“Proper education arouses intellectual curiosity”

“Proper education arouses intellectual curiosity” Nathan Ballantyne (ASU) continues his wonderful series of thoughtful, in-depth interviews of philosophers, The Workbench, with a conversation with Paul Gooch (Toronto). . The conversation is wide-ranging, with many amusing anecdotes (including one about the role Richard Taylor’s dog played at a dissertation defense), interesting reflections on various aspects of being a philosophy professor, a discussion of what “Canadian Philosophy” is, and thoughts about the limits of philosophy. Here’s one part of the interview that focused on teaching: Gooch: As Plato pointed out in the Phaedrus, written texts can’t answer your questions, so the conversation is one-way. (Of course, he made the claim about the inadequacy of the written word in writing.) You talk to yourself when you read. That’s not teaching. I was fortunate to learn very early on that teaching isn’t just about getting my own thoughts in order; it’s an interaction that has to take into account the place the student inhabits. Unsurprisingly, another fifty years on I argued that education is best understood as a kind of conversation involving interlocutors—not a surprising view given my interest in Socrates (who wrote nothing himself). Ballantyne: How is that different from the so-called Socratic method? Gooch: It’s certainly different. I don’t mean interrogation to deflate intellectual pretense. Socrates’ victims don’t participate in the dialogue beyond the occasional answer. In fact, I once wrote a poem titled “As I said to Socrates the other day,” which was only a series of Yes, No, Maybe, with ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go now’ as the ending. Proper education arouses intellectual curiosity that asks to know, and the teacher must be open to interrogation as well as the student. I want the conversation to be interrogative in both directions, between teacher and student. Ballantyne: What have you done to keep your students talking? Gooch: Early in my career I tried to get my students to do more than tell me what I told them. I often told them not to trust the teacher, but rather the argument. And sometimes I tested them—by going to my Philosophy of Religion class and beginning the lecture by summarizing what I had said the previous week—except that I took my Ancient Philosophy notes and talked from them. I wanted to see if anyone would interrupt… The full interview is here. And here’s the poem Gooch mentioned in the foregoing excerpt: “AS I SAID TO SOCRATES THE OTHER DAY…” Yes, that’s what I think it is. Clearly. Well, if you want to know about that, yes, that’s true. No. I should say not. Of course. Perhaps. Perhaps, again. If you make me choose, yes. Sometimes, I think. Alright, on all occasions. No, I hadn’t seen… Well, now that you point it out, I guess not. No, not at all. I guess I didn’t. It would be pretty difficult to think that now. No. I’m not sure I could. Well, thank you very much, but… Really, I’d better not keep him waiting. Goodbye. — Paul Gooch