Perhaps the paradox lies not only between parental love and a child’s autonomy, but between society’s collective dependence on uncertain vocations and its refusal to distribute their risk. We honour thinkers retrospectively, once history has absorbed the cost of their obscurity, while asking individual families to finance that uncertainty prospectively. A parent who recommends medicine may not oppose philosophy at all; they may simply understand that society wants another Confucius while offering no livelihood to the unknown person attempting to become one. The question, then, is not merely who will choose the life of thought, but who is economically permitted to risk choosing it. Unless that material risk is shared, “authenticity” itself becomes a privilege.
This is a great point. In some countries there is state support for underprivileged students -- for example, in Germany one can receive a loan that is to be paid back when the student has a job and is earning an income. But the problem seems to go deeper than that, because our societies refuse to acknowledge the value of the humanities more generally. With universities closing down their philosophy and literature departments and very few jobs available for these graduates, it seems reckless to aim for a life as a philosopher even if the university itself were free. Should governments then offer more financial support not only to students but also to unemployed philosophers? Or should we go directly to a basic income that would allow all citizens to pursue careers that might not be financially rewarding but possibly valuable for society?
I think this exposes a contradiction deeper than access to education. We tell young people that knowledge has intrinsic value, then ask the labour market to decide retrospectively which kinds of knowledge deserved to exist. Making philosophy free to study solves little if becoming a philosopher remains economically irrational. I’m wary of supporting particular professions simply because we judge them culturally valuable… someone would still have to decide which forms of value qualify. A basic income is philosophically cleaner in that respect: it does not require the state to decide that the philosopher deserves freedom more than the poet, carer, musician, independent researcher, or anyone else whose contribution is poorly translated into market price.
Maybe the deeper question is whether we are willing to admit that price and social value are measuring different things.
In real time, with no hindsight available, there was no way to distinguish the future sage from simply a man failing repeatedly at every practical measure of success. The uncertainty parents fear isn't imagined. It's the accurate description of what living a genuinely original life actually looks like while it's still being lived, before anyone gets to know how it turns out.
And the vast majority of people whose lives look like beach bums, aren't sages for the ages. They're just beach bums.
That said, I teach philosophy, and if any of my children actually said this to me, I would likely answer, "Great, now learn a trade to support yourself as well. Even Saint Paul was a tentmaker."
Perhaps the paradox lies not only between parental love and a child’s autonomy, but between society’s collective dependence on uncertain vocations and its refusal to distribute their risk. We honour thinkers retrospectively, once history has absorbed the cost of their obscurity, while asking individual families to finance that uncertainty prospectively. A parent who recommends medicine may not oppose philosophy at all; they may simply understand that society wants another Confucius while offering no livelihood to the unknown person attempting to become one. The question, then, is not merely who will choose the life of thought, but who is economically permitted to risk choosing it. Unless that material risk is shared, “authenticity” itself becomes a privilege.
This is a great point. In some countries there is state support for underprivileged students -- for example, in Germany one can receive a loan that is to be paid back when the student has a job and is earning an income. But the problem seems to go deeper than that, because our societies refuse to acknowledge the value of the humanities more generally. With universities closing down their philosophy and literature departments and very few jobs available for these graduates, it seems reckless to aim for a life as a philosopher even if the university itself were free. Should governments then offer more financial support not only to students but also to unemployed philosophers? Or should we go directly to a basic income that would allow all citizens to pursue careers that might not be financially rewarding but possibly valuable for society?
I think this exposes a contradiction deeper than access to education. We tell young people that knowledge has intrinsic value, then ask the labour market to decide retrospectively which kinds of knowledge deserved to exist. Making philosophy free to study solves little if becoming a philosopher remains economically irrational. I’m wary of supporting particular professions simply because we judge them culturally valuable… someone would still have to decide which forms of value qualify. A basic income is philosophically cleaner in that respect: it does not require the state to decide that the philosopher deserves freedom more than the poet, carer, musician, independent researcher, or anyone else whose contribution is poorly translated into market price.
Maybe the deeper question is whether we are willing to admit that price and social value are measuring different things.
In real time, with no hindsight available, there was no way to distinguish the future sage from simply a man failing repeatedly at every practical measure of success. The uncertainty parents fear isn't imagined. It's the accurate description of what living a genuinely original life actually looks like while it's still being lived, before anyone gets to know how it turns out.
And the vast majority of people whose lives look like beach bums, aren't sages for the ages. They're just beach bums.
That said, I teach philosophy, and if any of my children actually said this to me, I would likely answer, "Great, now learn a trade to support yourself as well. Even Saint Paul was a tentmaker."