The anonymous reporter in Andrew Moon's very interesting post, "An Opionated Play-by-Play of the Plantinga-Dennett Exchange" (a few posts down) writes:
I prefer to remain anonymous for various reasons, in particular because I am inclined towards Plantinga's position over Dennett's and were this to become well-known it could damage or destroy my career in analytic philosophy.
I want to be very clear upfront that I'm not questioning the wisdom of this person remaining anonymous. Different people find themselves in very different situations, and I'm in no position to judge here -- especially since I know so little of this person's situation.
I am worried, though, that on the basis of that remark, and other things they might be reading these days, readers might be developing in inaccurate picture of how Christians are generally treated in the world of professional philosophy. I'm especially concerned about the picture that might be forming in the minds of Christian students who are potential philosophers, but who might be scared away from going on in philosophy because they fear that world is more hostile to Christians than it really is. The job market for those starting out in philosophy is very tough, so everybody should think very carefully about whether they want to pursue a career in professional philosophy. What I'm concerned with here is the extent to which Christians should be especially concerned, due to extra hurdles they fear they might face. Of course, it might be me who has the inaccurate -- because it's too rosy -- picture. What I hope is that this post might contribute to a more balanced picture.
So, first, I'll report on my own experience. All my jobs have been at secular universities. I've always had items on my CV that would mark me out as at least a potential Christian (a Calvin College BA and an interest in philosophy of religion), and I've never made any attempts to hide the fact that I am. I believe I'm known in the profession as being a Christian philosopher. I take myself to have been treated very fairly by my atheist colleagues in philosophy. Perhaps most notable is my first job, since how one starts out one's career is very important, and because that was at a department -- the philosophy department at NYU circa 1990-1993 -- that was, I believe, quite thoroughly non-Christian. I can't really say with confidence that everyone there then was an atheist: I never really discussed such matters with many of my colleagues there. But several were clearly atheists, and none that I knew of were Christians or even theists. I was their second choice, but was thrilled to be so: I was a new PhD, and their first choice had been out a couple of years and was already extremely accomplished & more accomplished than me, and, because he decided to take another job, second place turned out to be good enough to land the job. And during my 3 years at NYU (it was only 3 years because, especially with two very young children, my wife really didn't want to live there any more: it really had nothing to do with my professional situation, which I was extremely happy with), and in my subsequent jobs and various dealings with the profession, I have always felt that I was treated extremely fairly by atheist philosophers. I haven't worked at a Christian college, but was up for a job (while ABD) at such a college, and based in small part on that experience, but in large part on my discussions with various people who do teach in such institutions, I am quite confident in saying that I would have experienced far more trouble for expressing my religious beliefs at Christian colleges (or at least at very many of them) than I actually have at my jobs at secular universities. (Perhaps most notable here is that I'm a Christian universalist -- I believe that Christ's act of righteousness will lead to acquittal and life for all people. As I've learned (thankfully not through personal experience), one can get into significant trouble at various Christian colleges if one is open about holding such a belief. I discuss this issue a bit here.)
Second, I'll refer readers to a blog discussion from several years ago, in which different views are expressed about whether and to what extent Christians are discriminated against in seeking philosophy jobs. The blog post is here, and the relevant comments (it's part of a larger discussion about other topics; I guess to some extent we "hijacked" the comment thread) are #s 4, 13, 17, 37, 40, 43-50, 52. I would like to stress now, though, that I've subsequently become more worried about Christians, and more generally, religious believers of various stripes, who have theological beliefs that are in certain ways unorthodox. If those who think there is considerable discrimination against religious believers are right (and they might well be, though I myself think things aren't that bad), these less orthodox religious believers might face an environment that is very hostile to them indeed, facing discrimination against them for being religious believers at secular departments, and having an even steeper uphill battle at many Christian colleges, at least to the extent that they're open about their views.
Keith,
Thank you very much for posting this. I am a Christian desiring very much to go into philosophy as a profession, and had indeed read the account of the "Plantinga-Dennett Exchange".
This was extremely encouraging to hear from an accomplished professional such as yourself. I was wondering if I am enrolled in a seminary (Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary)pursuing an M.Div and have since decided to turn to a career in philosophy of religion, what steps would you recommend I take?
I have been told that after finishing this master's I should attempt to get into a master's of philosophy program at the best school I can with the intent of pursuing my doctorate there. Is this so? What educational path do you think would be best for someone in my situation?
I was just wondering your thoughts, thank you so much for your time!!
Keith, I have to dissent from your impression.
First, you are in the metaphysics and epistemology camp. Things are different in value theory, where theism is less common and theistic approaches to those topics is received with greater hostility and/or indifference.
Second, you are a universalist, which takes an edge off of your theology that upsets many non-theists. A Christian with a non-universalist view would be more likely to offend.
Third, you are not known as politically conservative, which is often associated with being a Christian. A sufficiently liberal Christian (theologically and politically) will be far more tolerated than one that is 'conservative' in the standard senses. What if you worked on bioethics and thought Leon Kass was onto something, or if you wrote about the political philosophy of Robert George instead of contextualism?
Fourth, you are not known for basing your work on explicitly Christian foundations, to my knowledge. What if you wrote a book like Warranted Christian Belief as one of your first books? How do you think secular philosophers would react? Imagine that you wrote Christopher Eberle's book on religion and politics. In that case, your experience may have been reversed.
Fifth, imagine that you were interested in metaphysical and epistemological traditions associated with theology, such as medieval theology. This may cause complications as well.
I fall under one of the above five cases. And I know Christians considering philosophy in every other category.
Given these considerations, I think you are taking your experiences to be unduly representative. Some people really are scared, and not unreasonably. If we want to be honest about this issue, we can't paper over this fact.
There are also serious consequences to being too relaxed about being a Christian in philosophy.
Dear Keith,
After reading the anonymous reporter's "transcript" of the Plantinga-Dennett debate, I'm now more inclined to think that the reason he/she wrote as such was the judgmental nature of the relay. In fact, it's good this so-called Christian analytic philosopher wrote anonymously because he/she makes Christian intellectuals look bad.
- Tim
Thanks for being this topic into the open. I got my BA in philosophy and am currently working on an MA in Church History. I'm hoping to go back to philosophy for my PhD.
First, I would like to ask whether your interviewers and colleagues knew/know you are a universalist? If so, do you think that might have an effect on how they would perceive you? I would suppose (maybe wrongly) that the nature of being a universalist makes you far less threatening to them if they were worried what kind of Christian you are. My being a Southern Baptist and having a much narrower view of salvation would probably be looked down upon wouldn't it?
Another thought/question I have that someone might be able to address is whether the heads of philosophy departments in the US are primarily analytic or continental? Would it be a double whammy for me to be both a Southern Baptist and continental if it were the case that most heads are analytics?
