Should Philosophers Sign Petitions or Open Letters?

Prof. Agnes Callard, of the University of Chicago philosophy department, believes that philosophy professors should not sign petitions, as she explains in a new oped in the New York Times. In brief, her position is that arguments should stand or fall based on their logic and persuasiveness, rather than the number or identities of the people who hold a particular view. As Callard puts it,

Whether you call it a “petition,” an “open letter” or a “public statement,” this type of document is distinguished by the fact that after stating and arguing for a position, it lists the names of people who endorse the position. The petition aims to effect persuasion with respect to what appears in the first part not only by way of any argument contained therein but also by way of the number and respectability of the people who figure in the second part. Such a document tries to persuade you to believe (that it is right to do) something because many people, some of whom are authorities, believe it (is the right thing to do). It is not always wrong to believe things because many people believe them, but it is always intellectually uninquisitive to do so.

Thus,

As a philosopher, I want my influence to be philosophical, which is to say, I want to bring people to believe only what they, by their own lights, can see to be justified; I don’t want them to believe something because (I am one of the) many people who think it.

Callard's arguments strikes me as quite wrong, at least regarding most scholarly fields. Missing from her analysis is the importance of consensus, which can be quite valuable in reaching good decisions.

Consider, for example, climate change, a looming global disaster that still has a handful of deniers. An open letter from numerous prominent climate scientists, calling for government action, would definitely be more helpful than even the most closely argued and researched statement from individuals. In fact, one of the most important facts about climate change is that upwards of 90% of climate scientists believe it is being caused by human activity.

Oddly, Callard offers medicine as an analogy:

Just as doctors must commit to not doing any bodily harm, philosophers must commit to not doing a certain kind of epistemic harm. It is unacceptable for a doctor to use — or even advise someone to use — a medically unsound procedure. Persuasion by majority or authority is an unsound way to inquire; the employment of such a procedure constitutes a kind of philosophical malpractice.

She is speaking here of professionalism and comparing the obligations of physicians and philosophers, but it cannot escape notice that medicine depends heavily on consensus. No one would ever say that doctors should refrain from expressing collective opinions about the effectiveness or safety of therapies.

Callard does claim that philosophy is different from other fields:

One thing that is distinctive about philosophy is that unlike other disciplines, it is philosophical all the way down. “What are mathematical objects?” and other such foundational questions fall under the purview not of the discipline in question but of philosophy. Science doesn’t ask, “What is science?”; philosophy asks this, as well as asking, “What is philosophy?”

For this reason, she says, philosophers must be especially vigilant to avoid politicization – such as the circulation of petitions – even within their own circles: “If we are going to have professional, intramural discussions about the ethics of the profession, we should do so philosophically and not by petitioning one another.”

Callard does not explicitly extend her argument beyond philosophy, but it is hard to see how her claims would not apply to other disciplines, given her assertion that "petitions, regardless of their content, compromise core values of intellectual inquiry."

If you strip the list of signatures off your petition, you’ll find that you have an argument on your hands. The argument was there all along, but only when shorn of the appeal to authority does it invite counterargument — as opposed to counterpetitioning. 

Of course, law is a field that relies heavily, perhaps uniquely, on authority, so my own views may be unduly influenced by experience. Even so, I think that expressions of consensus can be helpful to citizens and decision makers – whether judicial, political, or academic – so long as they are based on actual knowledge or expertise. Admittedly, some law professors are, shall we say, rather loose in signing amicus briefs or open letters, on the assumption (I guess) that an academic appointment confers broad-ranging qualifications.

My own practice is to sign open letters or amicus briefs only relating to issues that fall within my academic fields – primarily legal and judicial ethics, advocacy and representation, and related issues of procedure or constitutional law. But within that limitation, I have no problem adding my voice to others with the same positions on legal, social, political, or professional issues.