Most philosophy instructors have encountered the following problems in teaching introductory courses, and these problems often become particularly acute where primary texts are the main required reading: (1) Many students will not read the material at all; (2) Even students who do attempt to read the material typically do not understand it very well, if at all, since they have poor reading comprehension, undeveloped critical reasoning capacity, lack of training in tracing themes, and the like; (3) Class discussions, if there are any, are insufficiently grounded in the texts because of (1) and (2); (4) It is difficult to find any objective way of determining who is and who is not studying the material. Presumably most instructors would like to know this, even if they are not inclined to give an "A for effort."; (5) Occasional student comments do not constitute a sufficient basis for determining just what sort of difficulties students are having with the texts when they do read them; (6) Very few students come to class with focused questions, the kind of questions which can facilitate good discussions.
One way to overcome student resistance to reading the text, and in particular primary texts, is to force them to! How? By requiring them to turn in study guides which cannot be completed without reading the texts. These guides assist students in going through the process of assimilating difficult texts by requiring them to reconstruct arguments in their own words, summarise, fill in blanks in statements and arguments which restate themes or begin the reconstruction of arguments, and answer short questions regarding content.. By developing the ability to do these things the guides are in fact developing reading skills, which can itself be a significant aim in the teaching of introductory philosophy. The ability to read and reflect critically is developed, in part, through aquiring some of the above mentioned skills. Students must learn to identify arguments (and argument surrogates). These guides require them to identify premises and conclusions, note missing elements, and reflect on the logical relations involved. The guides also make suggestions and give guidance in evaluating arguments by setting forth parrallel arguments and through other familiar strategies. These guides require students to relate parts of a given text, and different texts, to one another. They assist students in thinking about these relations and may begin to get them into the habit of 'doing so. This feature of the guides also provides continuous review of material already covered, which seems to be an important factor in good pedagogy. These guides attempt to provide clear explanations of archaic or technical terminology. They explain and expand upon allusions to unfamiliar literature and arguments. Perhaps most important, they present the primary texts in an edited form, with organizational headings and subheadings, added to the texts. The study guides provide an exact focus for class discussion, both before, during, and after completion. They are structured so that students are motivated to discuss the more difficult parts of the texts and guides in class on the basis of actual familiarity with the text.
Some of the study questions may only require the student to summarize the passage in question, which often can be done in a sentence or two. Other questions could require interpretation, reconstructing arguments, critiquing questionable claims, or reflecting on philosophical issues. In addition to short answer questions, others may be less demanding fill in the blank or multiple choice questions. From our use of the study guides, we have found it best if students record their answers on a separate piece of paper or in an essay booklet which can be evaluated by us or a student assistant; this of particular benefit for classes with large enrollments. Two excerpts from the study guides for Augustine's On Free Choice of the Will, and Hume's discussion of personal identity from the Treatise are presented below. The original text appears in regular type face, and the study guide portions are in italics.
EVODIUS: Please tell me: isn't God the cause of evil?
AUGUSTINE: I will tell you once you have made clear what kind of evil you are asking about. For we use the word 'evil' in two senses: first, when we say
that someone has done evil; and second, when we say that someone has suffered evil.
EVODIUS: I want to know about both.
AUGUSTINE: But if you know or believe that God is good-and it is not right to believe otherwise-then he does no evil. On the other hand, if we acknowledge that God is just-and it is impious to deny it-then he rewards the good and punishes the wicked. Those punishments are certainly evils for those who suffer them. Therefore, if no one is punished unjustly-and we must believe this, since we believe that this universe is governed by divine providence-it follows that God is a cause of the second kind of evil, but in no way causes the first kind.
EVODIUS: Then is there some other cause of the evil that God does not cause?
AUGUSTINE: There certainly is. Such evil could not occur unless someone caused it. But if you ask who that someone is, it is impossible to say. For there is no single cause of evil; rather, everyone who does evil is the cause of his own evildoing. If you doubt this, recall what I said earlier: Evil deeds are punished by the justice of God. They would not be punished justly if they had not been performed voluntarily.
(1) What is THE question which is raised in this opening dialogue?
(2) Does Augustine begin by assuming that God exists, or not?
If your answer is "yes" is that a sensible thing to do or not, and why?