Keith, I appreciate your post. I'm always surprised when reading discussions along these lines how people often self-identify as Christian philosophers. My degree is in Religious Studies, a field in which people conscientiously DON'T self-identify in such a way as to associate their scholarly views with their personal identity. And it seems to me that the value of a good philosophical argument about religion shouldn't hinge on one's religious commitments. Think of all the Indian scholars who could approach philosophical problems from the perspective of any sectarian orientation. So I like the fact that you consider the problem from a number of perspectives (Christian, atheist, theist, orthodox, heterodox) rather than simply in a dualistic worldview where "Christian" is opposed to everything else indiscriminately.
I also find it interesting to read discussions of whether Christian philosophers are discriminated against. I don't self-identify as Christian, and I've never felt discriminated against, even when my lack of Christian orientation was clearly responsible for my inability to find common ground with philosophers who worked from an explicitly or implicitly Christian perspective. So I'd like to propose that, just as there should be more possiblities than "Christian" and "non-Christian", so there should be some alternative to discrimination. I can see how some consciously atheist philosophers may tend to reject explicitly Christian philosophy (and vice versa), but it seems unfair to label people discriminatory because they find all philosophy that begins from sectarian orientations to be, well, either suspect or at least confusing.
For those with a strong anti-Christian prejudice, being a universalist is not going to make much of a difference. The universalism controversy is very much inside baseball for Christians. I think that in those cases in which there is such a prejudice (I agree its not as widespread as some have suggested), its based on the belief that Dawkins and Dennett basically have it right--that Christianity, or indeed any form of theism, is backwards and irrational.
On the other hand, in my experience w/religious colleges and talking to colleagues, people who are universalists or who in other ways may not be "evangelical" enough do suffer discrimination at the hands of other Christians. For example, many Christian colleges require that one sign on not merely to generic Christianity, but to some very conservative version thereof (including, e.g an inerantist approach to scripture).
Professor DeRose,
I hope you're not getting too bogged down with comments to mediate like I did for that Dennett-Plantinga post!
Just to share, my experience as a Christian at University of Missouri-Columbia has been very positive. Most (perhaps all) of the faculty here are not Christian (and perhaps not even theist), but, in Dean Zimmerman's words, "they constitute a pretty tolerant, broad-minded bunch, all things considered." Some of this may have been influenced by Kvanvig's having been chair here, but I don't think too much.
My undergraduate experience at Ohio State University was also very positive. Most of the professors were atheists, but most were very collegial and more concerned about helping me grow and succeed as a philosopher. (Professor Stewart Shapiro even let me present a lecture on the Kalaam Cosmological argument in his lower-level phil. religion class.)
I wonder if there's a difference, as mentioned by an above commenter, between the m&e crowd and the political/ethics and even the continental crowd. Christian philosophers, I think, have been more prominent in the m&e literature, and that may have resulted in more openness.
I am inclined to follow up Andrew's comments with a brief (and first) contribution of my own, based on my own (confessedly limited) experience.
When I applied for a British Marshall scholarship in 07, I made no efforts to conceal the Christian tradition to which I belonged; in fact, it featured prominently in my application to no less 'religious' an institution as Edinburgh's School of Divinity, my selected discipline a Master's in Theological Ethics. From my perspective, I encountered no evident bias along the way. If anything, my Christianity only sharpened the kinds of questions I was called upon to field in the interviews -- which makes me think more of those who interviewed me, not less. As it happened, my story turned out well: I received the scholarship, and now study theological ethics with the aid of BP funding.
Yet I am no fool to think my situation standard. Indeed, though I am grateful for how things turned out, I suspect the area in which I work (ethics, Augustinian epistemology) will demand more of me in the future. That demand I expect will include strong statements against predominant academic opinions which rely on axioms fundamentally alien to my own. For one can only remain a 'student' for so long, content to confess his ignorance and commit to doing some more reading on this or that subject. If I wish to elevate my studies to more than that of 'historical interest' I should expect some bruises and sharp words to meet me. We ought not to be surprised when that for which we contend, if we contend, generates disagreements or draws lines in the sand.
In light of this, perhaps a crucial question to ask one's self at any early stage is this: what or whom do your studies serve?
The way one answers or, for whatever reason, rejects that question may suggest something about the way that person views the academy in general, philosophy in particular; and hence what they will come to expect. For myself there can be no answer to that question which does not directly involve the Gospel and the Church. I suppose if one resolves to that, s/he can prepare for less-smooth sailing among those less favorable toward those things. For it seems in step with expressions of faith, where such faith is indeed expressed, that the respondent with contrary views (administrations and institutions) will not always be charmed and persuaded. Yet I wonder, should people of faith (academics or otherwise) expect any different?
I hope that Keith's and Andrew's experiences are the norm. There are reasons, however, to think that others have experiences that differ. Here are two from personal experience. I once intereviewed at a state school, and was told ahead of time that I'd have to prove that I was "a metaphysician, not just a philosopher of religion." Granted, given that the job was advertised as M/E, this is understandable--and doing philosophy of religion neither entails nor is entailed by being a theist. But I also got the feeling that at least some in the department didn't want to hire a theist. (To the department's credit, I was told that I was able to convince them that I was a metaphysician, and they didn't hire me for a reason other than my being a theist.)
Second, I know that in my own department, there is a non-negligible subset of the faculty who think that being a theist is a mark against a candidate.
I think that people's experiences are going to vary significantly on this issue, and that one's experience will likely depend more on facts about the members of a deparment than on the kind of school it is (state vs. private, etc...) and one's specific area (M/E, ethics, etc...). Of course, that is also consistent with there still being a difference based upon the kind of school and one's area.
[On a related note, David Lewis has a fascinating and provocative article on hiring that I came across in an anthology when I was at ND; it's in my office and so I don't have access even to the title at the moment. Assuming that my memory is correct, Lewis argues that what a person's views are should matter for hiring, and that our thinking a particular view is wrong gives us reason, though a defeasible one, to not hiring a person who holds that view. If he's correct, then thatcould be a reason for a non-theistically oriented department to be inclined to not hire a theist. I also love the following quotation from the article, which I think is verbatum: "every hire is a battle for the soul of the department."]
just to clarify, when I quoted Zimmerman, I was quoting just his words; he never said anything about Mizzou. he was intending those words to be about the faculty in his own area.
I would love to give my outsider's take. I am a professional academic, but in accounting; and I am a Jew, not a Christian. But I studied both philosophy and Christianity in college.
First, I agree with Tim Lacy above...I thought the anonymous comments on the debate relied very heavily on ad hominem attacks (Dennett was rude, and therefore I can't accept his arguments), and if I were on an ad hoc tenure committee assessing how much Anonymous adds to the academy, I wouldn't be impressed.
