Levels of Philosophy
Levels of Philosophy
Tennis players talk about their level. Some players play at a higher level than others: their abilities exceed those of others. In this vein we may speak of a player as at a different level from his potential rivals—a cut above, in a different class or league. We might even say that a single player plays at a different and higher level than all other players living or dead. Can we say the same of philosophers? I think not. Certainly, some philosophers are better than others, but I don’t think anyone stands out as in a class of his own, as operating at a higher level than anyone else. Nor do I think a select few occupy a level that others can’t reach. I don’t think the rationalists operate at a higher philosophical level than the empiricists, say. I don’t think Kant is at a higher level than Hume (or Locke or Berkeley): he is not better at philosophy (as Alcaraz is better at tennis). I don’t think Wittgenstein is at a higher philosophical level than Russell (or vice versa). I think some artists and writers are at a higher level than others (Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Nabokov, Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Poussin). The Beatles are at a higher level than other rock bands. And so on. But philosophers seem to be equal in their level (though not in their proximity to truth) in the upper echelons. Just list all the famous philosophers in history—do you think any of them are head and shoulders above others in raw philosophical ability? I think the same can be said of physicists and mathematicians—much of a muchness. The human brain seems to max out at a certain point in these areas; no one is above all the rest (or some small group). There is no singular philosophical superstar standing out from all others—not even Plato and Aristotle, stellar as they were. Such a one is conceivable, but none is actual.
And yet even the very best philosophers are startlingly limited. They are limited in scope, clarity, creativity, and staying power. It seems logically possible that someone could stand out from the pack in these respects. For a while it seemed that Wittgenstein could be such a one, but that dream has crumbled, dramatically so. It was tempting for a few years to think that Kripke could be the singular superstar, but that hope has also faded with the passage of time (if only he could have gone on producing work at the level of Naming and Necessity!). All men are mortal, I guess. There have been many excellent philosophers, but no one whose level surpassed that of others (no Shakespeare or Michelangelo or Simone Biles). In fact, the limitations are as evident as the achievements: Kant’s grotesque prose style, Wittgenstein’s obscurity, Russell’s overconfidence, Kripke’s lack of productivity (neurosis), Quine’s behaviorist myopia, etc. There seems to be logical room for a truly outstanding philosopher to stand on, but no one outstanding enough to stand there. No one operating at another level. No one with the complete all-round game–with no weakness in the backhand or second serve. Someone you can watch and say: “There is no one else at this level”. I don’t mean there is no bestphilosopher; I mean someone whose game exists on a higher plane altogether, outclassing all others. An undisputed champion, a uniquely exceptional performer. No one of whom we say that we will never see his like again. If Plato and Aristotle were alive today and had the finest of philosophical educations, I still don’t think we would accord them this accolade: they would not qualify as philosophers of a level unheard of in anyone else. Sure, they were good for their time, even great, but they were not of a different philosophical caliber from other men, made of superior stuff. They were not intellectual gods (Plato rambles a bit, Aristotle doesn’t ramble enough). And yet there could be such gods—they are metaphysically possible. Just improve your prose style, make yourself clearer, be more self-critical, get down to work, don’t fall for the latest craze in psychology. It’s not that hard to raise your game, but people seem incapable of doing it. Many philosophers could have been a contender for the coveted title, but for some reason or other couldn’t get it together (like Alcaraz refusing to turn up for practice). It’s not as if you have to learn to do philosophy with your left hand, after all; you just have to put in the work necessary to get your level up a notch or two.[1]
[1] (I’m trying, in tennis and philosophy.) It is almost as if the great philosophers don’t deign to put in the necessary work, thinking that they have it made already. They are like tennis players who refuse to practice their serve, thinking it adequate as it is. In particular, they are content to work in a limited area in which they have made their mark, declining to expand their game. Or else they just find it all too tiring and would prefer to sleep late. No one seems genetically at a higher level than others, or to work harder than others.
Difficult question. We have to characterise what philosophy is trying to achieve (tricky), and whether some philosophers are better at achieving it than others.
Yes, very, but interesting to think about. Let’s say philosophers (not philosophy) are trying to achieve philosophical fame.
I pondered that. But then it’s easy to compile a list based on sales, or manuscript copies, or some other means to reflect famousness. Like ‘500 best albums of all time’ .
Then you clearly have philosophers ‘on the same level’. Descartes, Locke, Berkeley Hume etc.
But that may not be what we want. Aquinas, Scotus, Ockham. The first has schools named after him, the other two are for specialist readers only. (I suppose there is ‘Ockham’s Razor’ but as you probably know the formulation we all know predates Ockham)
I think level has to with intellectual creativity and argumentative skill.
Could it be that Shakespeare dealt with the imaginary or a different province of that realm while philosophers aim to simplify?
I don’t think philosophers aim to simplify; they aim to understand.
“The Schools having made disputation the touchstone of men’s abilities, and the criterion of knowledge, adjudged victory to him that kept the field: and he that had the last word was concluded to have the better of the argument, if not of the cause.” (Locke, Essay IV.vii.11)
Victory in argument is one measure of ability, and victory, just as in tennis, is a useful measure of ‘level’
Yes, you can’t argue with a winning argument or a winning score in tennis.
We don’t have objective or inter-subjective measures for philosophical excellence. In competitive sports there are wins that can be counted. In philosophy and arts it is mostly a matter of common and expert opinions and external recognition symbols. It is not very different in sciences and math even though there are clearly recognized geniuses such as Newton, Darwin, Einstein, von Neumann, Galois, Gauss. Leibniz and Descartes are probably close to that distinctive level of philosophy and their scientific contributions play a part in their high status in philosophy.
If Descartes and Leibniz had never made any scientific contributions, I doubt they would be held in such high esteem as philosophers. It’s also interesting that no scientist was ever a great philosopher on the side, especially in the last couple of centuries. I have never come across a scientist who I would say was even philosophically competent.
On the tennis, this morning I read a review in the NYRB of a couple of books on tennis that I thought you might find interesting. The title of the review is, “The Tennissance”, by Pablo Scheffer, in the Apr. 9, 2026 issue. Have you read it? I thought you might like it because it starts off with an account of Nabokov’s interest in tennis and a quote from Lolita.
I haven’t read it because I no longer read that journal, let alone write for it. This is their decision not mine. They went all DEI and I could find little in it I was interested in. Gone are the days of Robert Silvers.
Is it possible that a philosopher operating on a “higher” level than others could be analogous to an object from a fourth dimension from our three? To even observe it would require you had the equipment to observe the fourth dimension to begin with. If it did appear down to our three dimensions, it wouod appear from no where detectable and once gone, would be undetectable again.
Almost like the idea that to fully understand conciousness we would need to sole be outside of our own hardware to get a conplete picture…
…but then we would just be at another level we cannot see, fully!
That would be one way to ascend to a higher level, but it doesn’t seem necessary, given that 3D philosophers have other options. Still, I like the concept.