THE SOCIETY FOR PHILOSOPHY IN PRACTICE

Trevor Curnow
Thinking about Dialogue

Abstract

In this paper I address two fundamental questions. First, what is the nature of dialogue? Secondly, what is the value of dialogue? As with most philosophical questions, there is a variety of answers.

To begin with, it is important to distinguish dialogue from simple discussion. Although the two terms may be largely interchangeable in everyday usage, here I am dealing with it in a philosophical context. In this context, a dialogue is both more than and less than a verbal exchange. It is more because there is some philosophical dimension to it. This means that it is more than a discussion between philosophers, or discussions to which one or more philosophers are parties. It is less, because there may be no exchange at all, as long as certain other conditions are fulfilled. It is possible to have a dialogue with oneself.

I distinguish between two types of dialogue; dialogues of content and dialogues of form. The first is the more easily understood. By a dialogue of content I mean one in which there is an attempt to solve a problem which has a philosophical dimension. The dialogues of Plato are the most obvious literary examples. What constitutes a philosophical dimension is not a straightforward matter. Some topics may appear self-evidently philosophical (e.g. 'What is truth?'), others self-evidently not (e.g. 'How do I get to the Bodleian?'). Many will fall somewhere between the two. Perhaps it could be said that some questions admit of a philosophical depth which others do not. This leads to a further point. Unless at least some of that depth is investigated, a discussion may fall short of being genuinely philosophical, whatever the topic. It scarcely needs pointing out that there is no assumption that a dialogue of content issues in a satisfactory answer to the question put. Typically, the technique of such a dialogue is one of questioning.

A dialogue of form is very different. Here the content is largely, if not wholly, irrelevant. The aim, rather, is to become aware of the nature of actual interpersonal communication, to observe how mutual understanding does, or does not, happen, and why. The most obvious example of this kind of dialogue is that developed by David Bohm. The technique of such a kind of dialogue rests much more heavily on listening. Does this have a philosophical dimension? Given that at least part of the exercise involves a bringing of underlying assumptions to the level of awareness, I believe it does.

The two types of dialogue I have distinguished are not mutually exclusive. I would suggest that modern Socratic Dialogue, deriving from the work of Leonard Nelson, partakes of both. However, the balance may vary between different dialogues (and different facilitators).

The first part of the paper is concerned with elucidating and exploring these points with reference to the works of Plato, Nelson and Bohm. In the second part I look at the activities of philosophical counselling and philosophical consultancy. The question which concerns me here is the extent to which the discussions which undoubtedly take place in such contexts also qualify as dialogues in the philosophical sense. Or, to put the question in a different way, what is the specifically philosophical element which is brought to such contexts. Or, again, what are we actually offering (and selling)? Not all that philosophers do is philosophical, and not all discussions are dialogues.

Full Paper

Introduction

This conference takes dialogue as its central theme, but how clear are we about what dialogue actually is and what its value it meant to be? There is a danger of becoming both too vague and too uncritical about dialogue, losing sight of important distinctions and important questions. The aim of this paper is to initiate a discussion about dialogue. I want to consider different ways of understanding dialogue, different kinds of dialogue, different uses to which dialogue may be put, and things which may look like dialogue, but in fact are not. I also want to consider the implications of the various points which emerge for the activities of philosophical counselling and consultancy.

I will begin with a brief consideration of the etymology of dialogue. As it is often contrasted with monologue, there is a common tendency to take it simply to mean a discussion between (at least) two people. However, the 'dia-' element comes not from the Greek meaning two but from the Greek meaning through. The '-logue' element clearly comes from logos, which has multiple meanings, including language and reason. In its fundamental sense, then, a dialogue is a process of talking or thinking through something. On grounds of pure etymology, there is no requirement that there should be more than one person involved. Furthermore (and just as importantly), if the involvement of more than one person is not a necessary condition for dialogue, it is not a sufficient one either. Just because two people are talking to each other, that does not of itself mean that there is a dialogue, in this strict sense, going on. Dialogue and discussion are not the same thing. Unfortunately, everyday usage tends to undermine this distinction, and lost useful distinctions are to be mourned.