Second, I don't find myself convinced by Concerned Philosopher above. Universalists are more likely to be accepted by academic philosophers? Well, I hope so! If your conclusions are ultimately grounded in your religious belief, they had better be pretty darned universal beliefs. Otherwise, your philosophy is driven by your very narrow prior education. To paraphrase remarks from foreign policy decades ago, I would like the Christian and Muslim and Jewish and Mormon philosophers to slug it out with sacks of , and then come to philosophy only with what they all agree is the something that their faiths and beliefs can all accept. Otherwise, what do you offer, other than 'Here is what I was taught when I was young'?
I share the views expressed by the Concerned Philosopher above about DeRose's post and personal experience.
The views of atheist philosophers who do not work in some areas of philosophy, like M&E, and esp., Philosophy of Religion,could be taken with some caution as typically openly hostile or suspicious of theism and theistic philosophy and theists as well. It's fair to say that those philosophers who work in Phil of Religion more than in any other area of philosophy would typically look at theism and theistic philosophers as at least rational and theistic philosophy a worthy and respectable philosophical project. A noted atheist philosopher with whom I had a chance to work and become good friends with (I'm a Christian)has almost always held many Christian philosophers with a very high regard. My being a Christian has almost always animated our philosophical discussions with this philosopher and those conversations that I'd with him are among very good philosophical conversations that I've ever had with any philosopher who does not share my philosophical and religious views. I can't, by any means, generalize that all or even many atheists are such open-minded and fair philosophers to those whose views they think are false or misguided or irrational.
I think by far the best measurement as to how atheist philosophers think about their theistic philosopher colleagues' works seriously and also hold their colleagues with reasonable respect is when the atheist philosophers have an informed view about the state-of-art work in contemporary Phil of Religion by both theists and atheists. Atheist philosophers who hold their theistic philosopher colleagues and also students who happen to be theists with contempt and unfairly because of their religious commitments should read a paper by Quentin Smith titled "The Metaphilosophy of Naturalism" to see what an honest naturalist thinks about such issues.
Overall, generalization about the issue under discussion would not work but then one should not forget that most contemporary naturalists/atheists do not take any religious views with even a modicum of seriousness to merit discussion or philosophical debate and with such dismissive attitude I wonder if they'd SINCERELY AND CONSISTENTLY take their theistic colleagues and the latters' works seriously. I do doubt that and I bet there are more naturalist/atheist philosophers in the profession than that of theists and this fact is worth thinking about. Though it's a fact that there are certainly fair, reasonable, open-minded, tolerant, and noble atheist philosophers who are colleagues and teachers and friends the other fact that should not be ignored is that there are many atheists who'd rarely if ever take theism and theists with any degree of respect and tolerance. This calls for some serious reflection too.
Keith,
It seems to me that holding to universalism would make life as a Christian philosopher much easier than holding to any strain of exclusivism.
Your theology leaves no room for the offense of the gospel. Why would anyone have a problem with a Christian universalist? You believe that all of your colleagues will be "saved." That's good news for everyone, right?
One of the things that has always struck me as interesting about the potential problems facing Christians in a secular environment - and vice versa - is the asymmetry of tolerance expected from each environment. In the above post I detected a a subtle but clear reaffirmation this. It is understandable that an unorthodox belief (such as Christian universalism)would be met with raised eyebrows (or even worse) in Christian institutions - I don't think this should strike anyone as out of the ordinary, especially if such institutions implicitly or explicitly discouraging such applicants. I think that is perfectly fair, in fact. But secular institutions are supposed to provide an environment where such discrimination is prohibited and all beliefs are supposed to be respected, including those of Orthodox Christianity. There is a fundamental problem: to what lengths should a secular institution go to protect the holders of beliefs that directly challenge the spirit of such an institution from the natural discrimination the holder would come to face by professing them around colleagues who do internalize this secular spirit? To put it another way, if a person would willingly accept, and feel comfortable in, a position at an institution that mandates or strongly encourages a certain orthodox worldview, would it be unreasonable to suggest that this inherently disqualifies him from accepting a position at a secular institution in good conscience? I don't think it does necessarily, because I'm not sure how mutually exclusive "orthodox" and "secular" are, but I do think that in accepting such a position one does take on the responsibility of reconciling personal beliefs with the spirit of the environment they freely decide to enter into.
Also, on a personal note, I don't know how many times I - an agnostic who often reads philosophical texts in public - have been appealed to by Christian neighbors, friends and strangers to "keep an open mind" and listen to what they have to say to me, only to find that their version of "open mind" curiously ends at the boundaries of their own interests. For example, say I'm reading Nietzsche in a coffee shop (yeah, I know, I'm a walking cliche) and they'll want to "dialogue". It quickly becomes very clear that they're really not interested in what I'm reading - rather, how their world-view differs from what they assume to be mine, and their goal is hardly to engage ideas. Often they won't even allow a substantive word in edge wise, and I'll politely listen until they're done. Now these are just run of the mill evangelicals; they're not professional philosophers - and I have no doubt that that most professional philosophers who happen to be Christian would not behave this way. I also know the subject at hand is not about my trivial, personal interactions, but I do think it represents a larger cultural point: their appeal to keep an "open mind" comes across as massively disingenuous to me, and in fact abuses the very spirit of the free exchange of ideas. It leaves a very bad taste in my mouth, and this bad taste likely has larger repercussions in the culture as a whole. The philosophical world is one thing, but the larger world is one we all live in. The Christians that most non-Christian philosophers interact with and who want to talk about "philosophy", often might equate "philosophy" with crude evangelizing. Over the years that might have meant exceptionally long plane rides, a lot of one-way conversation, awkward promises to pray for them... I can only speak for myself, but I can see how a cultural bias might develop. I can't imagine that this bias wouldn't penetrate philosophy departments, too.
Having said all of that, I also have to admit a profound respect for Christians who do operate in these environments, because they are doing so in spite of these prejudices. While I can't help being sympathetic to certain prejudices of secular culture, I'd love to see more diverse opinions out there in general. I hope the above post encourages someone out there to charge even harder.
I have at various times been
1. an analytic philosopher in a Continental dep't
2. a Protestant philosopher in a Catholic dep't
3. ditto in a large secular dep't.
I have ranked these in order of unpleasantness. None was unproblematic, but I suspect that most atheists are better colleagues to most Christians than most Continentalists are/would be to most analytic folk.
Christians thinking about philosophical careers shouldn't be deterred by anecdotes about hard times. Some find them, some don't. If God wants you in the profession, He'll put you there. And He didn't promise us trouble-free lives as Christians. Instead He gave us the sufferings of Paul as a model and the promise of His aid.
I've had a professor tell me that the danger of being tagged as a theist is not that you're viewed as holding certain beliefs, but that you're viewed as having an agenda. He was saying that a graduate school candidate who self-identified as a theist would be a red flag to some, the reason being that (in his experience) there's a lot of applicants who are more committed to pushing lines of thought than just doing philosophy. That was the worry (at least with regard to grad school candidates): that being a "theist" meant not making an honest, open effort to learn philosophy.
