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    The Dickhead Theory Of Academic Philosophy, Revisited

    By: Samir Chopra

    A little while ago, I posited something I jocularly termed The Dickhead Theory as a possible explanation for the lack of women in academic philosophy (“there are too many dickheads in philosophy”). In response, one male reader commented:

    At the risk of unjustly downplaying its particular effect on women, I’ll note that the dickheadishness of professional philosophy affects men too. It’s one of the reasons I left the field. To succeed in some philosophical fora seemed to require not only the *willingness* to wave one’s dick in the way you describe, but an outright love of doing so. I don’t find oneupsmanship to be a very appealing motivator, which put me at a disadvantage.

    And then, just a couple of days ago, I received an email–from a male graduate student–which read:

    I have to admit, I was happy to see someone suggest this.  At my undergrad, I seldom if ever came across this sort of behavior in philosophy classes or seminars – something I now recognize as a blessing.  Coming to [XXX] on the other hand, I was admittedly rather shocked at the prevalence of this sort of behavior among the students.  You mention that this behavior is possibly a deterrent to would-be women philosophers.  I think this is probably right.  But I must admit that I too – a male – also found this sort of behavior discouraging, and I’ve heard other male colleagues express the same sentiment.  Also, I’ve even seen this behavior exhibited by female colleagues.  I suppose that what I’m trying to say is that I see this as a problem not just for women interested in philosophy – though as I said, I think this probably is a problem in this respect – but also for the profession in general. [name of institution, er, redacted]

    Both my interlocutors are correct: the “dickheadishness of professional philosophy affects men too.” Male philosophers are not a monolithic bloc, and indeed, neither are women philosophers, some of whom, indeed, do display the same obnoxious behavior I complained about in my original post. Many of the former demographic do not find the atmosphere of ‘philosophical debate’ to their liking, conducted as it often is, in a manner that seems deeply counterproductive to the idealized notion of philosophical inquiry. Love of wisdom seems a very distant notion in these abrasive exchanges.

    My second interlocutor then goes on to ask:

    Given that you mentioned this problem publicly, I wonder whether you have any opinions on how to change this aspect of the culture of our profession?  Also, do you think it is a problem many other philosophers take seriously?

    Second question first. I do know many academic philosophers take this problem seriously. Certainly, the philosophers I cited in my original piece do, and some others have even taken public vows to treat their colleagues with more respect in academic settings. (See for instance Carrie Jenkins’ Day One post; but see too, the reaction it provoked). But we should also acknowledge that being a dickhead is not likely to get you much professional blowback–especially if you have a few OUP or CUP books. The incentive schemes of academic philosophy are not set up to recognize or reward non-dickheadish behavior.

    There is another problem, perhaps more fundamental, one which I’m not sure can be addressed. Philosophical activity is often, fundamentally, understood as the presentation and refutation of arguments. It is presented as an essentially adversarial activity: we critique, we analyze, we take apart, we seek weaknesses, we probe for openings in arguments. If an argument can be refuted or made to seem untenable then so much the better for it. (Indeed, the intensity of the inquisition is valorized.) As such an entire vocabulary of trial and examination, of survival and fortitude, is imported. I think this has a great deal to do with the some of the behavioral patterns on display. There might be alternative conceptions of philosophical activity but they do not have much play in academic philosophy–at least, as far as I can see.

    Social norms in a community can be changed; we can indicate, with varying degrees of disapproval, whether some species of behavior is praiseworthy and worthy of encouragement. Much normative weight can be attached to such praise or condemnation. But if our very activity is understood within a framework that is fundamentally about conflict, then we might be fighting a losing battle. (No pun intended.)

    Addendum: My Brooklyn College colleague Serene Khader comments: 

    Feminist philosophy is a place where alternative norms are very much alive. The paradigm supposes that we are involved in a collective enterprise and trying to figure out the truth together. We scrutinize arguments by saying things like "can you help me see how to get from x to y" and "maybe it would be helpful to you to consider this objection."

    Note: This post was originally published–under the same title–at samirchopra.com.