Dialogue and dialectic

For those who have studied philosophy, the term 'dialogue' will tend first and foremost to conjure up associations with the work of Plato. However, while 'dialogue' is used to indicate the literary form of Plato's works, 'dialectic' is generally used to refer to its philosophical form or structure. The nature and significance of Plato's dialectic is summarised by Aristotle thus: 'Since it cross-examines, it provides a way towards the principles of all lines of inquiry.' In terms of literary form, some of Plato's later works are barely concealed monologues, in whole or in part. Nevertheless, they may still manage to be authentic dialogues to the extent to which there is a genuine thinking through of the problem in hand. The later dialogues may tend to be dramatically rather boring, but that does not of itself undermine their philosophical legitimacy. The emphasis put by Aristotle on cross-examination brings out a fundamental aspect of dialogue, and, indeed, of philosophy. It is, or at the very least it typically involves, a process of questioning. Whether the questions are answered, either satisfactorily or even at all, is another matter. In philosophy, an answer is often only a prelude to another question.

Since the term 'dialectic' has been introduced, it may be appropriate to make a few comments about the use of this notion by Hegel and Marx. Whereas in Plato dialogue and dialectic tend to converge, with Hegel and Marx the case is quite different. Dialectic, as understood (although in different ways) by them, is still a process, but it is a long-term historical one. It is a process whereby tensions, or contradictions, resolve themselves over time. This process is typically characterised in terms of thesis, antithesis and synthesis. It is not so much a human activity as a framework which guides and structures all human activity (including, presumably, dialogue). As with Plato's dialectic, there is an assumption that the direction in which dialectic moves human activity is a positive one. However, where Plato's dialectic is concerned with understanding, the Hegelian and Marxist forms of it are concerned with being. Dialogue as such has little role to play in either the Hegelian or Marxist philosophies.

Dialogue and rhetoric

On the grounds that the enemy of my friend is my enemy, the Sophists have generally enjoyed a bad reputation in western philosophy. The idolisation of Socrates has led to those whom he disparaged being frequently seen in a bad light. Much (far too much) has been made of Socrates' objection to the fact that the Sophists charged for their services, as if this required all subsequent philosophers to voluntarily assume a life of poverty (or at least find a good reason for not doing so). However, to consider the issue of payment in isolation is to miss the point. Taking Plato's Apology at face value, it seems clear that Socrates took no money for his philosophising since he claimed he had nothing of value to sell. His complaint against the Sophists was not that they took money as such, but that they took it on false pretences; they were frauds, because they had nothing of (philosophical) value to sell either.

So what did the Sophists sell? A significant part of what they offered was rhetoric. This involved not only the art of public speaking (valued as a vehicle to political advancement in the more democratic communities), but also the ability to articulate arguments both for and against any given point of view. As such, to take up the terminology of the dialectic, they offered the ability to see both thesis and antithesis at the same time, and to argue for or against either. Seen in this light, the Sophists were clearly interested in dialogue, in the sense of talking a problem through.

The fondness of ancient writers, and some modern ones, for the literary form of the dialogue reflects in part another traditional criticism of the Sophists, that it was unclear where they stood on issues, if they stood anywhere at all. In the same way, debates still rage over what Hume really thought about natural religion, given his decision to write on the matter in the format of the dialogue. On the other hand, the dialogue might be seen as an aid to understanding in the way that it lays out a clear path through the subject matter for the reader to follow.

Whether or not the traditional criticisms of the Sophists are fair, it is certainly true that rhetoric as such is commonly presented as a morally neutral activity, and the aim of it is to persuade and to win, not to be right. However, it might be argued that the early dialogues of Plato, those generally regarded as most authentically Socratic, themselves contain substantial amounts of rhetoric similarly understood. Through power of argument, Socrates thoroughly demolishes an opponent. It is never meant to be an open question as to who wins the debate. On the other hand, it is left very unclear as to what the right answer to the question under discussion might be. It is in the later dialogues where a more dogmatic tone comes to dominate. It might be said that whereas in the early works, dialogue is a means of detecting error, in the later ones it is portrayed as a means of arriving at truth. Whether what is actually arrived at really is truth is, of course, another matter.