For my own part I've never experienced much ill treatment by my secular colleagues. I did have a faculty member once who treated every theist in the department with more than mild contempt, but when it came time for work he could be professionally polite. For the most part, I don't think things are all that bad. I have very good relationships with my colleagues and faculty, and on balance my grad school experience has been very positive. However, I do think Christian's doing graduate work in philosophy will have to develop thick skins. I think one can expect some of the following:
- the going assumption that in any gathering of philosophers nobody is a Christian
- that Christianity is an acceptable butt of jokes
- that the far right fringe is closer to norm
- that you are less than fully rational in all of your beliefs
- that arguments for the existence of God are defective because they have obviously false conclusions
- that any appeal to the divine is cheating
- that most Christians in the history of philosophy were closet atheists
In many regards Christians are often treated in much the same way that social/political conservatives are treated. So, if you couple the two together, you can expect something of a rough ride.Like Keith, I hold a certain heterodox position and I've always known that this would exclude me from landing a job at many, even most, Christian colleges. Having these jobs open to them is a considerable advantage for Christians looking to enter the profession. If some of the commenters are correct about discrimination at hiring time, then I am perhaps in the worst position of all.
I opened this by saying that I've never received much ill treatment from my secular colleagues. It seems worth adding that some of the worst treatment I've had has been at the hands of individuals I would have taken to be fellow Christians. Not to mistake, most of the Christian faculty and grad students I've worked with have been fantastic, but there have been the exceptions.
Steven (1st comment): You write:
I have been told that after finishing this master's I should attempt to get into a master's of philosophy program at the best school I can with the intent of pursuing my doctorate there. Is this so? What educational path do you think would be best for someone in my situation?
I believe that most students in PhD programs went straight from finishing their bachelor's degree into a PhD program. Such programs are typically (and maybe always?) designed so that one will obtain a masters degree on the way to their PhDs (and will at least have a masters degree if they make it past the masters point but not all the way through), but one is admitted directly into a program whose end & goal is a PhD.
Fewer students ultimately seeking a PhD in philosophy, but still a *substantial* minority of them, first go through a terminal M.A. program in philosophy, and then apply to PhD programs. These are often students who, for a variety of reasons, would be unlikely to get into a good PhD program directly, and have reason to think they might do substantially better having gone through an M.A. program. One such reason for many students is that they don't have a substantial enough background in philosophy -- maybe they weren't philosophy majors in college; maybe they were philosophy majors, but were in a college where the philosophy majors didn't take the kinds of courses that PhD programs are looking for as background. Such M.A. programs work very well for some students. I've talked with several who applied to PhD programs upon leaving college, and didn't get into any, or didn't get into any very good ones, but who then did get into excellent, and even top, programs after completing a good M.A. So while it's usually preferable to, when possible, enter a good PhD program directly (for other reasons, they often have better financial support for their students, though I think more M.A. programs are starting to offer better aid), many have profited from going through an M.A.
What you wrote above sounds to me like some kind of cross between these two paths. When someone suggests getting a masters in philosophy, they *probably* have in mind a terminal M.A. program. But then you likely wouldn't be ultimately receiving your PhD degree from the same school. (Many of the terminal M.A. programs are at schools that don't offer PhDs in philosophy. Some terminal M.A. programs I think do exist side-by-side with PhD programs (there is then an important distinction between those who are admitted to the PhD program, and will just be getting the M.A. along the way, and those who are only admitted into the terminal M.A. program), but then I think you have to apply to the PhD program just like all other applicants if you want to make the jump from one program to the other, with no presumption that you'll get in (though it may help -- but also may hurt, I suppose -- that the faculty at the program know you).
Whether it's wise to go straight into a PhD program, or to first seek a terminal M.A. varies greatly from case to case, so there's not much I can say without a lot of details (and even then, it might be hard to say). Many students apply to both kinds of programs, and then decide based in part on which applications succeed. Others (those with very spotty backgrounds) are well-advised not to even apply to PhD programs at first.
KT, I would love to get the reference for that David Lewis paper if you're able to find it!
I suppose this brings up an important question that I think the recent discussions here have been avoiding: to what extent is the discrimination against theistic philosophers *fair* discrimination? Try to see things from the perspective of someone who thinks that the available evidence makes theism wildly implausible. Is it unreasonable for such a person to discriminate (say, in hiring practices) against a theist? Compare: is it unreasonable for the members of a chemistry department to discriminate against proponents of the phlogiston theory of combustion?
Dustin,
The Lewis paper is called "Mill and Milquetoast", I think. Regardless, I know that it's in volume 3 of his later collected papers, the one on social philosophy and ethics.
Also, as to your question: I don't think the comparison to phlogiston theory is a good one. First, phlogiston theory is supposed to be a scientific explanation, one that's discredited. Not all theists endorse theism because they think it explains things well, other than perhaps their own religious experiences. Second, surely there are almost no philosophical theories that are as indubitable as certain bedrock scientific theories. Given the history of our discipline, it seems to me to be quite arrogant to think that we've finally figured out, say, that naturalism is the best metaphysic (which is what Bernie Williams wrote in one of his essays some time ago) when just a 100 years ago all the Brits were idealists. Third, there are a lot of super-sophisticated philosophers who are theists.
I wonder about issues related to that brought up in dtlocke's comment (two above) in comment #13 of the old discussion linked to above: it's available here. See also Brian Leiter's comment #48. As I point out, philosophers are passed over for working on topics or for having philosophical views that those who are doing the hiring consider stupid all over philosophy, not just in philosophy of religion. This raises many very difficult issues.
Whether this is actually fair discrimination is a huge question that I doubt we can settle here. In connection with it (but in no attempt to settle it), I'll just make one observation: Issues in philosophy of religion, especially concerning the existence of God (and super-especially involving the problem of evil, for some reason) seem to be, in my experience at least (and others can report their own), the philosophical issues with respect to which you will run into the greatest combination (often, I find, an absolutely stunning combination) in philosophers who don't work in the area (among those on both the theist and atheist sides) of an assured confidence of what the answers are to the big questions together with ignorance (often approaching total ignorance) of any of the recent work on the issues.
This of course doesn't apply to everyone: There are people with very well-informed and well-reasoned views on both sides. But in this post in which we're focused on potential pitfalls for those entering the profession, what's especially relevant is that, on issues concerning God's existence, compared with other philosophical issues, you're much more likely to run up against philosophers who aren't experts but who possess an astounding confidence about the answers despite not knowing much of the most important work on the questions.
Actually, I believe the Lewis paper KT has in mind is "Academic Appointments: Why Ignore the Advantage of Being Right?" and is reprinted in David Lewis's "Papers in Ethics and Social Philosophy" (Cambridge Univ Press). "Mill and Milquetoast" is also in that volume...