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    17 responses to “The Dickhead Theory Of Academic Philosophy, Revisited”

    1. Anon Avatar
      Anon

      I think you’re right that conceptions of philosophical activity have a lot to do with the prevalence of dickishness in the profession. In discussions of this topic, I often see defenders of accused dickhead behavior more or less equate it with philosophical rigor.
      I find that surprising. In fact, I think we can even accept the first feature of this conception as you’ve characterized, that philosophy is about “presentation and refutation of arguments” while still rejecting the second, that it is “an essentially adversarial activity.”
      I’ve never understood why the use of adversarial roles should be taken so seriously, why we can’t be motivated to use them cooperatively rather than competitively. And I don’t think this is just a matter of form. Like others, I find the dickhead factor of philosophy deeply distasteful. But to be honest, I don’t find it that much better when it’s cloaked in nicer language, such as in Khader’s examples: it’s all in the delivery.
      What I would prefer to see is all criticism used in an actively constructive way. Not: “you’ll improve your position by answering objection x”, but “perhaps you could answer objection x with y.” I think it should be the main aim of philosophical criticism to directly revise and improve their opponent’s views.
      What stands in the way of this? I don’t think it’s just self-interest or pride, since the pleasures of philosophy are in part puzzle-solving, so we get the pride of winning in coming up with better answers, no matter whose they were originally.
      I think the real problem is propriety: as a professionalized practice, owning insights is a matter of survival and advancement, so a crasser kind of adversarialism, one that allows us to possess results, flourishes. (This might partially explain why dickheadishness is less common in undergraduate discussion). If that’s so, then we can imagine why in an increasingly bad job market and increasingly competitive profession, there would be a dickhead surplus.

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    2. p Avatar
      p

      have any of you been to linguistics talks and experienced arguments in linguistics? they are no less fierce and competitive than in philosophy, sometimes even more. yet there are plenty of women in linguistics. this is an obvious counter-example to the dickishness theory or however we want to designate the debating culture of philosophy.

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    3. Patrick S. O'Donnell Avatar
      Patrick S. O’Donnell

