Introductory Remarks

One of my central pedagogical goals is to cultivate an appreciation for the merit and resourcefulness of the views under examination in the class, and for the satisfaction involved in elucidating such merit and resourcefulness. Many students, I find, are quick to raise objections and stop there, proud of their apparent superiority over the thinker in question. I want students to have the determination, honesty, and research skills, however, to see if replies to such objections have been made. I want them to have the generosity, mettle, and creativity to construct replies true to the constraints of the view, thus allowing those objections to serve as opportunities for deeper understanding. Although I receive pleasure simply in elucidating the positions and arguments of philosophers, and although my scholarship benefits from the fresh angles students offer on topics occupying my research, the base-level prospect of promoting an attitude of charity and reconciliation is what primarily draws me to teaching. Hence my satisfaction when students make serious efforts to raise problems for a view to which they are deeply committed and to defend a view to which they do not ascribe. Hence my satisfaction when student papers not only show the motivations and strengths of competing positions on a certain issue, but attempt to accommodate the insights of these positions in the process of defending a particular thesis.

Principle of Charity

The principle of charity drives my teaching just as much as it does my research. I use several techniques in the classroom to encourage sympathetic interpretation.

First, I make clear to my students right away that when I ask them to be charitable in their interpretive practices I do not mean that they should, for instance, assume that a philosopher did not endorse view V because view V has theoretical problems or is unorthodox or unpalatable from our standpoint. When we filter what others say in a way that aligns with what we think, which is what sometimes is done in the name of charity, we become closed off from novelties and challenges. Ab-using the principle of charity in this way is particularly a problem when discussing historical figures or figures from other cultures whose beliefs, distinctions, and arguments may be drastically different from our own. Although it may be beneficial for students to think about what might lead someone to endorse, say, the sort of view of the Absolute that Schelling did (as opposed to, say, the sort of view of the Absolute that Hegel did), that is not what charitable interpretation of Schelling consists in. Charitable interpretation of Schelling in this situation consists in making the strongest case for what would lead Schelling to endorse the sort of view of the Absolute that he did. Here, and unlike in the first case, one’s speculation must honor the constraints of Schelling’s philosophical vision.

Second, and in order to illustrate this point, I will sometimes have students do the following sort of exercise. If, for example, the class is discussing Galen Strawson’s argument against the possibility of moral responsibility, I might start out by asking students to come up with an argument in defense of the view that moral responsibility is impossible. Since most students do not agree that moral responsibility is impossible, this exercise itself is good first step towards inhabiting another thinker (which is in short what I think charitable interpretation is all about) insofar as it at least gives students the practice of stepping beyond their own perspective. Then, after having studied Strawson’s argument in the class and at home, I have students develop an argument against the possibility of moral responsibility in a way that is true to the constraints of Strawson’s vision. After going through such an exercise, students have a concrete example of the difference between understanding what is best from their own standpoint and seeing what is best from another’s.

In history classes I will do the same sort of exercise. First I might have the students give the best argument for why someone would say that God is an extended thing. Then, after studying Spinoza, I would have them explain why Spinoza thinks that God is an extended thing. In the best case scenarios, students do so in a way that is more forceful and compelling than Spinoza (even while honoring his vision). When I incorporate in-class debates in such history courses, I do not have one group arguing, for example, that it is best to conceive of God as extended and the other group arguing that it is best to conceive God as unextended. Instead, I limit the groups to relying only on, say, Spinoza in defending the view that God is extended and relying only on, say, Descartes in defending the opposing view. And so when it is inevitably brought up how Descartes’s God, which is not an extended thing, can create extended things, the students are not allowed to use any resources beyond what Descartes said, or would most likely say, when faced with such a problem.

General Teaching Procedures

My classes have traditionally been a mixture of lecture, discussion, student-presentation, and in-class exercise. The proportion has often depended on the level of the course and the nature of the material. I have been teaching for over 10 years now. My typical procedure over that time has been to go lecture-heavy. Over the last few years, however, I have put much more emphasis on student presentations. For two-thirds of even my intro courses now, I have students present the material and lead the discussion. Standing at the back of the room, I participate in the seminar as a facilitator, clarifying arguments when needed, defending the author when challenged, raising objections to the author, and encouraging students to develop replies on the author’s behalf. Unless we are dealing with a highly difficult text, only occasionally do I take center stage (literally and figuratively).

 My favorite courses in school were those that were strictly top-down lecture, and so I do feel a strong pull towards that extreme. Nevertheless, I find that giving students the opportunity to synthesize and articulate what is happening in the readings (the central claims, arguments, assumptions, objections, replies), and to make critical comments about the reading, helps to demystify philosophy and provides students with opportunities to develop their verbal communication skills. It is also nice to be able to write in a letter of recommendation that student x successfully taught a class session at the college level.

When I do conduct the discussion from a center stage position, which is mostly at the beginning of each semester, I aim to model for students how to organize one’s thinking when working through a philosophical problem. My lectures, which are more accurately described as conversation-inviting but thoroughly planned presentations, are concerned primarily with making clear the general vision of the complicated, and sometimes inaccessible, texts they are reading. Students come to class in order to assist in the working out of this general vision and, in addition, react to what has been said, raise possible topics to write about, raise objections and replies to what has been said, and enter into details about certain interpretive debates on the issue under discussion. Such experience provides them with a better sense of why the thinkers are doing what they are doing. I find that students feel rewarded when they reconstruct the details of a thinker’s views on their own, guided by the reading trajectory and basic arguments that they themselves have helped me articulate in class time. In an era where content is freely available on the internet, it is important for students to feel that coming to class is important for their education. Students in my classes understand that coming to class is important not only because I scaffold their learning (providing them, for example, with questions to think about as they engage with manageable reading assignments that build on each other), but because working out positions and arguments through live discussion is something hard to attain on one’s own and leads to deeper grasp of the material.

Here are some of my strategies for maintaining a student-involved, discussion-inviting, higher-thinking atmosphere at all times in the classroom. I wear my fallibility on my sleeve so that students feel comfortable questioning me and helping me better express my points. Indeed, I wear my fallibility on my sleeve so that I myself am more relaxed and open to learning. I talk with and to students rather than at them. I direct students to talk with each other as opposed to solely at me when they raise their points. I entertain and ask questions all the way through the period. Sometimes I bring in guest experts. To further challenge exceptional students, I present them with the possibility of investigating topics not discussed during the class period, or running a class or review session for practice teaching the content that they know so well. As a remedy for the chance that class time calls for me to do most of the talking, either because of the nature of the material or the needs of students or even my own needs, I try to make up for the potential loss through reserving a space in class or out of class for discussion.

Discussion outside of the classroom, whether through discussion boards, email, or office visits, is especially important in my case. Because of my conversational and enthusiastic style of presentation, students are quick to participate in class discussion. Creating a relaxed and democratic atmosphere where each student feels included and respected, where each student feels that he or she can learn about and participate in the subject, is intentional on my part. One drawback, however, is that this can stand in the way of getting through the planned decent minimum of material. Since I try to steer a middle course between cultivating learning experiences and covering material, promotion of discussion outside of the classroom is crucial. If I find that the conversation is getting too far off topic or the class is getting oversaturated with views and arguments from various voices in the room, I direct them to carry out the conversation on the discussion elsewhere with each other or with me personally. These conversations sometimes continue in parallel to the length of the rest of the course and they are sometimes the basis of papers.