Yes, the paper I had in mind is the one mentioned by Matt Benton.
ob, I figured someone would bring up your first point, and I'm glad to see it was you!
As for your first point, I don't think the crucial question is whether "not all theists endorse theism because they think it explains things well". The crucial question is whether the philosophers doing the discriminating think that theism is (roughly) as wildly implausible as physicists think that phlogiston theory is. On what particular grounds theists hold their theism, and thus in what particular way the discriminating philosophers think that the theists are being irrational is, as far as I can tell, beside the point.
As for your second point, I don't think you're really saying very much. You write, "surely there are almost no philosophical theories that are as indubitable as certain bedrock scientific theories." In other words, there are SOME scientific theories that are more indubitable than MOST philosophical theories. Absolutely! But what does that have to do with whether the negation of theism is as indubitable as the negation of phlogiston theory? More importantly, what does it have to do with whether *the philosophers doing the discriminating* (have good grounds to) think that the negation of theism is as indubitable as the negation of phlogiston theory?
(As a side note, it's interesting that you mention the fact that "just 100 years ago all Brits were idealists" as support for the claim that we should not be so arrogant as to think that naturalism is correct the metaphysic. As it happens, just 150 years ago (nearly) all Brits accepted the caloric theory of heat. Does this mean we should not be so arrogant as to think that the kinetic theory is the best theory of heat?)
As for your third point, I stated my position on that in the comments to the post on the Plantinga-Dennett exchange.
Christians have to be realistic, and hopeful. When I was on the market several years ago, I had inside information that a reason I didn't make the cut from 15 interviewed at the APA to the 3 brought to campus was my MA from a Christian college. I didn't have a diverse enough education, or something along those lines. However, that same year, I was offered and accepted a tenure track job in a great department with colleagues who know what I believe but are tolerant in the best sense of the term. So, there will be opposition, but there can still be a place for you.
I'll call him dtlocke wrote:
"I don't think the crucial question is whether "not all theists endorse theism because they think it explains things well". The crucial question is whether the philosophers doing the discriminating think that theism is (roughly) as wildly implausible as physicists think that phlogiston theory is. On what particular grounds theists hold their theism, and thus in what particular way the discriminating philosophers think that the theists are being irrational is, as far as I can tell, beside the point."
OK, that's fair enough. Your comparison to phlogiston theory made me think that the atheists thought theism to be as implausible as phlogiston theory because they took theism, like phlogiston theory, to be a wildly implausible explanation. But you were talking about level of perceived implausibility, not the diagnosis for the level of perceived implausibility.
"In other words, there are SOME scientific theories that are more indubitable than MOST philosophical theories. Absolutely! But what does that have to do with whether the negation of theism is as indubitable as the negation of phlogiston theory? More importantly, what does it have to do with whether *the philosophers doing the discriminating* (have good grounds to) think that the negation of theism is as indubitable as the negation of phlogiston theory?"
Well, it seems to me that there are two big kinds of reasons to think that theism is wildly implausible: (1) it's much less plausible than metaphysical alternative X; and (2) it's internally incoherent.
Why would someone endorse (1)? One reason is that they think another alternative to theism--naturalism, let's stipulate--is so much more plausible. And why do they think that naturalism is so much more plausible? One reason for thinking this is that naturalism is true. It's to anyone who holds those two views--theism is less plausible than naturalism, and this is because naturalism is true--to whom I would counsel humility. I'm basically saying, if you look at the history of philosophy you'll see lots and lots of people quite confidently pronouncing, as undeniable, views we now take to be unacceptable. Since naturalism may very well end up like that, you should be less confident in those naturalistic presuppositions of yours that lead you to mock theism.
Another approach to take, though, would be indecision between two views--say, naturalism and anti-realism (by which I mean an approach of the sorts taken by Rorty or Brandom). You think both have a lot going for them, but neither is obviously better than the other. However, you're convinced that both are certainly better than theism, so you think discriminating against someone for being a theist is permissible, because the view is so silly.
What to say against this person? Well, a few things. First, I'd want to say that, just as we should be skeptical of holding metaphysical views with too much certitude (more on that later), we should be skeptical of dismissing metaphysical views with too much prejudice. For, not only does history show us that philosophical views held with certitude ended up being ridiculed, so too it shows us that views that were once ridiculed ended up becoming regnant. Second, chances are, the person indifferent between naturalism and anti-realism has met a few anti-realists who think that naturalism is too ridiculous to be maintained and (probably several) naturalists who thought quite little of anti-realism. I think that such experiences should at least give one pause (and yes, to answer an obvious objection, I think Christians should at least pause about being exclusivist).
On the other hand, what if you believe (2)--that is, what if you believe that theism is internally incoherent? Well, in that case, I should think that you should have at least put some energy into pursuing that line of thought. For example, have you talked with philosophically competent Christians about those objections? Have you been completely stymied or have they had something to say? Second, what sort of incoherence do you attribute to it? Is it an out-and-out logical incoherence, where you think you have a possibility disproof (or an impossibility proof) of the 3-O God? Or is it pointing to think that look incomprehensible? If the latter, then of course people can point to similar problems for naturalism--e.g., mind-body problems and problems about normativity. (I don't know anti-realism enough to say what the standard criticisms are.)
Hi again, Rob. You write:
"I'm basically saying, if you look at the history of philosophy you'll see lots and lots of people quite confidently pronouncing, as undeniable, views we now take to be unacceptable. Since naturalism may very well end up like that, you should be less confident in those naturalistic presuppositions of yours that lead you to mock theism."
First, I haven't been talking about "mocking" theism---I've been talking about whether certain kinds of discriminations against theists (e.g., in hiring practice) are reasonable.
But more importantly, notice that you could run the same argument you're running here with respect to phlogiston theory.
(Scientists reject the phlogiston theory of combustion because they accept the oxygen theory of combustion. But if you look back at the history of science 'you'll see lots and lots of people quite confidently pronouncing, as undeniable, views we now take to be unacceptable'. 'Since [the oxygen theory of combustion] may very well end up like that, you should be less confident in those [oxygen theory] presuppositions of yours that lead you to [discriminate against phlogiston theorists]'.)
In fact, philosophers of science have a name for this kind of argument: 'the pessimistic meta-induction'. Well, this isn't exactly the pessimistic meta-induction. The pessimistic meta-induction ends with a conclusion such as 'thus, it's unreasonable to accept current theory X', not 'thus, it's unreasonable to discriminate (e.g., in hiring practices) against proponents of theory Y'. As far as I know, no philosopher of science has run the latter kind of argument, and I hope you agree that the latter kind of argument---the one put in parentheses above---is a poor argument indeed. My question for you then is why accept the analogous argument in terms of naturalism and theism?
