For years, I have been reading about and hearing about “postmodernism” without having a very clear idea of what the term means. Recently, I came upon a description of postmodernism that I think is very good. I also think it underlines the importance of the courses in philosophy that I teach at St. John’s University. The description is in a wonderful book entitled “Twelve Theories of Human Nature,” by Leslie Stevenson, David L. Haverman, and Peter Matthews Wright (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013).
Pointing out that there are many different philosophies of human nature — and because of the number of theories, people might wonder how to decide which theory, if any, should be embraced — some form of fundamentalism might seem attractive. The editors write the following:
“In reaction to this, skepticism and cynicism are very tempting. Nowadays, they tend to take the form of cultural relativism or postmodernism, according to which no particular cultural tradition (or ideology or theory of human nature) can have any more rational justification than any other. One of the most influential prophets of this trend was the 19th-century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, who has been described as a ‘master of suspicion’ because he was always ready (like Marx before him and Freud after him) to diagnose an unacknowledged ideological commitment or psychological need behind claims to supposedly ‘objective’ truth or morality. If we jump to the relativist conclusion that there can be no such thing as a true account of human nature, or rational discussion of rival theories about it, the project of this book may be doomed from the start” (p. 9).
I stress to students at St. John’s that I believe that an objective true account of human nature can be reached, and I will try to present it to them and hope that they will be sufficiently open to my lectures and to the books I have them read that they might accept some objective truths about human nature.
I have been teaching philosophy since 1967, and though I have always believed philosophy is essential, I have become more convinced of its importance in recent years. I find philosophy challenging and exciting, and never boring. I try very hard to help the students have the same attitude toward philosophy.
About 30 years ago, I persuaded the “Chapel Players,” the theatre group at St. John’s, to put on Jean Paul Sartre’s play “No Exit.” Students in my classes attended the play, and after the performance, we went to one of the classrooms and discussed it while sharing pizza. The evening was one of the most wonderful academic experiences I have had in all my years of teaching philosophy.
I hope to try again in the spring semester to encourage the theatre group to put on Sartre’s play, and I hope that the experience of reading the play and then seeing it performed will be as exciting as it was the last time I persuaded St. John’s Chapel Players to stage Sartre’s drama. If the students do a good job staging Sartre’s play, I will try to get them put on Graham Greene’s play “The Potting Shed,” which, except for plays by Shakespeare, is my favorite play.
I don’t know whether Greene’s play has ever been revived in New York. Over the years, I have persuaded some small theatre groups in parishes or schools to stage it. In my own life, film and theatre have had a profound influence on how I view the world and the mystery of the human person. I hope that my students can benefit from experiencing art, particularly theatre and film.
I stress in all my classes that students must make their study of philosophy a personal endeavor. I can do everything I possibly can to encourage and challenge them, but I cannot force them to reflect philosophically. What I try to do is invite them to take philosophy seriously. In one of the courses I teach, I inform the students that the course will attempt to answer two questions: “Who am I?” and perhaps the more important question, “Who are we?” I believe that the course will offer some very important answers to those two questions. But the students have to embrace those answers and make them their own. I cannot force that to happen.
I have come to believe that teaching a course in philosophy is analogous to preaching a homily. In both the classroom and at a Sunday Eucharist, I am inviting my listeners to accept a vision of reality. In each situation, I believe that the vision I am presenting is both beautiful and true. Indeed, the vision at a Eucharist is the most beautiful of all visions. I am convinced that anyone who embraces it is opening themselves to the presence of God.
Father Lauder is a philosophy professor at St. John’s University, Jamaica. His new book, “The Cosmic Love Story: God and Us,” is available on Amazon.com and at Barnes & Noble.