Dialogue according to David Bohm

I want now to consider a rather different type of dialogue, that developed by the late David Bohm. For those unfamiliar with his work, Bohm's background is a complex one. He was a professor of physics with a strong interest in Krishnamurti. Perhaps some general idea of his approach to dialogue can be gleaned from the title of one of his books on the subject, Thought as a System. For Bohm, the fact that thought is a system means that thought itself is problematic. Whereas in Platonic dialogue, thought is used as an instrument for tackling a problem, Bohm is of the view that too often thought uses us, and so should be seen as part of the problem. The aim of a Bohmian dialogue is therefore not even to try to solve a problem, but to become aware of how thought works, and this is done through the medium of non-purposive discussion. For Bohm, wanting an answer, feeling the need to develop or defend a position, and treating the ideas of others in a judgmental way, are all instruments of obscuration. 'As soon as we try to accomplish a useful purpose or goal, we will have an assumption behind it as to what is useful, and that assumption is going to limit us.'

The essence of Bohmian dialogue is the development of an awareness of the dynamics of thought and debate. It is rather like a verbal form of Tai Chi. In Tai Chi, movement is both purposeless and slowed down. The same is true of discussion in a Bohmian dialogue. By becoming purposeless, by, as Bohm would put it, suspending our impulses and assumptions, we become able to perceive the processes of thought and discussion at work. By suspending interest in content, we become aware of form and structure. As a result we learn, first, how much of our own thinking is automatic, habitual, conditioned. It is this dimension of thought which leads Bohm to term it a system. For Bohm, thought which is habitual becomes the tail which wags the dog. This is the personal dimension of Bohmian dialogue. However, there is also a collective dimension. We also learn how much of communication with others is distorted by opinion, how much people systematically fail to hear each other properly, how much discussion tends to be competitive rather than co-operative. Perhaps we might say that, according to Bohm, what passes for dialogue is too often a set of parallel monologues.

There is also a further benefit suggested. 'In dialogue the whole structure of defensiveness and division can collapse; and suddenly the feeling can change to one of fellowship and friendship, participation and sharing.' This is no mean promise, and doubtless there will be differences of opinion as to how likely it is to be fulfilled. It certainly seems very different from the more adversarial nature of Plato's dialogues, where opponents of Socrates may be not only defeated but even humiliated. Again taking the Apology at face value, Socrates regularly laid bare the shortcomings of those with whom he debated, thereby gaining their enmity (and eventually his own death sentence). Whatever benefits are meant to be gained from the process of Platonic dialogue, fellowship and friendship are not conspicuous amongst them. Bohm and Plato represent considerably different views on the subject of dialogue.

Modern Socratic Dialogue

I want now to turn to modern Socratic Dialogue. Founded on the work of Leonard Nelson, who died in 1927, it is already too late to speak of a single existing conception of it. It has developed in different ways in different hands and places. My remarks here are not intended to support one interpretation of it as against another.

What, then, is modern Socratic Dialogue? It begins with a question, general and often ethical in nature. It then proceeds to make the question concrete through personal examples proffered by the participants, one of which is selected for further discussion. The discussion itself encourages both reflection on individual experience and an exchange of ideas in order to arrive at a consensual conclusion. Consensus is more important here than a conclusion: the former is required, the latter is optional. Because consensus is required, progress is slow, and a key part of the experience of a Socratic Dialogue seems to me to be understanding why progress is slow, the ways in which, and the extent to which, there is (or can be) disagreement. Because consensus is required, differences of opinion cannot be ignored or voted into irrelevance. Dissidents, one or many, have to be won over by argument (although there is sometimes some tactical 'agreement' for the sake of moving on).