Note: I'm not saying that there isn't a good argument to the conclusion that the discrimination against theists is unreasonable; I'm simply challenging whether the pessimistic meta-induction is it.
Prof. DeRose,
I have a similar observation w/r/t sexual ethics. I've been researching the literature on sexual perversions for a couple years now, and I find the issues to be difficult and complex. Yet, I find that many professional philosophers who seem to know little about the work done in that subject to not only think that they're obviously right, but that those who disagree are wrong, flawed, bigoted, and/or stupid.
Dustin writes:
"philosophers of science have a name for this kind of argument: 'the pessimistic meta-induction'. Well, this isn't exactly the pessimistic meta-induction. The pessimistic meta-induction ends with a conclusion such as 'thus, it's unreasonable to accept current theory X', not 'thus, it's unreasonable to discriminate (e.g., in hiring practices) against proponents of theory Y'. As far as I know, no philosopher of science has run the latter kind of argument, and I hope you agree that the latter kind of argument---the one put in parentheses above---is a poor argument indeed. My question for you then is why accept the analogous argument in terms of naturalism and theism?"
Well, the difference between science and philosophy--and the reason why the pessimistic meta-induction doesn't work for science--is that certain theories are, indeed, never overthrown, and we have strong reason to believe they will never be overthrown (or such, anyway, is the response of David Papineau). I mean, the oxygen theory that replaced the phlogiston theory can be observed and confirmed in a much more substantial way than naturalism can, I think. Similarly, that water is H2O can be observed and confirmed in a way that naturalism can't. I should think these will never change.
As for philosophy, the theory I should want to hold is that the fact that observation of the history of the discipline should make us lack some confidence in the view that a philosophical theory, assuming it's been espoused by at least some sophisticated philosophers in the past and present, is so certainly correct that we can discriminate in favor of its adherents, or so certainly wrong that we can discriminate against its adherents.
Robert Gressis: I don't think one needs to posit naturalism or any other alternative theory in order to find the arguments for religious belief implausible.
I think such arguments need at least two steps.
Step One: theism. We speculate about whether there might be one or more deities and whether any of them might have created anything. I shrug my shoulders, and the theist offers various arguments. These arguments might persuade us to continue shrugging our shoulders. At most, the arguments don't do anything like establishing that theism is true, but suppose we grant, arguendo, that they do enough to make theism slightly more plausible than its denial.
Step Two: religious belief. I wonder what the nature of this deity or deities might be? Did they create one or more planets/universes? Are they still around?
The arguments one hears for moving from theism to belief in particular deities seem extraordinarily implausible to me. Perhaps this is because, as Prof. DeRose suggests, I am unfamiliar with recent work on the subject. However, I think everyone should be unimpressed with the following sort of argument:
(1) There are some books, a shroud, etc., (2) many of the historical details in the books seem to be roughly true, and (3) the apostles wouldn't have made that stuff up, therefore (4) the Christian deity (or deities) exist(s).
Am I wrong to dismiss this sort of argument? If not, what other arguments are on offer?
Hi Keith,
Interesting discussion. As you know, I went to a grad school that had a lot of theists among the grad students. The main reason for this was that, at the time, two of the most prominent Christian philosophers (William Alston and Peter van Inwagen) were on the faculty. I must admit that I was surprised when I got there to find so many theist philosophers. As an undergrad in the UK I naively assumed that almost all philosophers were atheists. (This was particularly naive, given that one of my undergrad philosophy teachers was a theist. But I had no idea.) I was persuaded to join a philosophy of religion discussion group. The organizer, a fellow grad student who is now a well-known philosopher of religion, wanted an atheist in the group "to keep it honest". I was very impressed by the intellectual honesty and philosophical ability of the other members of that group. We all seemed to be motivated by an honest desire to seek the truth. We disagreed of course, that is I disagreed with the rest of them, about what the truth is, but I respected their views as being self-consciously subject to critical appraisal. This experience formed my view of the ideal philosophical approach to religious beliefs.
I, and many of my fellow atheists, are not prejudiced against theists, but we are prejudiced against dogmatic theists. But that is because we are prejudiced against dogmatism in general. I have had religious colleagues in every department in which I have taught. None of them is dogmatic. I have great respect for all of them, as do their other non-religious colleagues. I disagree profoundly with kantian ethics, but I have had many treasured colleagues who are kantians. None of them is dogmatic. I would vote enthusiastically to hire Tom Hill, and just as adamantly against hiring Christine Korsgaard (not that either one would apply for a job in Boulder, but they don't know what they're missing).
There may be, indeed there most probably are, some atheist philosophers who are prejudiced against theists in general, and not just dogmatic theists. This is certainly unfortunate, but it is really no different from the many other irrational prejudices that grip us. In terms of getting or losing out on jobs, I would guess that more people have been denied jobs because of philosophical views unrelated to their religious beliefs, than because of their theism. I know of at least two departments that interviewed me on campus, and then decided that they couldn't stomach hiring a consequentialist. Apparently, my moral views, although defended (I think ably) in many publications, were simply beyond the pale. I also know of departments in which leading members openly express the view that utilitarianism is simply too immoral a theory to be taught to students.
One thing to bear in mind is that, whether or not there is some de facto discrimination against theists in our profession, there is a fair bit of de jure discrimination in favor of theists. I know of no philosophy job advertised in the last 20 years for which being an atheist was an official necessary condition. I know of many for which being an atheist was an official disqualifying condition. At least two of my friends from grad school got jobs for which I couldn't even have been considered (unless I was prepared to lie). In fact, one of them got his job because he was not only a theist, but a Methodist. The school had some kind of quota system (all Christian of course), and needed a Methodist that year. This was particularly ironic, given that he was (and still is, I think) an outspoken critic of affirmative action! There are also some departments in religious schools that are quite open to hiring atheists, but for which theism (sometimes a particular brand of theism) would be an additional positive factor in an applicant. I have no idea whether the various prejudices, official and unofficial, balance out in favor of theists or against them. If I had to guess, it would be that the balance works out in favor of being a theist. Of course, that's just in terms of sheer numbers of jobs, without taking quality of job into account.
Since posting my last comment, I've taken the time to look at some of the old thread Keith linked to. I see that what I say in my last paragraph is very similar to what Keith says in his post #50 in the old thread. Knowing how smart Keith is, I now have more confidence in my guess that being a theist may be a net benefit on the job market.
So what do NON-UNIVERSALISTS (exclusivists?) believe????
I'd bet I'm a pretty typical atheist philosopher in a good department.
I think it's irrational to believe, based on all our evidence, that the moon is watching us. If someone was up for a job at my school whom I knew had that belief, I would offer very low odds that I'd vote to hire them. Still, if their actual work produced important advances in epistemology or metaphysics (not "just" the met and ep of undetectable moon visual apparatus), it would be easy to shrug off their eccentric delusion. The reason my prior odds are so low is that I'd wager that anyone with that belief wasn't very good at rational argument--that the resistance of that belief to reason wasn't an isolated matter but had a pervasive cause.
