In an age of misinformation and confusion, philosophy could help to create a better world

We are now witnessing the most dangerous assent of public division since the Second World War. We need to do all we can to enlighten one another, argue Joshua Forstenzer and Magid Magid

We live in a world of misinformation (Getty Images/iStockphoto)

Experts aren’t exactly in vogue these days. From Brexit to the climate emergency and Covid-19, much of the media, swathes of the public, and quite a few politicians have had “enough” of listening to experts (in Michael Gove’s infamous phrase).  

The technocratic confidence which characterised pre-2008 politics and begrudging acceptance of expert-approved cruel austerity measures in the subsequent years has been replaced by a loss of faith in even the most basic standards of truth in public discourse. Things that were said, stuck to the side of buses, shouted at rallies are denied or disavowed as quickly and seamlessly as one changes one’s shirt.

Lies are repeated over and over again and carried at the speed of clicks (and algorithmic bots) across the internet, until no one can tell whether the speaker even believes what is being said or just thinks it is good to be seen to have said it. All that seems to matter is that enough people are swayed in the moment, just long enough to force whichever trite and bigoted nonsense is in fashion these days within sub-parts of – let’s face it – mostly right-wing political parties (typically, beholden to a small faction of aggressive nativists) across the democratic world.

So, how can philosophy, the oldest academic discipline in the book, help us create a better world in the face of all this?  

Western philosophy, as a historical discipline, emerged in a political world undergoing similar tumult to our own. Socrates famously wandered the streets of Athens in the 5th century BC after the heyday of Athenian democracy, taking on sophists whose expertise consisted of swaying others through speech. In short, sophists were the Cambridge Analytica of the ancient world and it was their capacity to abuse and disabuse the public’s intelligence that famously drove Plato to distrust democracy.

We, in contrast with the great master, think the answer to our contemporary democratic convulsions is more and better democracy. Politics is not a spectator sport. Democratic participation does not stop at the ballot box or even in the activities of political parties.

Politics is an everyday kind of thing: it takes place in conversations around the dinner table, in cafes, at the pub, in the street, and on the sofa. In fact, one might think that the multiplication of dystopian dramas on our TV screens is no accident: they reflect the growing, yet still partial, awareness that we appear locked into a consumerist death spiral. Addicted to economic growth, passive entertainment, and environmental devastation, our societies can hardly come to grips with the scale of the challenge ahead of us if we are to avoid suffering the worst effects of the climate catastrophe.

We – a philosopher and a politician – decided to work together because we both believe that another world is not only possible, but probable if we put our hearts, minds, and bodies to work in that direction. We also share the sense that the spirit demonstrated by young people of all ethnicities and backgrounds in this country, so aware of the risks of the future and the injustices of the past, and yet so committed to confront them unflinchingly, has much to teach the rest of us. 

Like the philosophers of ancient times, many young people won’t stand for nonsense and they will call out the lies they hear in plain language. They want real plans for change, authentic leadership, and accountable politicians. And above all, they want opportunities to participate meaningfully in the exercise of power.  

Advocating for votes at 16, as well as for participatory budgeting and citizens assemblies, along with calling out false claims and nonsensical arguments from powerful actors are some of the political projects we were able to work on together over the past couple of years. In addition, distinctly philosophical reflections relating to civil rights, race relations, environmental degradation, and economic inequality helped us to develop political responses to events in the UK, the United States, Brazil and Chile as they unfolded.

While in the European Parliament, we also spent time articulating a conception of the European ideal that both recognises the best aspirations of its various peoples and understands them in their fullest diversity, with all of the historical and moral debts that they owe to the rest of the world – minimally, as result of colonial exploitation, slavery, and a complex intercultural intellectual heritage.

In particular, we argued that the rhetoric of European exceptionalism (alive and kicking, unfortunately, across most European nations, including the UK despite Brexit) is but a mask for Islamophobia of the most ignorant kind, which fails to acknowledge diversity within Islamic thought and pays next to no attention to the rich intellectual exchanges between European and Muslim scholars in the Middle Ages, which paved the way for the philosophical and scientific Renaissance so central to European identity.

Confusion is an ideal breeding ground for fear. And fear is the essential precondition for the politics of division and hate to thrive. We are now witnessing the most dangerous assent of public division and hate in the democratic world since the end of World War Two. We need to do all we can to enlighten and engage one another, rather than obfuscate and blame those whom we can't help but see as different from us.

Philosophy is made to help with that task, because it asks the simplest yet most challenging questions to us all: what, other than the lottery of birth, gave us the comfort and chances we so easily take for granted, while denying it to those seeking help or refuge from want, persecution, or war? If we could have easily been those seeking help or those getting on small boats to save our children and our own lives, do we not owe those that actually are in that situation basic respect, dignity, and a helping hand?

Since our societies currently seem unable to imagine helping those who are now outsiders looking in, we need to reimagine our societies altogether. This is all the more clear in the face of the pandemic. If we do not share wealth and knowledge to meet this challenge, the social fabric which holds us together may fray beyond the point of repair. The good news is that thinking about a better way of living together is what philosophy is all about, and so is politics.

Perhaps above all, however, it is in the task of making deep values explicit, clear, and well connected to the bigger picture that philosophy is most useful for political practice. Its unwavering focus on the big questions, such as answering why we believe something, or why we want to enact a certain policy, helps establish clear reasons and priorities. It helps make political visions clear in their goals and transparent in their assumptions.

Should all politicians look for advice from philosophers? Yes, we think it would help if they did, particularly in this age of mass confusion. But Plato did warn that philosophy is not for the faint of heart and that it may not be of much help to those with a lust for injustice.

Joshua Forstenzer was Magid Magid’s ‘Philosopher-in-Residence’ at the European Parliament from July 2019 to October 2019 and is a Lecturer in Philosophy at the University of Sheffield as well as co-director of the Centre for Engaged Philosophy

Magid Magid came to Sheffield from Somalia as a refugee, aged five. He is the youngest and first refugee and first Green Party Lord Mayor of Sheffield, and became an MEP for the Green Party in May 2019. He is the author of The Art of Disruption: A Manifesto For Real Change