Is philosophy totally useless?

“When will we ever need to know this? What’s the point?” The question is a semester killer. Until now, most of your students have trudged through the blizzard of information that is your class, naively assuming there is a point. Now they are all jutted upright in exasperation, waiting for your assurances. Surely, you will assuage them with purpose. You are the teacher. You will know why.

“Because it will be on the test,” you say. You blew it. You just told them your class is nothing more than a hurdle to college and career. You serve no purpose but to stand in the way. You are a speed bump. But, this isn’t why you became an expert in your field. You didn’t major in this because it was on the test. Why did you need to know this?

A better answer would have been to show students what they could do with the knowledge you provide. Want to launch rockets? Here’s how to use physics to get your first one going. Like travel? Here’s how to use Spanish to get an experience the average tourist could never hope for. Like money? Here’s how to use math to make it rain. Most people won’t go on to be teachers in your subject—which is good because if everyone were a teacher, we’d have no food, shelter, or surfboards. Showing students how your knowledge helps them do what they want to do makes your knowledge something they want.

However, that’s probably not why you majored in this. It isn’t usually the case that Physics teachers are just former rocket scientists, Spanish teachers are just travelers, or Math teachers are just rich (or have any money at all). No, there is something about the knowledge itself that fascinates people. It should be mind-blowing that we can use physical equations to perfectly plan the trajectory of a projectile. It should be incredible that we can describe how an entire language works through a few rules. It should be awesome that we can use numbers to predict the future of a market. That’s what inspires people to dedicate themselves to something. When knowledge is for the sake of something else it is good, but only as a means to an end. When knowledge is for its own sake, then it is good in and of itself.

There is precious little you can do with the philosophy. You won’t send anyone to the moon, you won’t communicate with foreigners (though you’ll sound like one), and you definitely won’t make money (believe me). But that isn’t why people study it in the first place. After years of teaching philosophy, I am convinced now more than ever that it houses the questions people love most. What are we: souls, animals, machines, illusions? What is happiness and what is the point of this life? Is God real and if so what is God like? How can I know whether this is all just a dream or that I’m not the only person among very realistic robots? Is it better to save a life or respect cultural beliefs? Some have argued that these questions are pointless. Maybe. Some say they are a waste of time. Okay. But, no one says they are uninteresting. And, if something done for its own sake is good, then it is good to philosophize.