My priors about theists are much higher, for at least three reasons. First, I take the likely causes of that kind of benightedness to be more likely to be theism-specific--a need to fit in with a family or community tradition, to believe in eternal life for one's loved ones, etc. Second, anyone who has spent any time around the profession knows more than a few amazing, brilliant philosophers who have also been theists. Third, there is a well-known history of important philosophy being done in service of defending this recalcitrant falsehood.
I should say, however, that this last reason is (at least in my case) the weakest, as (based on my sporadic exposure to what seem to be highly-regarded examples), there does not seem to be a lot of recent important philosophy to issue from defenses or elaborations of theistic beliefs. This is why my priors would be reduced if the candidate proposed to focus on philosophy of religion.
My priors, if rational, are of course not explained only by beliefs about the causes and correlates of theism but also about non-theists (the overwhelming majority of whom, too, are not excellent philosophers), and in fact I don't think I have overall a lower prior hiring probability conditional on a candidate's being a theist rather than a non-theist (relative to the proportion of theists in the typical applicant pool).
Irrelevant though a single data point may be, there have been theists in each of the several analytic departments I have worked in, and those I knew were esteemed by the atheists among us very highly compared to the rest of us (despite their theism).
From my perspective, theism is a bemusing form of irrationality, which, like intellectual stubbornness, or an attraction to "surprising" philosophical views, seems prima facie problematic, but in practice doesn't have much predictive value. My stong sense is that many of my atheist peers share this perspective.
Rob. You write:
"I mean, the oxygen theory that replaced the phlogiston theory can be observed and confirmed in a much more substantial way than naturalism can, I think."
Note that you have switched arguments: it's not merely that past philosophical views have come to be rejected; it's that this particular philosophical view (naturalism) has not been, you claim, sufficiently "confirmed". But of course this is exactly the point at which many of the discriminating philosophers disagree: they hold that naturalism is as well confirmed as the oxygen theory of combustion. Supposing for the moment that their view here is rational, isn't it then reasonable for them to discriminate in certain ways (e.g., in hiring practices) against theists?
Jon the Jew,
I think it's that some people won't ever be saved.
I believe that some of Concerned Philosopher’s comments have significant merit. Several years ago, sociologist Kieran Healy studied the data on which the then-current PGR rankings were based. He found that there was a high degree of consensus among the PGR’s evaluators about the factors meriting high over-all rankings for a department, as follows:
(1) strengths in metaphysics and the philosophy of language make the greatest contribution to a department’s overall ranking;
(2) strengths in the philosophy of mind, of science, epistemology, ethics, as well as certain historical areas (ancient, 17th century, 18th century and Kant/German Idealism) make significant contributions, but not so much as metaphysics and language;
(3) strengths in Continental philosophy, Medieval philosophy, or the philosophy of religion contribute little.
Thus, Concerned Philosopher might be onto something when s/he suggests that Keith’s positive experience might be due to his being in the M&E camp, and that things might be different for people - as many aspiring Christian philosophers naturally are - “interested in metaphysical and epistemological traditions associated with theology, such as medieval theology”, or, we might add, in the philosophy of religion.
Of course the bias might not be directly anti-theistic. Maybe it’s directly anti-medieval or anti phil. religion, and anti-theistic only indirectly and per accidens. And perhaps it is not even anti-anything, but more a function of enough people being so pro-M&E that some other topics get left out in the cold unintentionally. But why just these topics, one might wonder? And why does so much attention go to M&E – specifically to M&E done in contemporary analytic style. Why be so unbalanced in the way we value these different specializations? It seems to me that there are some unjustified biases here that tend to bear negatively on theists, even if they’re not directly and purposefully aimed at theists.
Darn it, Alastair, if we can't count on people like you to have irrational prejudices against theists, on whom may we depend?
Seriously, my career-long friendship with Alastair is, I think, instructive here: although I never doubted for a moment that Alastair was contemptuous of theism, I've never once felt that he was contemptuous toward me. He finds my theism irrational; I think pretty much the same of his unabashed act utilitarianism. Still, there is no denying that Norcross is one smart (and kind) guy. And while I'd never pretend to be his intellectual equal, I believe there is mutual respect despite our rather substantial philosophical and religious differences.
Maybe that is something we could all shoot for: mutual respect even while we find each other's deepest commitments baffling.
Tom
"And why does so much attention go to M&E – specifically to M&E done in contemporary analytic style."
As for the first part of this phrase, I would guess that a part of the reason for the attention may be the perceived fundamentality of M&E, as opposed to, say, ethics or political philosophy. (I myself think this is somewhat confused, not least because epistemology is a branch of ethics. :-) )
As for the second, there is an odd tension between this and the disregard for medieval philosophy, since metaphysics done in contemporary analytic style is basically the same as metaphysics done in scholastic style, though sometimes minus the theistic assumptions.
To reply to some of the questions/concerns some comments have raised... I doubt my being a Christian universalist made me much less likely to be discriminated against than other Christians. While, as I wrote, I've always had items on my CV that would mark me out as at least being a potential Christian, it's only been in the last few years that there's been anything on there suggesting the possibility that I might be a universalist. And, as other comments have suggested, I don't think those inclined to discriminate against Christians would really care that much what side that issue one comes down on. They typically think theism in general is just dumb. Some of them think Christianity has some stupidities particular to itself, and I suppose that insofar as they see a very nasty doctrine of hell to be part of Christianity, and one of its especially stupid features ("If Christianity would just be less exclusivist, it would be quite sensible"?), they might view someone like me as less objectionable than some other Christians. But I suspect such highly discriminating discriminators wouldn't be plentiful enough to likely make much of a difference to people's experience.
Might things be tougher for conservative (politically and ideologically) Christians? Perhaps, but I wonder what we're thinking of here. In hiring situations, issues of just what shade of Christian one is are unlikely to come up. But I guess that certain types -- types that might have some correlations with being conservative -- might not get along with non-Christian philosophers very well, and this might hurt their professional prospects, as word about how poorly one "gets along" with one's colleagues gets out. As Alastair points out, many will be prejudiced against dogmatic theists, because they're prejudiced against dogmatic philosophers generally. In my experience, dogmatism in Christianity is positively correlated with conservatism. There is some pressure in certain circles of American (& probably other places, too, of course, but I'm more familiar with the American scene) evangelical Christianity to act and to be very certain of one's Christian beliefs, and then to engage non-Christians in certain ways, in which you are and come across as being very certain (you know the answer), and your job is to convert the other. If you're like that with colleagues and/or students in secular schools in certain ways, that could well be trouble. [If at work you're going to be this guy (the authoritative one, as described at the link by the internetmonk, one of my favorite Christian bloggers), that's not going to go over very well.] If you're going to behave in various discriminating ways against GLBT colleagues and/or students, that could well be trouble, even if you consider such behavior to be demanded by your faith. It's very tough to specify just where the lines are (and also where they should be) on issues like this, and I'm not here even trying to specify where those lines are, but just to indicate some of the areas where issues may come up.
