I Ain’t Afraid Of No Questions: Why Being A Philosopher Is Like Being A Ghostbuster

Maybe I’m a bit of a broken record about Mary Midgley’s “philosophy as plumbing” metaphor, but it’s always helped me get my mind around what I’m supposed to do (maybe what I’m supposed to feel) as a philosopher. Like plumbing, philosophy is something that most people don’t think about on a regular basis. It’s “just there”, behind the proverbial walls, nestled under the floorboards. When things are ticking along and functioning as they should, we’re happy to have it out of sight, out of mind, but when things get backed up, when there’s an overflow and a weird smell, we panic. We call in an “expert” to fix the leaks, replace defective parts, and then we go back to just not seeing it anymore. We should all be on the lookout for problems, we should all cultivate some level of skill and knowledge about handling them (and preventing them), but we don’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m shut in and bored, maybe it’s because there’s a new Ghostbusters flick on the horizon, or maybe there’s much wisdom to be found in quirky sci-fi classics, but this quote popped into my head the other day:

“I tried to think of the most harmless thing. Something I loved from my childhood. Something that could never ever possibly destroy us. Mr. Stay Puft!”

It sparked something in my philosopher’s brain. It rang true, and summed up so much of the sentiment that’s out there at the moment. While I’ve been attached to the idea of being like a plumber for a long time, all of the sudden, I feel more like a ghostbuster. Here’s why:

With reference to the quote given above- I (like most philosophers, I’m sure), hear about a lot of ideas that seem harmless and innocent that, left unchecked and unexamined, turn into monsters. These ideas, like Mr. Stay Puft, blow up, and become destructive. Being a philosopher means treating ideas with caution, thinking carefully about them, because they’re very rarely “just ideas”. You let one slide under the radar, and the next thing you know, it’s crushing entire city blocks. How many gargantuan, bloated, deceptively jolly ideas are we fighting with lasers at the moment, trying frantically not to cross the streams or be sucked into an alternate dimension?

Philosophers, like Ghostbusters, deal with all kinds of remnants from bygone eras, sometimes in the form of thinkers, and sometimes as long-standing worldviews and assumptions. Not all “ghosts” are unfriendly. Some are downright interesting and perhaps even useful, but they still have a tendency to creep back in when least expected, often in giant spectral blobs. All of them need to be caught, contained, and studied before we let them roam freely.

Philosophers and Ghostbusters both tend to mull over concepts like:

  • identity and free will (“There is no Dana, only Zull!”)
  • life, death, and the nature of reality (“And dig this, there was a prophecy. Just before his head died, his last words were “Death is but a door. Time is but a window. I’ll be back.”)
  • responsibility (“Janine: You are so kind to take care of that man. You know, you’re a real humanitarian. Egon: I don’t think he’s human.”)
  • truth (“When someone asks you if you’re a god, you say yes!”)
  • gender roles (“Safety lights are for dudes.”)
  • the scientific method (Back off man, I’m a scientist!)
  • the nature of belief. (“If there’s a steady pay-check in it, I’ll believe in anything you say.”)

These are at the core of both of our job descriptions.

Philosophy, like ghostbusting, works better when it’s inclusive, and spans a variety of disciplines, skillsets and perspectives. Someone needs to know physics, someone else needs to have a background in history and theology, another needs to be great with tech. There’s value in having a class clown, a loyal friend, or a bit of a daredevil in the mix. And yes, I would assert that the franchise was made richer with an all-female team in the third movie (haters, go home).  There’s still lots of room for improvement in cultural and other forms of diversity, and I’m holding out hope for that too, both in the movies and in philosophical circles.  In short, the more perspectives, the better.

Philosophy, like ghostbusting, is intended to serve some useful purpose, and should be seen as a public service, if you will. Does everyone treat philosophers (or Ghostbusters) as useful or relevant all of the time? No. No one wants to hear that they’re being “haunted”, that the weird creaking noise in the attic needs taking care of.  What’s more, no one wants to be told that sometimes the only way through a problem is effective critical thinking and asking very difficult questions. Philosopher and Ghostbusters both get a lot of doors shut in our faces, a lot of eye rolls and disparaging looks, but we’re actually helpful. Really, really helpful. We might even save the day, from time to time.

Being a philosopher, like being a Ghostbuster, is unexpectedly cool. Even when everyone thinks you’re a modern day Chicken Little, when you’re dealing with demons, when you’re covered in slime (all metaphorical, of course), you can’t quite imagine yourself doing anything else. To be a philosopher is to see stuff. Weird stuff. Undeniable stuff. Amazing, interesting, life-jangling, mind-changing stuff. I highly recommend it.

Perhaps the best part of this philosophy-ghostbuster connection lies in admitting that, deep down, we all kind of want to be one. While those with aspirations to take on the paranormal might be disappointed to find themselves without a proton pack or a pumped-up hearse, pretty much anyone can give philosophy a whirl, with no jumpsuit or PKE meter required.

So tell me, who ya gonna call?

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