PHILOSOPHIZING REGALLY

Erik Boers, Het Nieuwe Trivium,
November 2009

A couple of weeks ago a report by the Royal Dutch Academy of Sciences on the teaching of arithmetic in primary schools was presented at a conference. I was asked to facilitate in such a way that the age-old polarisation between the ‘realists’ and the ‘traditionalists’ didn’t get a chance to dominate the discussion once again. For years now a fierce battle has been waged in the media between the proponents of insight (realists), and the proponents of classical practice in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division (traditionalists). Fortunately, an open discussion took place among the 80 or so people present, in part because the Academy’s report issued a veritable judgment of Solomon. The chairman made clear that there is only an apparent difference between the two sides, and that research has shown that there is no significant difference in didactic impact. For years the wrong discussion was conducted. Together with all those present and a few representatives from the field I set out to discover the essence of the whole issue. We ended with the cardinal virtues: what courage, measure, wisdom and justice need to be displayed here? A high degree of involvement and consensus was the result:
1) the teacher and his/her pleasure in teaching arithmetic is central;
2) the teacher must receive, and take more time for, ongoing development ;
3) what is required is a combination of insight and a great deal of practice – for both teacher and student.

The day following this venture into the world of the Royal Academy I was admitted to a gathering in the Royal Palace on Dam Square in Amsterdam. The extremely popular German philosopher Peter Sloterdijk (Dutch father) was to give a lecture, and Queen Beatrix was hostess. Deeply impressed by the guards, the lackeys, the spacious rooms and the magnificent frescos, I joined the tea-drinking guests around 4 o’clock in the afternoon. There were many philosophers, writers, scientists, politicians and a number of senior administrators. Standing beside me, Jeroen van der Veer (formerly CEO of Shell) was consulting his Blackberry.

The Queen welcomed her guests in the old council chamber. We had been asked, while shaking her hand, to give our names and tell her what we did. As ordered, so done, everyone standing – slightly bashfully – in line. I said that I philosophized with people and organisations, to which the Queen responded with a laugh: “That’s terrific!” We have her blessing! Strangely enough, this encounter had more impact on me than I had expected. I felt myself to be truly Dutch. That feeling only increased during the rest of the event. Differences in status and hierarchy seemed to be quite absent: during the aperitif preceding the dinner anyone could easily join in a discussion involving the Queen or Job Cohen, the mayor of Amsterdam, or anyone else. For our work, watching over and protecting an investigative openness in dialogue, that is a necessary condition. The Queen provided an excellent example.

The lecture by van Sloterdijk also confronted me once again with our down-to-earth national culture. He is a magician with words, grabbing your undivided attention when he shuttles between past and present around current issues. But if you try to put into your own words what the essence of his message is, it keeps escaping you. Jeroen van der Veer got noticeably agitated during the evening by the intangible nature of philosophers.

Remarkable was that the theme of the discussion the previous evening, ‘insight and practice’, also appeared here as a central issue. In his newest book, “Du muss dein Leben ändern” [You must change your life] Sloterdijk emphasizes philosophy as an athletic discipline, that is, a discipline in which, confronted by an insight (the absolute imperative) you must undertake a great deal of practice in order to develop the habits required for good coexistence. This comes close to our practice when philosophizing in organisations, in which we constantly practice the ‘liberal arts’ using the methods described in our book. Sloterdijk knows how to describe this beautifully, writing and speaking with an impressive library in his head. But he failed to become concrete. He did not say which exercises he carried out on a daily basis. A practical investigation did not get off the ground. He did not ask a single question, and provided no answers to questions which were put to him. That is exactly what, while conducting open, practice-oriented dialogues is, in our experience, an absolutely essential habit, required for good coexistence and working together well. We have no need of philosopher-kings, as Plato once said. Let us, as philosophers, draw our example from the behaviour of the Queen!