      We’ve discussed similar topics on this blog before so I may be repeating myself, but I find it helpful to examine the possible historical roots of “dickhead theory” philosophical praxis. So, for example, Dena Goodman notes in her book, The Republic of Letters: A Cultural History of the French Enlightenment (1994), that formal education in the West, going all the way back to ancient Greece* (keep in mind that Socrates and his interlocutors in the agora engaged in dialogue and dialectic as an exemplary example of ‘informal’ philosophical education) has been largely “agonistic.” Quoting Walter Ong, she writes that “Students ‘learned subjects largely by fighting over them.’ The primary form the agon took in the education of boys and young men from the Middle Ages on was disputation, a form of ceremonial combat. Ong contends that male insecurity, although it may not have been the ‘cause’ of the agonistic structure of pedagogical and scholarly practice, was certainly fundamentally related to it.”
      The literal and figurative notion of learning in French schools since Abelard had “been steeped in the language of battle” and up until the “the end of the Old Regime” pedagogical practice was “overwhelmingly oral,” despite the focus on texts and exegesis: “Listening and memorizing were always oral and generally disputatious in form.” With roots in the sixteenth century, the reform of secondary education in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in France placed emphasis on the art of rhetoric or eloquence as “the art of thinking and speaking well.” As Goodman explains, this went hand-in-hand with the Jesuits’ renewal of “militancy” in pedagogical practice. In this model, the agonistic spirit is canalized in the form of a “competition among students” believed to “foster” the kind of individual ambition that led to educational excellence. We find here the pedagogical analogue of the duel, which represents the “merger of personal human relations with militancy.”
      Perhaps needless to say, the social base of the Republic of Letters provided by the French salon offered an alternative model of intellectual learning and philosophical discourse for the philosophes. And this alternative pedagogical model, if you will, was a deliberate product of the salonnière. The women who governed these salons (e.g., Marie-Thérèse Geoffrin, Julie de Lespinasse, and Suzanne Necker) enforced rules of polite conversation among the guests, transforming the salon “from a leisure institution of the nobility into an institution of the Enlightenment,” one in which the philosophes were compelled to learn a new style of philosophical argument, a new mode of intellectual disputation not fundamentally agonstic in style, thus without the victors and victims of combat. This too was a rhetorical practice of sorts, but one subordinate to the broader and normative art of conversation. Here the “mastery of word” was not synonymous with, or at least reduced the risk of degenerating into, a “mastery over persons.” Unlike agonstic philosophical argumentation, this art is far less prone to the dangers of descent into abusive and circumstantial ad hominen arguments, and is structurally better suited to the intellectual virtues of what today is discussed under the heading of “regulative epistemology,” including, noticeably, intellectual humility and generosity. Indeed, I think it is an auspicious forum for the flourishing of the principle of philosophical charity, as well as conductive to ascertaining the relative truths on all sides of a philosophical debate or argument (which does not preclude assessing their respective strengths and weaknesses).
      We should also study the modes of philosophy in Chinese and Indic philosophical traditions (to keep it short, and because I’m only familiar with the Confucian and Daoist cases, I won’t discuss the Chinese traditions). While philosophical disputations between schools could be “heated” and philosophical debate occasionally combative (consider for instance the monastic style of debate in Tibetan Buddhism: although it appears if not sounds aggressive, it is stylized or ritualized so as to minimize or soften, I suspect, any real aggression or strong combativeness), we find here different styles and modes that suggest philosophical practice need not be analogous to the adversary legal model for the discovery of truth(s). Debate in Indian philosophy appears to have begun along the lines of a conversation between friends but over time not infrequently degenerated into quarrelsome forms that relied on tricks and clever devices designed to confound and defeat one’s opponents, individuals no longer viewed as equal partners engaged in the pursuit of truth (cf. the two types of debate found in the Meno). Even the intellectually combative Cārvāka appreciated that form of debate Socrates said took place between “friendly people,” referring to such debate as sandhāya sambhāsā, “debate among fellow scholars who are friends” (B.K. Matilal), by way of contrast to debate conducted in “the spirit of opposition and hostility.” A fourfold classification of forms of debate by a Nyāya philosopher, finds two forms characteristic of “seekers after truth,” and the other two forms employed by “proud people” who merely intend to defeat others, and thus “tricky devices” are permissible in the latter two forms. I would go so far as to suggest that Jain epistemology and philosophy more widely (in particular, its doctrines of anekāntavāda, syādvāda, and nayavāda) rule out the notion of an agonistic or combative mode of philosophizing wherein one imagines the goal is merely to refute or defeat the arguments of one’s opponents. I have elsewhere described this model of truth as “para-propositional,” insofar its truly unique and provocative “standpoint” epistemology and perspectival rationalism, which emphasizes (because mandates) the relative truths of all genuine philosophical arguments, will not let us forget how beholden they these arguments are to sundry presuppositions (the hidden parameters of belief and assertion) that preclude our absolutizing their truths and encourage us to actively seek out and appreciate their respective degrees of partial or relative truths, truths which, as it turns out, we may be ourselves be quite blind to but others may articulate with perspicuity.
      * See the comment by Manyul Im in this thread (with its very different portrait of Jesuit educational praxis!): http://www.religiousleftlaw.com/2012/06/the-therapeutic-model-of-philosophy-philosophy-as-applied-philosophy.html

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    4. Patrick S. O'Donnell Avatar
      Patrick S. O’Donnell

      erratum (third para., last sentence): “as well as conducive to…”

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    5. Ed Kazarian Avatar
      Ed Kazarian

