Helsinki 28 August 2019
The International Institute of Philosophy was created in 1937, at a time when there were not so many philosophy journals, when English was not yet the vehicular language, when travelling to conferences was rare, and when there were not many of these. Papers were not circulated or if so under carbon copies, and the main model for collective research was the university seminar, usually ran by a single Professor or chair. Indeed there was no internet, no electronic journals, no-e- mail, no face-book friends or foes, and one crossed the Atlantic mostly by boat, not by plane, not to mention the time it took for China. The IIP was meant to be an instrument of “intellectual cooperation”, bringing philosophers of all countries together, in the hope of overcoming the obstacles created by differing traditions, institutional differences and diversity of languages. Things have changed. English is the vehicular language, all journals have electronic versions, and everyone, at least in the academic world, has access to internet and to e-mail. If one of our colleagues writes an article, the whole learned world has the possibility to read it. Bibliographies, journals, books, encyclopedias, are all on line. The differences between traditions are narrowing. A lot more analytic philosophy is done in China, in Korea, India and Japan, than even 20 years ago, and a lot more of Confucean or Buddhist philosophy is published in the US and elsewhere. Hermeneutics is no longer a German and French specialty. Many laugh at the idea that there could be a divide between analytic and continental philosophy: as John Searle once said, the difference is like the one between driving a Toyota or a Volvo: who cares (especially since Volvo cars are made in Japan)?. Philosophy has become international. So why is there any need to have an International Institute of Philosophy?
I think we still need it, because in spite of all the progress made since 1937, philosophy is still very provincial. By “provincial” I mean that local and national differences between academic institutions, intellectual traditions, styles of work and intellectual habits, readership of works categorized as “philosophy”, varieties of publics, and even access to common resources count more than the so-called global village to which we all belong. These differences persist even though standards of academic work tend to be unified, and information and international circulation of ideas is widespread. Only very large and wealthy departments of philosophy of prominent universities can afford to recruit graduates or tenure track young colleagues coming from abroad. In others, except in Germany, where there is a law which forbids recruitment of people who did their PhD in the department, and where hausberufung is not allowed, most people are recruited from the inside. Circulation of academics is encouraged, and there are many more people today than 50 years ago who do their career in other countries than the one where they were born or educated, it’s still the case that nationals go to their national universities. Simply look at the Faculty lists in Europe, US, Asia, and you will see that apart from some dedicated and eminent places which are very international, most countries recruit people from their own natives. A famous “Philosophical Gourmet report” purports to rank the department of philosophy in the USA, and gives some ranking in the English speaking world, but totally ignores non English speaking countries. Recent statistics show that even within analytic philosophy, which is supposed to be the most internationalized and open to all style of philosophy, journal articles quote massively a very small number of authors, all from the US. . Indeed the prevalence of English has created a system where if one does not write in English, one is simply ignored. Philosophical production in other languages tend to be isolated, and translations into English are rare. Even articles published in English in journals which are based in specific countries have little chance to make it to a wider public. The differences are not only nation-wide, they can also be large within nations and within traditions. Imagine for one moment that after a big earthquake Oxford and Cambridge in England switched their respective places, all philosophers from one place being transferred to the other. Would Oxford philosophers do Cambridge philosophy? No. In Sweden Stockholm and Lund do not practice the same kind of philosophy, and bet that the same is true about Shangaï and Beijing. The language barrier plays a great role: for instance there is a world of differences between the style of philosophy which is done in Brazil and in Spanish speaking countries in South America. The kind of philosophy which is done is one place is still shaped by local traditions, particular individuals who teach there and are able to attract students. These differences create chauvinism and chilliness among teachers and students, not only because moving to other places is hard and because the level of salaries and scholarships does not allow much. Even in such a globalized world as ours, the geography of philosophy counts as much as its history.
To this it might be replied that the more a place is open to foreign students, who finally turn into colleagues, the more there is international activity and the more exchanges there are within a continent and between continents, the less these effects of provincialism are perceptible. And indeed this is true of much philosophy today in most places. But the differences remain strong. Is it a bad thing? Not at all. Philosophy is not, at least not in all its quarters, a science. It is rooted in culture and in traditions. The fact that large sectors of philosophical research today are dominated by English, by certain schools of thought and styles of work is a very good thing. But it also creates strange situations. In a number of European departments of philosophy in big universities today, a number of programs and departments host a certain number of students from other countries. They work in seminars, conferences, and lectures with the locals, but do not mix up with those who do not teach in English , and sometimes it happens that some Ph D students spend several years in a place without having ever spoken a single sentence in local language. In some cases, this creates a situation which can be compared, at the level of academic departments, to the one which existed in the colonial times, when the British did not address the locals in India, or the French in Africa. We cannot change this by magic, and English is both a tool of domination and a tool of liberation in philosophy.
In such a context, is there still a need, as in 1937,of an International institute of philosophy?