Although I know of no direct connection between Bohmian and Nelsonian dialogue, there seem to me to be some interesting resemblances between the two. Both reject the need to hurry. Both look for an awareness of the process of discussion. Both are in an important sense experiential. However, there are significant differences too. The question posed in a Nelsonian dialogue makes the exercise purposeful in a way in which a Bohmian dialogue is not. Furthermore, argument and persuasion play a role in a Nelsonian dialogue which they do not in a Bohmian one.

From what has been said about Plato, Bohm and Nelson, I think it is possible, and may be helpful, to put forward a distinction between two different kinds of process which are operative within the general world of dialogue. These may be given labels in terms of form and content. In 'dialogues of content' there is a question to which an answer is sought, whether or not it is found. The point of the dialogue is the solution of the problem posed by the content. In 'dialogues of form', the question is unimportant, merely providing an ad hoc subject around which a dialogue may develop. The point here is to become aware of the dynamics of thought and debate. The Bohmian dialogue is an obvious example of the latter. The later dialogues of Plato are examples of the former. I suspect modern Socratic dialogue might best be seen as an amalgam of the two, or at least as a forum which offers opportunities for exploration in either direction.

Dialogue in counselling

So far I have been looking at different philosophical approaches to dialogue, different models of it. I now want to turn to look at two areas of expertise, or professional practice, in which philosophers may actually use dialogue. First I will look at counselling, then I will look at consultancy.

The world of counselling is an extensive one, and that of philosophical counselling is both rapidly expanding and multi-faceted. What I would like to do here is begin by looking at a non-philosophical form of counselling, and then consider how philosophical counselling might differ from it. I will therefore start with some observations regarding Rogerian counselling, for the reason that it is the one I happen to know most about. Whether or not it is appropriate to talk about it as a typical method of counselling, it is certainly one which enjoys a degree of prominence.

Rogerian counselling is emphatically not a process of cross-examination. While questioning is not altogether prohibited, it is very substantially discouraged. I assume the logic behind this is that questions may represent the counsellor taking too pro-active a role in the structuring of the counselling session. The Rogerian counsellor is not a guide, and not a protagonist. Three terms commonly used in Rogerian counselling are empathic understanding, congruence and unconditional positive regard. What I think these amount to is the counsellor both being honest and encouraging the client to be honest within a genuinely shared experience. The spoken contributions of the counsellor are there to pick up on and reflect what the client is saying, not to express an opinion about it.

There are many forms of counselling, some more suited to some people than to others, and I have seen Rogerian counselling methods achieve some very powerful results. To that extent it is clearly legitimate to talk of progress within a counselling session. But to what extent can this progress be said to be achieved through dialogue? It seems to me that to the extent to which there is genuine dialogue in Rogerian counselling, the counsellor is not really a party to it. The task of the counsellor is primarily one of reflection, of helping the client achieve awareness, thereby facilitating the internal dialogue of the client. While the contributions of the counsellor may point towards progress in some directions more than others, in the end all of the steps are taken by the client. To put it another way, there are two parties to the discussion, but only really one to the dialogue.

It seems to me that no genuinely philosophical form of counselling could operate this way. To recall Aristotle's definition of dialectic, in philosophical counselling there surely must be some cross-examination, some questioning, some challenging. While part, perhaps, of what philosophical counselling might seek to do is to improve the quality of thinking of the client, it seems to me that philosophers also bring some further specialist knowledge to the process. What precisely this knowledge is will depend on the individual. A philosophical counsellor who has specialised more in metaphysics may operate differently from one who has specialised more in ethics, for example. Whatever the details, however, it seems to me that a philosophical counsellor must be a full participant in a dialogue with the client.

There is a further point of contrast I would make. Rogerian counselling is client-led and client-centred to a very high degree. If the client is not able to originate leaps of reason or imagination, then they will simply not occur. In philosophical counselling, the client may be pushed by the counsellor into making such leaps through having assumptions challenged. Perhaps one way of encapsulating this is to say that where Rogerian counselling seeks to deepen awareness, philosophical counselling seeks to deepen understanding.