      “I find that surprising. In fact, I think we can even accept the first feature of this conception as you’ve characterized, that philosophy is about “presentation and refutation of arguments” while still rejecting the second, that it is “an essentially adversarial activity.”
      “I’ve never understood why the use of adversarial roles should be taken so seriously, why we can’t be motivated to use them cooperatively rather than competitively. And I don’t think this is just a matter of form. Like others, I find the dickhead factor of philosophy deeply distasteful. But to be honest, I don’t find it that much better when it’s cloaked in nicer language, such as in Khader’s examples: it’s all in the delivery.”
      These are great points, and important. Folks know that I’m skeptical of formal civility, and that certainly includes the sort of cloaking here. I want to return to the point about adversarial conduct though, as it’s one of those things that does seem to reflect a real confusion about what rational argumentative conduct in philosophy entails. I think (and I’m doing this from memory, so apologies if I’m getting it wrong), that it was in Robert Fogelin and Walter Sinnott-Armstrong’s really neat speech act based critical reasoning textbook that I first encountered a clear distinction between the adversarial use of argumentation a la courtroom procedure and the cooperative use that should inform truth-seeking in something like a philosophical or scientific community. In any case, something like that distinction is often made in such texts (though often without such nuance and sophistication) and, as such, feels to me like something that should be familiar to many more philosophers than it seems to be.
      Then again, as a text as thoroughly canonized as the Meno makes quite clear, it can be quite difficult to get people to give up the attempt to determine who’s ‘in charge’ and get on board with a collaborative and non-hierarchical project of philosophical inquiry.

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    6. P2 Avatar
      P2

      “have any of you been to linguistics talks and experienced arguments in linguistics? they are no less fierce and competitive than in philosophy, sometimes even more.”
      I have been to linguistics talks. And while I agree with p that they are highly rigorous, I don’t agree that linguists are comparably “dickish.” The linguists I have interacted with are not.

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    7. Ponder Avatar
      Ponder

      P made a good point, which I agree with; I also have some experience at linguistics talks.
      I think it’s incredibly childish and, frankly, very dickish to call a large portion of the profession “dickheads”, accuse them of working out deep neuroses rather than doing philosophy, and call their arguments “dick-waving”. I really hope other philosophers don’t launch similarly dickish attacks toward whatever your preferred style of philosophy is.

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    8. Here is a Name Avatar
      Here is a Name

      We need an account that ISN’T an armchair account. Has anyone done any responsible, thoughtful, and empirically informed analysis of the relative dearth of women in philosophy?

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    9. Frederick Avatar
      Frederick

      Per the previous query, this might be of interest: http://www.nas.org/articles/women_in_philosophy_problems_with_the_discrimination_hypothesis1

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    10. anon Avatar
      anon

      there is certainly a dickish-ness to how philosophy is argued, and I do think that this sort of dickish-ness is much more common in philosophy than in linguistics or psychology (although I’ve seen it in both of those disciplines too, but it appears to be less common and, when present, less dramatic). That philosophy is adversarial or arguments-centered is not the problem– so too are linguistics and psychology (both of which I’m familiar with): it’s the tone — the contempt, the derisiveness, the condescending smirk.
      I think the total percentage of philosophers who are (regularly) contemptuous, derisive, and/or condescending in their delivery is quite small, but that these few go unchecked, and indeed are sometimes rewarded for their behavior. One immediate kind of ‘reward’ is referencing such a person’s comment, e.g., ‘To build on a point by so-and-so, blah, blah, blah,’ where so-and-so just said something with an incredibly condescending smirk or a sarcastic incredulity in their tone. Thus, these philosophers are sometimes given a kind of intellectual deference which I think gives them a power that makes their behavior even more harmful.
      I don’t know why this sort of behavior is permitted in philosophy, but it does exist, it’s totally unnecessary for good philosophy, and it’s quite orthogonal to the fact that philosophy is arguments-based and adversarial. In my view, a merely adversarial stance is fine — but treating your peers as though they are intellectually below contempt is not. You can vociferously and vigorously oppose a philosophical thesis without treating your opponent as though she is intellectually deficient.
      Short version: philosophers need to be careful to be mindful of the enormous amount of work that went into someone’s project. Criticism is a high form of praise, so long as it is done respectfully and constructively.

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    11. Anon Avatar
      Anon

      Ponder, I don’t think anyone called a “large portion of the profession” dickheads (only enough to wonder if it’s a distinctive problem) or that the target of the criticism is a broad “style of philosophy”(only very specific forms or interpretations of adversarial philosophy).
      I’m sympathetic with anon’s suggestion that we “need to be careful to be mindful of the enormous amount of work that went into someone’s project.” But, as with my reservations about Khader’s recommendations, I still worry that these moral solutions, while worth attempting, are not by themselves practically effective.
      If the demands of educational and professional success in the field continue to reward dickishness and punish counter-dickishness, these attempts to individually change our attitude about or conception of philosophy will not have a general impact.

