwise, even if we memorize the history of philosophy, we will end up "knowing the what but not the why," and miss the most valuable aspects of philosophy. Therefore, the key to learning the history of philosophy lies in understanding the "problems" faced by philosophers. This can be said to be the gateway or bridge to the realm of philosophy, and also the guide that allows us to move freely within the labyrinth of philosophy. In summary, only in this way can we grasp the threads of the history of philosophy, and only in this way can we glimpse the inner sanctum of philosophy.
Thus, learning the history of philosophy should cultivate a "problem consciousness."