Then there's what you work on. "Concerned Philosopher" (2nd comment), writes:
A sufficiently liberal Christian (theologically and politically) will be far more tolerated than one that is 'conservative' in the standard senses. What if you worked on bioethics and thought Leon Kass was onto something, or if you wrote about the political philosophy of Robert George instead of contextualism?
Well, yes, then I'd very likely be in trouble -- esp. if, as seems the likely reading here, we're talking about my working on the political philosophy of Robert George as my main thing, as the prime answer, instead of "contextualism," to the question: "What does he write on?" But look, first, if the main thing you write on is another philosopher or thinker, that philosopher had better be Kant, or one of a very few others, to not be pretty severely limiting your prospects -- and most philosophers, if they've heard of Robert George at all, are very unlikely to think he's up there with the likes of Kant. (Here I'm talking about "what you write on" in a fairly stable way, rather than what you happen to be writing at a particular relatively short time. For some limited periods of time, at various points in my career -- e.g., as I wrote up certain discussion papers -- the answer to the question of what I was writing about at the time would have been "Plantinga", or "David Lewis", or "Descartes". And that's not a problem. But a particular person would never have been the main answer to the question of what I more stably "write about".) But, more importantly, we seem be thinking in terms of "conservatives" as having particular topics or areas that they will be working on, as main areas of their research -- areas that aren't recognized in the general philosophical world as important. And, yes, that could, and very likely would, be trouble. Generally (Christian or not), if you're not working on issues or topics that those in the world of secular philosophy consider philosophically important, then you are hurting your chances in that world, and one shouldn't expect that a special exemption from that fact of life will be extended to those whose philosophically unorthodox choices of topics are tied up with their faith in certain ways.
(Some I think do enter graduate school with plans to study issues tied tightly to their faith that secular philosophers will find unimportant, and then to teach at Christian colleges where such topics are taken to be much more important. That can work out fine, I suppose. But that's very different from hoping to succeed in more secular settings while working on topics not considered important in those settings.)
So, yes, of course, certain Christians will have a very hard time in the world of secular philosophy departments, and I wouldn't want to be encouraging any of those to enter what may be for them a minefield. But my worry has been that those who are not like that, but who worry that their just being (openly) Christian (or theistic, or religious) might in itself be a severe obstacle, even if the way they carry their faith isn't such as to render especially problematic their professional relations with students and colleagues. My goal has been to hopefully contribute to a more balanced view of the situation such Christians may face by adding my more positive experience, and some other considerations, into the mix.
"In hiring situations, issues of just what shade of Christian one is are unlikely to come up."
Well, if among one's publications there is, say, a paper defending traditional Christian views in sexual ethics, or defending the pro-life position, or the like, then some aspect of the question may well come up. For instance, when I was hired at Georgetown, I got the impression that every single thing I ever published was read by someone in that Department, and a number of unpublished papers on my website were read as well. I ended up having a good e-mail discussion of a then-unpublished paper on abortion with a non-theist on the hiring committee, and then during the interview a good discussion of homosexuality with him/her (my interlocutor respectfully and intelligently disagreed with my position in both cases).
So for me, it did come up, but it worked out well. However, it might not have worked out in the same way at a secular institution, or if I were dealing with someone who wasn't as broad-minded as my interlocutor.
I am not presenting any evidence for the "might not" claim here, just for the claim that the issue can easily come up, especially if the hiring Department does a good job of reading what one has written.
(Minor qualification to my post: When I said that everything I published was read, the quantifier should be restricted to philosophical papers. I don't think anybody in the Department read my publications in pure mathematics, though I think they showed one or two of them to a mathematician and/or ran my CV by him.)
In response to Alexander:
It’s plausible to think that some of the emphasis on M&E has to do with the fundamentality of the issues, but I don’t think that that’s the whole story. To get at the rest of it, I think we need to focus more directly on the areas in Healy's top tier: metaphysics and phil. language. So let me reframe the question to read: why give so much attention to metaphysics and phil. language, specifically as done in contemporary analytic style?” And let’s note that “contemporary analytic style” has frequently involved approaching metaphysics through the philosophy of language (Kripke, etc.).
Now, it seems to me that the reason this combination of fields is at the center of interest in the analytic world is that it constitutes the “closest continuer” of the original analytic attempt to turn philosophy into linguistic analysis. And, as I see it, that project was tailor-made to meet the demands of a widespread scientism/naturalism/positivism in Anglo-American intellectual culture at the turn of the 20th century. To elaborate on this would take too much space, and I don’t want to hijack Keith’s blog (not that he’d let me anyhow), so I’ll just let my claim stand on its own and point out how it’s relevant to the issue of a possible anti-Christian bias in philosophy:
If turn-of-the-20thC-scientism was intrinsically inhospitable to religion, and if the original analytic project was an attempt to fit philosophy into that paradigm, then it too was intrinsically inhospitable to religion (and, of course, both were). And, if the contemporary bias in favor of metaphysics and phil. language, usually in combination, is due to their being the closest continuer of the original analytic project, then it is reasonable to suppose that this bias is driven by some of the same ideals that the original project was – otherwise, why try to stay as close to the original project as possible? But if the original ideals were inhospitable to religion, then there’s a good chance that those now driving the bias are too.
Obviously, there’s a lot of detail to be filled in here. As I said, I won’t attempt that here, but I believe it can be done (and in fact I have tried to do some of it in my own work). But let’s do note that this way of looking at the situation explains the otherwise odd fact, to which Alexander drew attention, that analysts tend to strongly favor contemporary metaphysics over medieval metaphysics. If the ideals governing current biases are intrinsically inhospitable to religion, the explicitly religious content of the medieval material would be reason to ignore it even though it is stylistically similar to contemporary analytic metaphysics.
Hello Aaron,
Its good to "see" you. I liked what you said, and agree with much of it, but it is also my sense that this situation has been changing. Chisholm and Chisholm's students are not without influence. No one is a logical positivist anymore, and it seems that the recent philosophical literature includes a lot more of genuine "first philosophy" than we saw, e.g. in the 1970s and 80s (let alone the 1930s!!).
Hi Gordon,
Great to "see" you, too - it's been too long. I completely agree with your observation. Analytic philosophy - or at least philosophy in the analytic context - is continually moving further away from its original identity and prejudices, and in the direction of something like pluralism. And yet some of these prejudices still persist, at least in various sectors of the analytic world. And so long as they present a pattern clear enough for a sociologist to pick out, I think it's worth keeping on the alert about them.