English Literature — A Knowledge Graph

philosophy

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Philosophy for the Schoolroom

by G.K. Chesterton

What modern people want to be made to understand is simply that all argument begins with an assumption; that is, with something that you do not doubt. You can, of course, if you like, doubt the assumption at the beginning of your argument, but in that case you are beginning a different argument with another assumption at the beginning of it. Every argument begins with an infallible dogma, and that infallible dogma can only be disputed by falling back on some other infallible dogma; you can never prove your first statement or it would not be your first. All this is the alphabet of thinking. And it has this special and positive point about it, that it can be taught in a school, like the other alphabet. Not to start an argument without stating your postulates could be taught in philosophy as it is taught in Euclid, in a common schoolroom with a blackboard. And I think it might be taught in some simple and rational degree even to the young, before they go out into the streets and are delivered over entirely to the logic and philosophy of the Daily Mail.

Much of our chaos about religion and doubt arises from this—that our modern sceptics always begin by telling us what they do not believe. But even in a sceptic we want to know first what he does believe. Before arguing, we want to know what we need not argue about. And this confusion is infinitely increased by the fact that all the sceptics of our time are sceptics at different degrees of the dissolution of scepticism.

Now you and I have, I hope, this advantage over all those clever new philosophers, that we happen not to be mad. All of us believe in St. Paul’s Cathedral; most of us believe in St. Paul. But let us clearly realize this fact, that we do believe in a number of things which are part of our existence, but which cannot be demonstrated. Leave religion for the moment wholly out of the question. All sane men, I say, believe firmly and unalterably in a certain number of things which are unproved and unprovable. Let us state them roughly.

  1. Every sane man believes that the world around him and the people in it are real, and not his own delusion or dream. No man starts burning London in the belief that his servant will soon wake him for breakfast. But that I, at any given moment, am not in a dream, is unproved and unprovable. That anything exists except myself is unproved and unprovable.

  2. All sane men believe that this world not only exists, but matters. Every man believes there is a sort of obligation on us to interest ourselves in this vision or panorama of life. He would think a man wrong who said, “I did not ask for this farce and it bores me. I am aware that an old lady is being murdered down-stairs, but I am going to sleep.” That there is any such duty to improve the things we did not make is a thing unproved and unprovable.

  3. All sane men believe that there is such a thing as a self, or ego, which is continuous. There is no inch of my brain matter the same as it was ten years ago. But if I have saved a man in battle ten years ago, I am proud; if I have run away, I am ashamed. That there is such a paramount “I” is unproved and unprovable. But it is more than unproved and unprovable; it is definitely disputed by many metaphysicians.

  4. Lastly, most sane men believe, and all sane men in practice assume, that they have a power of choice and responsibility for action.

Surely it might be possible to establish some plain, dull statement such as the above, to make people see where they stand. And if the youth of the future must not (at present) be taught any religion, it might at least be taught, clearly and firmly, the three or four sanities and certainties of human free thought.

Philosophy for the Schoolroom

by G.K. Chesterton

What modern people want to be made to understand is simply that all argument begins with an assumption; that is, with something that you do not doubt. You can, of course, if you like, doubt the assumption at the beginning of your argument, but in that case you are beginning a different argument with another assumption at the beginning of it. Every argument begins with an infallible dogma, and that infallible dogma can only be disputed by falling back on some other infallible dogma; you can never prove your first statement or it would not be your first. All this is the alphabet of thinking. And it has this special and positive point about it, that it can be taught in a school, like the other alphabet. Not to start an argument without stating your postulates could be taught in philosophy as it is taught in Euclid, in a common schoolroom with a blackboard. And I think it might be taught in some simple and rational degree even to the young, before they go out into the streets and are delivered over entirely to the logic and philosophy of the Daily Mail.

Much of our chaos about religion and doubt arises from this—that our modern sceptics always begin by telling us what they do not believe. But even in a sceptic we want to know first what he does believe. Before arguing, we want to know what we need not argue about. And this confusion is infinitely increased by the fact that all the sceptics of our time are sceptics at different degrees of the dissolution of scepticism.

Now you and I have, I hope, this advantage over all those clever new philosophers, that we happen not to be mad. All of us believe in St. Paul’s Cathedral; most of us believe in St. Paul. But let us clearly realize this fact, that we do believe in a number of things which are part of our existence, but which cannot be demonstrated. Leave religion for the moment wholly out of the question. All sane men, I say, believe firmly and unalterably in a certain number of things which are unproved and unprovable. Let us state them roughly.

  1. Every sane man believes that the world around him and the people in it are real, and not his own delusion or dream. No man starts burning London in the belief that his servant will soon wake him for breakfast. But that I, at any given moment, am not in a dream, is unproved and unprovable. That anything exists except myself is unproved and unprovable.

  2. All sane men believe that this world not only exists, but matters. Every man believes there is a sort of obligation on us to interest ourselves in this vision or panorama of life. He would think a man wrong who said, “I did not ask for this farce and it bores me. I am aware that an old lady is being murdered down-stairs, but I am going to sleep.” That there is any such duty to improve the things we did not make is a thing unproved and unprovable.

