This morning I was rereading this string, where we discussed things not to do at conferences, and I noticed a comment by Neal Hebert:

Although I can't speak for Jon on this, I do think this is a good place to point out that some of the above are next to unthinkable at conferences in other disciplines. When Jon and I jointly presented our paper at the American Society for Theatre Research in Dallas this past November, I can't recall any of the above happening.

If anything, the bigger problem was that feedback to all papers was TOO positive, and there wasn't much opportunity within the nomoi of the conference to push the speakers into considering new territory.

In addition to the ASTR conference Neal is mentioning, I've presented at a radical theology*and narratology conferences recently,** and the thing I've noticed is that the difference that Neal writes about creates potential severe incommensurabilities. In particular, other fields don't handle the question and answer session in anything like the way philosophers do. In philosophy it's perfectly licit to just give some reasons why you think the speaker's view is wrong. If you are in a philosophy conference the person will then engage in dialectic with you. But, at least in my experience, this is completely unacceptable in other fields.

This was very hard for me at the narratology conference. Since so many of the papers engaged with analytic philosophy (including panels on semantics and pragmatics, structuralist theories of narrative, fictionality, and counterfactuals), I wanted to engage with the speakers in the way we do in analytic philosophy.*** The person would be talking about somebody like Lewis, Walton, or Carroll then in the Q&A I'd do the normal philosopher thing of presenting a challenge for the view. But then there would be this long, uncomfortable silence with all of these Northern Europeans stoically grimacing at me. As it stretched out I would begin to feel like my Chihuahua mix probably does right after he defecates on the rug. After ten or so seconds of agony the moderator would just say "Next question please."

By the end of the conference I started to get the hang of it though. As with any complicated enough social skill, there is no algorithm for success, and I still found myself mystified by what made certain behavior such that it would be encouraged and certain behavior such that it provoked censorious silence. I've never really figured out how to eat correctly in a French Restaurant either (my European friends' ability to get the check in a timely manner without angering the waitstaff strikes me as magical). But I do think that I've discovered one good rule of thumb for philosophers participating in Q&As for talks given by non-philosophers; make sure that your question actually has the surface grammatical form of a question. You can do a little prologue about why you found the person's paper interesting, but you have to end by actually explicitly soliciting information from the speaker. When I started following this rule I was made to feel like a good dog by the sundry and gathered narratologists. They didn't pat me on the head or anything, but they did smile and use nice voices. It was cool.

I'd be interested in wisdom that any other people might have gleaned from interacting with non-philosophers at conferences. I used to think that the norms were different between American analytic and continental philosophers with respect to questions and answers (Python's argument clinic versus Chris Farley interviewing Paul McCartney), but after attending two SPEPs I'm not sure this is really the case.

[Notes:

*Speaking of radical theology, kudos to the good people at an und für sich for being counterexamples to the things I'm going to gripe about in these footnotes.

**Given the way that continental metaphysics seems to be getting over bigger in non-philosophy departments, this will probably continue.

On not getting over in philosophy departments, see this post for statistical evidence. Also note how the canonical English professors working in this field are at good English PhD programs. As with theory's heydey and philosophers of language**** (at least until the Theory's Empire anthology came out), as far as I can tell analytic metaphysicians are missing the boat here. The return of realism across wide swaths of the humanities has created a huge opening for analytic philosophers to engage in dialogue with people outside of our disciplinary niches.  This is in part why it's important to learn to do this without coming across as jerks at conferences.

***Again, philosophers missing the boat. Narratology is flourishing in Northern Europe. As a field it is far, far more like analytical aesthetics than theory motivated by post-structuralism (though there is very important post-structuralist work within the field, such as Ridvan Askin's Deleuzian theory of narrative), yet there were no analytic philosophers (except to the extent that I count as one) at the conference. If you are reading this and write about anything relating to narrative, please follow the link above and submit something next year. This is a real potential growth area for analytic aesthetics that we should not be wasting.

The Baby Boomer era circular firing squad***** approach to culture wars ended up squandering the similar opening provided in the  heydey of post-structuralist theory. If we had handled that era correctly, then the Boomers' students would have been employable at far more non-philosophy departments. And the theory being done in those departments would have been stronger.

This being said, the disconnect now between analytic philosophy of art and aesthetic theory done by non-philosophers seems to be one more of neglect than outright hostilitity. This is progress of sorts.

****Not entirely analogous. While serious inroads are being made in English departments, judging by number of presentations by first and second generation Speculative Realists by far the largest inroads are in art schools, departments, and galleries. You can check out the number of art institute and museum presentations on Graham Harman's cv or even a fraction of the cool things going on in the New York area (especially involving Reza Negarastani) and Berlin (e.g. Armen Avenessian) to get a picture of the ferment.

*****Sadly, Youtube doesn't have a video for the bit in Monty Python's Life of Brian where the crack suicide squad tries to liberate poor Brian.]

