Why Write Philosophy?

George Sher writes some philosophy to tell us.

- George Sher

"Bernard Williams once posed the awkward question, What is the point of doing philosophy if you're not extraordinarily good at it? The problem is that you can't, by sheer hard work, like a historian of modest gifts, make solid discoveries that others can then rely on in building up larger results. If you're not extraordinary, much of what you do in philosophy will... [probably] be both unoriginal and wrong. That is why most of the philosophy of the past is not worth studying. So isn't there something absurd about paying thousands of people to think about these fundamental questions?"

(Thomas Nagel, Other Minds, 1995, p.10.) 

When Thomas Nagel wrote this passage, he was mainly questioning the point of philosophy understood as a profession, but as a professional philosopher, I can't help but take Williams' challenge personally. If what we write is overwhelmingly likely to be rightly forgotten, what's the point of writing it?

There are some obvious answers. Publication is a condition of tenure. If you're a reasonably good philosopher, your writing will win you professional recognition. You'll be invited to conferences where you'll enjoy professional camaraderie and beers with your friends. You may get competing offers that will allow you to jack up your salary. Your students will be impressed by your accomplishments, perhaps more than they should be. But each of these rewards is extrinsic, so none gives us any more reason to spend our lives writing philosophy than it would to spend them juggling flaming torches or winning pie-eating contests if those activities were equally rewarding. Is this really all that can be said?