  3. All sane men believe that there is such a thing as a self, or ego, which is continuous. There is no inch of my brain matter the same as it was ten years ago. But if I have saved a man in battle ten years ago, I am proud; if I have run away, I am ashamed. That there is such a paramount “I” is unproved and unprovable. But it is more than unproved and unprovable; it is definitely disputed by many metaphysicians.

  4. Lastly, most sane men believe, and all sane men in practice assume, that they have a power of choice and responsibility for action.

Surely it might be possible to establish some plain, dull statement such as the above, to make people see where they stand. And if the youth of the future must not (at present) be taught any religion, it might at least be taught, clearly and firmly, the three or four sanities and certainties of human free thought.

Filosofia per l’aula scolastica

di G.K. Chesterton

Ciò che i moderni vogliono venga fatto loro comprendere è semplicemente che ogni argomentazione comincia con un assunto; vale a dire, con qualcosa che non si mette in dubbio. Si può, s’intende, se si vuole, mettere in dubbio l’assunto all’inizio della propria argomentazione, ma in tal caso si sta cominciando un’argomentazione diversa con un altro assunto al suo inizio. Ogni argomentazione comincia con un dogma infallibile, e quel dogma infallibile può essere contestato solo ripiegando su qualche altro dogma infallibile; non si può mai provare la propria prima affermazione, altrimenti non sarebbe la prima. Tutto questo è l’abbicì del pensare. E ha questo particolare e positivo pregio, che può essere insegnato a scuola, come l’altro abbicì. Non avviare un’argomentazione senza enunciare i propri postulati potrebbe essere insegnato nella filosofia come lo si insegna in Euclide, in una comune aula scolastica con una lavagna. E penso che potrebbe essere insegnato in qualche misura semplice e razionale persino ai giovani, prima che escano per le strade e siano consegnati interamente alla logica e alla filosofia del Daily Mail.

Gran parte del nostro caos intorno alla religione e al dubbio sorge da questo—che i nostri moderni scettici cominciano sempre col dirci ciò in cui non credono. Ma persino in uno scettico vogliamo sapere anzitutto ciò in cui egli crede. Prima di argomentare, vogliamo sapere su che cosa non abbiamo bisogno di argomentare. E questa confusione è infinitamente accresciuta dal fatto che tutti gli scettici del nostro tempo sono scettici a gradi differenti della dissoluzione dello scetticismo.

Ora io e voi abbiamo, lo spero, questo vantaggio su tutti quei brillanti nuovi filosofi, che ci troviamo a non essere pazzi. Tutti noi crediamo nella Cattedrale di San Paolo; la maggior parte di noi crede in San Paolo. Ma rendiamoci chiaramente conto di questo fatto, che noi crediamo in un certo numero di cose che sono parte della nostra esistenza, ma che non possono essere dimostrate. Lasciamo per il momento la religione del tutto fuori dalla questione. Tutti gli uomini sani di mente, dico, credono fermamente e immutabilmente in un certo numero di cose che sono improvate e improvabili. Enunciamole a grandi linee.

  1. Ogni uomo sano di mente crede che il mondo attorno a lui e le persone in esso siano reali, e non una sua propria illusione o sogno. Nessuno si mette a incendiare Londra nella convinzione che il suo servitore lo sveglierà presto per la colazione. Ma che io, in un dato momento, non sia in un sogno, è improvato e improvabile. Che alcunché esista all’infuori di me stesso è improvato e improvabile.

  2. Tutti gli uomini sani di mente credono che questo mondo non solo esista, ma conti. Ogni uomo crede che vi sia una sorta di obbligo per noi di interessarci a questa visione o panorama della vita. Egli riterrebbe nel torto un uomo che dicesse: “Non ho chiesto io questa farsa ed essa mi annoia. Sono consapevole che una vecchia signora sta per essere assassinata di sotto, ma io me ne vado a dormire.” Che vi sia un qualche simile dovere di migliorare le cose che non abbiamo fatto noi è cosa improvata e improvabile.

  3. Tutti gli uomini sani di mente credono che vi sia una cosa quale un sé, o io, che è continuo. Non c’è un centimetro della materia del mio cervello che sia lo stesso di dieci anni fa. Ma se dieci anni fa ho salvato un uomo in battaglia, ne sono fiero; se sono scappato, me ne vergogno. Che vi sia un simile sovrano “Io” è improvato e improvabile. Ma è più che improvato e improvabile; è decisamente contestato da molti metafisici.

  4. Infine, la maggior parte degli uomini sani di mente crede, e tutti gli uomini sani di mente in pratica assumono, di avere un potere di scelta e una responsabilità dell’azione.

Sicuramente sarebbe possibile stabilire qualche affermazione piana e scialba come quella di sopra, per far vedere alla gente dove si trova. E se la gioventù del futuro non deve (per ora) essere istruita in alcuna religione, potrebbe almeno esserle insegnato, chiaramente e fermamente, le tre o quattro sanità e certezze del libero pensiero umano.

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