(3) Fill in the blanks in the following argument which is assumed in the opening dialogue.
1. God exists.
2. God is perfectly good.
3. A perfectly good being would not ____________________________
4. There is evil.
therefore God is not ___________________________________
therefore, something else must be __________________________________
This argument when completed correctly is valid. No one would want to deny any of the premises (the numbered statements) except #1 and there might be some argument about the third premise.
(4) Assuming both are true, is it the case that the second conclusion MUST be true?
EVODIUS: It seems that no one could sin unless he had first learned how to sin. And if that is the case, I must ask this: From whom did we learn to sin?
AUGUSTINE: Do you think learning is a good thing?
EVODIUS: Who would dare to say that learning is a bad thing?
AUGUSTINE: What if it is neither good nor bad?
EVODIUS: I think it is good.
AUGUSTINE: Indeed it is, since knowledge is given or awakened through learning, and no one comes to know anything except through learning.' Don't you agree?
EVODIUS: Of course not.
AUGUSTINE: Well then, if all understanding is good, and no one who does not understand learns, then everyone who learns is doing good. For everyone who learns, understands; and everyone who understands is doing good. So someone who wants to know the cause of our learning something really wants to know the cause of our doing good. So let's have no more of your wanting to hunt down this mysterious evil teacher. If he is evil, he is no teacher; and if he is a teacher, he is not evil.
(5) Augustine claims that "we simply cannot come to know evil things." This remark should remind you of a famous statement made by Socrates and seconded by Plato. The statement is . . .
(6) Does the position taken by Socrates and Augustine imply that a person who does evil is in some way stupid?
EVODIUS: Now that you have convinced me that we do not learn to do evil, please explain to me what is the source of our evildoing.
AUGUSTINE: You have hit upon the very question that worried me greatly when I was still young, a question that wore me out, drove me into the company of heretics,' and knocked me flat on my face.
(7) These "heretics" were Manicheans, who believed in two Gods, one good and one evil. Try to say why "the question" might drive someone into their company.
I was so hurt by this fall, buried under a mountain of silly fairy tales, that if my love of finding the truth had not secured divine help, I would not have been able to get out from under them to breathe freely and begin to seek the truth. And since such pains were taken to free me from this difficulty, I will lead you on the same path that I followed in making my escape. God will be with us, and he will make us understand what we have believed. For we are well aware that we are at the stage described by the prophet, who says, "Unless you believe, you will not understand"(Isaiah 7.9).
(8) This principle ("Unless you believe. . .") is absolutely fundamental for Augustine. Does this principle have any bearing on the answer to question 2? If yes, what is that bearing?
(9) Are there any things that you believe but do not understand? If so mention some here. Would it be better if you did understand these things, rather than just believing them? If so, why?
We believe that everything that exists comes from the one God, and yet we believe that God is not the cause of sins. What is troubling is that if you admit that sins come from the souls that God created, and those souls come from God, pretty soon you'll be tracing those sins back to God.
EVODIUS: You have stated plainly what bothers me in thinking about this question. That is the problem that has compelled me and drawn me into this inquiry.
(10) Summarize what it is that Augustine has "stated plainly."
Not all of the philosophically important arguments in the Treatise made their way into the Enquiries. One such argument is Hume's discussion of the personal identity from Book I of his Treatise. Hume begins his discussion noting how philosophers typically understand the notion of the self. One philosopher Hume has in mind is Descartes in Meditation Two.
There are some philosophers who imagine we are every moment intimately conscious of what we call our self; that we feel its existence and its continuance in existence; and are certain, beyond the evidence of a demonstration, both of its perfect identity and simplicity. The strongest sensation, the most violent passion, say they, instead of distracting us from this view, only fix it the more intensely, and make us consider their influence on self either by their pain or pleasure. To attempt a farther proof of this were to weaken its evidence; since no proof can be derived from any fact, of which we are so intimately conscious; nor is there any thing, of which we can be certain, if we doubt of this.
According to Hume, philosophers such as Descartes maintain that the self (a) is a simple and unified thing/experience, and (b) continues over time as a unified thing/experience.
(1) What kind of proofs do these philosophers offer for their view?