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4 responses to “towards an etiquette primer for philosophers at non-philosophy conferences”

  1. Roberta L. Millstein Avatar

    What counts as a question in this context? Is “someone could make objection X. How would you respond to that?” a question that the narratologists would smile and nod at you for? I’m guessing not, yes?
    I have to admit that I too get a bit annoyed when people don’t ask questions in the Q and A period. On the other hand, I think sometimes “merely” asking a question is seen as too lightweight. That bothers me as well.

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  2. Jon Cogburn Avatar

    For the most part I find Q&As of papers I’m presenting to be useless at improving the particular paper. . . Sometimes I do learn stuff not related to the paper; the very best are when someone suggests a helpful article or book I haven’t read (and this is helpful when the person is suggesting their own work too).
    I just don’t think that the Socratic/confrontational picture that analytic philosophers have internalized really helps the dialectic progress very much at all. It’s supposed to be quasi-evolutionary, where the strongest proposition wins, but it just isn’t. In fact, when you add the selective pressures of publication, it’s often just the opposite. Views that are less true* but defended by a skillful dialectician with whatever sets of skills delivers top publication and speaking gigs are overwhelmingly likely to get selected for, because they will generate far more publishable counterarguments, and (in the hands of the famous dialectician) counter-counterarguments.
    On the other hand, I think that Neal Hebert really has a point above. Just asking people to elucidate their project further in an awed tone of voice (depending on how institutionally over the speaker is) is also very, very close to a waste of time for everyone concerned.
    In my experience the best kind of interlocutors are people who are broadly sympathetic to your project and you, and interested in shepherding it in fruitful directions. I try to be this kind of interlocutor, but haven’t ever really figured out how to do that within the constraints of a Q&A. I know it’s possible, because I’ve seen David Chalmers do it multiple times with respect to people who have views that disagree with his, agree with his, or don’t entail one thing or the other with respect to his. I’ve also noticed that some areas of philosophy are closer to this ideal.** If I can approximate that at some point then I think all this stuff about philosophy really leading to virtue might be worth something in my case.
    It’s much, much easier to achieve the helpful kind of dialectic over coffee, beer, and/or a meal. This is a big part of the reason why people who co-write a lot like to co-write. You find a way to have conversational dialectic come close to achieving what Plato claims that it can.
    [*Anyone who doesn’t believe in degrees of truth can rephrase this as “less likely to be true.”
    **As with Chalmers, there are counterexamples in every subfield of philosophy. It’s usually a crapshoot, depending on the personalities involved. But some areas do seem to be better, and some worse. On the better side, you can learn a tremendous amount from Q&As that involve Sellars, German Idealism, and aesthetics. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a paper on all three at once. That would be cool.
    As far as subfields the best probably happens when the participants have a very strong esprit de corps but are still trying to instantiate something like the Socratic model. When an area gets big enough, it’s probably much harder to maintain the esprit de corps among members working in that area.]

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  3. Matt Avatar

    The format of conferences for law professors (or legal theorists of some sort) is often very different from philosophy conferences (it’s much more common for papers to be distributed in advance with the [often vain] hope that people will read them before hand, and then the paper is talked about rather than presented, usually fairly briefly) but the type of Q&A that follows is very similar to that of philosophy conferences or presentations. This has been my experience in at least most interdisciplinary legal theory conferences, too (not just law and philosophy, but also Law and econ, psychology, history, etc.), at least when the presenters are from law schools. What conclusion to draw from this (other than that the world is various) I don’t know, but I offer it as a sociological point.

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  4. Jeff Heikkinen Avatar
    Jeff Heikkinen

    I can’t help much in terms of conference participation, but whatever comes up, including the “make sure that your question actually has the surface grammatical form of a question” point, will likely generalize beyond that context.
    Coming from grad school to what I’ll laughingly call the “real world”, I fairly recently had to re-learn a lot about dealing with non-philosophers. You’d think, in that context, that the ex-analytic philosopher would be the one overanalyzing wording and grammar and perceiving significant distinctions where none were intended. That does sometimes happen, but I was surprised how often the exact opposite occurred. Even in something as simple as agreeing on plans for the evening, I had gotten accustomed to treating “I’d like to do X, if you’re interested” and “Would you like to do X?” as completely interchangeable utterances, indistinguishable in both connotation and denotation. Among non-philosophers, apparently the first can seem pushy and presumptuous while the second is usually taken much better. Although you can’t win – a significant minority will think the person using the second wording lacks confidence (especially if that person is male), and will show a lot more respect if you use the first. But either way, the non-philosopher perceives a significant distinction between these utterances that was never intended by the speaker.
    My point, I guess, is that a lot of us need, not so much an etiquette primer for non-philosophy conferences, as an etiquette primer for dealing with non-philosophers quite generally.

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