Why not wonder?

The students here flinch, smirk, nod, or raise their eyebrows when I tell them that I am a philosophy major.

By Yurina Ko

Published September 20, 2009

The students here flinch, smirk, nod, or raise their eyebrows when I tell them that I am a philosophy major. After a brief pause, they often follow up by saying, “How interesting,” as though I can’t tell by their sarcastic, slightly condescending tone that what they’re really saying is, “How impractical.” Once, there was a student who mumbled, “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to talk to you,” and briskly walked away.

Those who are honest enough to criticize my choice of study ask me, “So what are you planning to do with that after you graduate?” It is a legitimate concern, especially in a world where the conventional career forums don’t recruit corporate philosophers next to investment bankers and consultants.

Because of these students’ attitudes, I am left wondering if I made the right decision, if practicality is indeed an essential element to one’s bachelor’s degree. Indeed, wondering is a good place to start, but we must examine the issue thoroughly, as Socrates would say.

So let’s start with the facts. There are about 1,000 students at Barnard, Columbia College, and General Studies who have declared their economics majors and concentrations. This is 13 percent of the approximately 7,500 students who attend these institutions. The second-to-largest ratio for majors and concentrators came from the political science department: 11 percent. On the contrary, there are approximately 100 students out of the same student population either majoring or concentrating in philosophy: a shockingly low 1.3 percent.

Even if you take into account the number of undecided students, it is not likely that every member of this undecided group will choose the philosophy major. Some could also argue that other liberal arts departments show similar numbers within the range of 1 to 2 percent, but these subjects are more specialized in the sense that they require certain skills like fluency in a certain language, which limit the number of students in a social Darwinian way and make them less prone to collective attacks.

Perhaps the economics and political science majors are popular because they are in fact useful to future endeavors, whether it be on Wall Street or Main Street. But the issue of practicality can’t be the main reason for these devastating statistics. Some students choose to major in philosophy to prepare for law school—quite a practical approach, I think. After all, logical analysis, critical thinking, and coming up with a coherent argument are things philosophy majors and prospective lawyers have in common. Other philosophy students accompany the major or concentration with economics, mathematics, or physics, subjects that seemingly embrace contrary arguments, which ironically makes sense to many who want to nurture both sides of the brain. (Note: some philosophers argue that the mind does not belong in the brain at all.)

In an elite institution like Columbia University, there is a tacit understanding that graduates will use their “practical” degrees to earn high-paying jobs and someday donate lots of money back so that the currently unnamed mathematics building could be known by that alumnus’ last name. But it is those once-poor philosophers-in-training whose names grace that other building on campus (the one that houses books and looks onto college walk).

Why can’t I use this time as an undergrad to be this poor philosopher that I can’t be after college? I talk to a lot of people here who just stepped into the university and literally have their entire future planned out, from the major, to the internships, and careers. I’ve lived 20 years (and was only self-aware for about 15 of them) so it’s a bit daunting to me that the next 30 or 40 years can be crystal clear, with no mysteries or room to wonder anything. When I climbed Mount Fuji over the summer, the summit wasn’t in my view for the majority of the climb. Why should life be any different?

Why not wonder? But wait. While I’m trying to defend philosophy, non-philosophy majors wonder all the time. Because the first biochemists wondered whether our DNA can actually define who we are. Some astronomers wonder whether we can communicate with aliens using radio waves. Political scientists, the legitimacy of democracy, and poets on whether or not we have a free will.

Personally, I am a philosophy major because I want to explore the essence of my existence in non-theological, non-scientific ways. One of the most renowned modern philosophers, Bertrand Russell, also said that “philosophy … is something intermediate between theology and science.” Not determined by empirical truths and not completely faithful to something that cannot be empirically proven. Philosophers, being neither, have the freedom to wonder.
So why not wonder, “Why not?”

Yurina Ko is a Barnard College junior majoring in philosophy. She is a senior editor of the Columbia Political Review.
2+2=5 runs alternate Mondays.
opinion@columbiaspectator.com

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