Unluckily all these positive assertions are contrary to that very experience, which is pleaded for them, nor have we any idea of self, after the manner it is here explained. For from what impression could this idea be derived? This question it is impossible to answer without a manifest contradiction and absurdity; and yet it is a question, which must necessarily be answered, if we would have the idea of self pass for clear and intelligible, It must be some one impression, that gives rise to every real idea. But self or person is not any one impression, but that to which our several impressions and ideas are supposed to have a reference. If any impression gives rise to the idea of self, that impression must continue invariably the same, through the whole course of our lives; since self is supposed to exist after that manner. But there is no impression constant and invariable. Pain and pleasure, grief and joy, passions and sensations succeed each other, and never all exist at the same time. It cannot, therefore, be from any of these impressions, or from any other, that the idea of self is derived; and consequently there is no such idea.'
(2) For Hume, the self is not any one impression because
But farther, what must become of all our particular perceptions upon this hypothesis? All these are different, and distinguishable, and separable from each other, and may be separately considered, and may exist separately, and have no need of anything to support their existence. After what manner, therefore, do they belong to self; and how are they connected with it? For my part, when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a perception, and never can observe anything but the perception.
(3) We never experience one constant and invariable impression of ourselves, but instead experience a series of different impressions. What are the impressions which Hume lists, and what are some others that might be added to the list?
(4) Hume asks rhetorically, after what manner are these scattered impressions connected with the idea of the unified self. What is his implied answer?
When my perceptions are removed for any time, as by sound sleep; so long am I insensible of myself, and may truly be said not to exist. And were all my perceptions removed by death, and could I neither think, nor feel, nor see, nor love, nor hate after the dissolution of my body, I should be entirely annihilated, nor do I conceive what is farther requisite to make me a perfect non-entity.
(5) Why does he think that the self must be identical to our varied perceptions?
If anyone, upon serious and unprejudiced reflection thinks he has a different notion of himself, I must confess I call reason no longer with him. All I can allow him is, that he may be in the right as well as I, and that we are essentially different in this particular. He may, perhaps, perceive something simple and continued, which he calls himself; though I am certain there is no such principle in me.
But setting aside some metaphysicians of this kind, I may venture to affirm of the rest of humankind, that they are nothing but a bundle or collection of different perceptions, which succeed each other with an inconceivable rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux and movement. Our eyes cannot turn in their sockets without varying our perceptions. Our thought is still more variable than our sight; and all our other senses and faculties contribute to this change; nor is there any single power of the soul, which remains unalterably the same, perhaps for one moment.
(6) What kind of perceptions are contained in the "bundle"?
The mind is a kind of theater, where several perceptions successively make their appearance; pass, re-pass, glide away, and mingle in an infinite variety of postures and situations. There is properly no simplicity in it at one time, nor identity in different; whatever natural propension we may have to imagine that simplicity and identity. The comparison of the theater must not mislead us. They are the successive perceptions only, that constitute the mind; nor have we the most distant notion of the place, where these scenes are represented, or of the materials, of which it is composed.
Hume concedes that we have a "natural propensity" or inclination to believe in a simple and continuous self, even though we are in fact only a bundle of perceptions. At first he suggests that we instinctively connect our various moments of perception because they resemble each other and are causally related. Thus, we have an artificially constructed idea of a unified self. A year later, though, he abandoned this explanation:
Upon a more strict review of the section concerning personal identity, I find myself involved in such a labyrinth, that, I must confess, I neither know how to correct my former opinions, nor how to render them consistent. If this be not a good general reason for skepticism, it is at least a sufficient one (if I were not already abundantly supplied) for me to entertain a diffidence and modesty in all my decisions. ...
In short there are two principles which I cannot render consistent [with the idea of a unified self]. Nor is it in my power to renounce either of them, viz. that all our distinct perceptions are distinct existences, and that the mind never perceives any real connection among distinct existences. Did our perceptions either inhere in something simple and individual, or did the mind perceive some real connection among them, there would be no difficulty in the case. For my part, I must plead the privilege of a skeptic, and confess, that this difficulty is too hard for my understanding. I pretend not, however, to pronounce it absolutely insuperable. Others, perhaps, or myself, upon more mature reflections, may discover some hypothesis that will reconcile those contradictions.
Hume's final position on the issue, then, is that not only is the self in fact merely a bundle of perceptions, but he has no explanation of how we arrive at an artificially constructed notion of the self.