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    12. anon grad student Avatar
      anon grad student

      Thanks for posting this, Samir. I’ve often thought the same, and can think of many friends and colleagues who left the discipline (and sometimes academia) because of the hostility of other philosophers.
      As a friend once told me, the worst part of it is that these are people who should (or at any rate claim to) know better.
      Talking to colleagues from other disciplines, I’ve grown used to hearing complaints of how rude or hostile philosophers can be as classmates or interlocutors. The emphasis of philosophers seems to always lie in disproving the other’s position, and no charitable interpretations are given.
      I agree with other commentators here and in the other thread: there’s no need for philosophy to be agonistic rather than cooperative. The current state of the profession seems to encourage (and at times require) competition, but surely there’s a better way of doing this.
      Perhaps one thing that should be added is that dickheadishness is a privilege. Sometimes the same people who tolerate rudeness and hostility from a white male colleague (“he’s just socially awkward”) will call out black colleagues for their anger when defending their position (i.e. “you’re acting like an angry black (wo)man”).

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    13. Guest Avatar
      Guest

      “The most savage controversies are those about matters as to which there is no good evidence either way. Persecution is used in [philosophy], not in arithmetic.”

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    14. David Wallace Avatar
      David Wallace

      Except in occasional isolated flashes, I don’t recognise this account of philosophy. Possible (non-exhaustive) explanations:
      (1) philosophy of physics has a nicer discussion culture;
      (2) philosophy of physics in Oxford or the UK has a nicer discussion culture and my exposure to US discussion culture hasn’t been extensive enough;
      (3) I’m insensitive to it and don’t notice;
      (4) I’m a malefactor!

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    15. Mark Lance Avatar
      Mark Lance

      Two points: first, i agree that this is a phenomenon. Ive been to lots of talks in linguistics, math, sociology, and a reasonable number in other fields and I find the tone differences striking. I dont think it is just a few of us. Mild forms of dickishness are ingrained in us in our training, forms that are largely unconscious to us but apparent to outsiders who come watch us.
      Second, in many fields the practice is to preface questions with a nice comment about the paper. As much as this is “merely manners” and doesn’t add to the content, it does have an effect on tone. Recently, I have seen that many of the younger generation in philosophy have taken this up, and I have joined them. This seems to me to have made our colloquia much more pleasant. Raising an objection by saying ” thanks for the paper, I really enjoyed that, I wonder what you would say about P” is a very different speech act than “yeah, P” – and the kind of discussion that is generated from these two moves is very different.
      (I could go on and relate this to the sorts of work on pragmatics that I, rebecca kukla, lynne tirrell, and others do, but I will leave that as an annoying and tantalizing suggestion.)

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    16. ejrd Avatar
      ejrd

      I agree with those who think this is a real pattern in philosophy. I noticed it while in graduate school. My work is interdisciplinary (psychology and cognitive science) and I remember how much of an asshole I came off as being when I acted like a philosopher in psychology seminars. It took me a while to realize that our conversational norms are toxic, unnecessarily adversarial, and geared toward machismo. At least in the (four) universities that I have been affiliated with, philosophers have had a bad reputation for just this reason. It is really shameful that it has come to this.
      Like Mark Lance, I believe that there is change in the wind and that we all can make small but important changes to our conversational norms. The discipline sorely needs it.

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    17. Alex Shexk Avatar
      Alex Shexk

      This is actually funny and sardonic as hell. Incredibly written on a TRUE and factually based theory of exactly what you did this one as!! Fucking hilarious , good pun. You don’t deserve the criticism you do deserve the critics . We take constructive criticism well and there are people like us out there. You have to expand your definitions, and you should also know that paranoia is different when applied vertically. So take in what you can and leave out what you don’t. I thought the meat of the paper was absolutely stunning. But the bottom line is really the highlight I thought you could have been more delicate . But I love that you show where you stand and make me feel almost a sense of insecurity through the confidence this displays. Yes I think that’s true confidence and this guy won.

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