Of course, Rogerian counselling is not the only kind of counselling, and it might be argued that it lies at the farthest end of the spectrum of the counselling spectrum from philosophical counselling. Whether or not that is true, the point I want to make here is that at least one prominent form of counselling may operate without recourse to dialogue, in the strict sense, although it clearly involves a great deal of discussion. On the other hand, I would argue that dialogue is indispensable to philosophical counselling.

Dialogue and philosophical consultancy

I turn now from counselling to consultancy. Consultancy is a vague term, but I am assuming here, as a rule of thumb, that counselling typically involves individuals or couples and personal matters, whereas consultancy typically involves institutions of some shape or size and professional matters. I assume that, to put it crudely, those who visit counsellors generally do so to be happier, while those who engage consultants generally do so in order to be more successful. This latter point has, of course, generated some controversy, with some suggesting that certain institutions should not be helped to become more successful. This is something of a reprise of the disagreement between Socrates and the Sophists.

The area of philosophical consultancy seems to me to be a complex one, if only because the reasons why specific people engage consultants are many and various. However, given that consultancy has to be paid for, it seems reasonable to suppose that consultants are brought in when two conditions are satisfied; first, an institution perceives there to be a problem, and, secondly, internal resources do not appear able to solve it. This second point may appear so obvious as to be almost trivial, but in fact I think it is highly significant. Institutions tend to be closed systems, and the decision-making element within them perhaps even more so. A closed system might, perhaps, be crudely defined as one which thinks in circles. A consultant can do one of two things; either help members of the system to find a solution within it, or help members of the system to find a solution outside it. In the former case, the task is to improve the quality of thinking based on existing assumptions by offering some form of training in thinking skills. Unless some of these assumptions are shown to be incompatible, no particular shift of perception is involved. It is the second kind of case which I find more interesting.

A certain degree of humility is no bad thing (especially in other people), and in that context I would like to introduce an idea of Edward De Bono's. 'When you have exhausted the different ways of looking at the problem from within, you bring in .. [a] random word in order to generate a fresh approach.' In other words, a random element introduced into a discussion may serve to motivate the imagination, helping to uncover possibilities not previously perceived. I do not, of course, wish to suggest that this is all there is to philosophical consultancy, but I believe there is a case for arguing that it is sometimes simply the introduction of a different perspective, whether or not it is a specifically philosophical one, which can help to break a log jam. Perhaps the role of the imagination is given insufficient attention in the context of problem solving.

Other than simply being an outsider, then, or offering training in reasoning skills, what has the philosophical consultant to offer? Two things, at least, spring to mind. First, to return again to Aristotle, cross-examination by someone who is sensitive to the problems of argument. Through cross-examination a discussion which is getting nowhere may be converted into a dialogue which probes new and deeper areas. To my mind, one of the great contributions which philosophy has to make is the bringing of assumptions to the surface where they can be examined in their own right. Secondly, as one familiar with the dynamics of argument, philosophical consultants may have an advanced mental map of how ideas work, and be able to spot blind alleys before people get too far into them. The first skill is more a matter of helping to create a dialogue, the second more one of trying to ensure that a dialogue is fruitful.

Dialogue and philosophers

I have asked more than once in this paper (implicitly or explicitly) what philosophers can bring to dialogue and what part dialogue plays in philosophy. To some extent it has been assumed that we know what philosophy and philosophers are. In this section I want to examine that assumption.

The battle between Socrates and the Sophists might be seen as one for the soul of philosophy. That between the Postmodernists and 'modernists' is only the most recent in a lengthy series. The winners get to define what true philosophy is, what is to count as genuine dialogue, and what is to be dismissed as mere discussion. Within academic philosophy, the winners get to decide what goes into the curriculum. A survey of the curricula of philosophy departments in the UK reveals an impressive variety of courses on offer, but a very small (indeed, barely existent) range of courses which all students are obliged to study. The existence of logic and metaphysics on the philosophical curriculum is very much an optional matter in many institutions. I for one would want to argue that anyone ignorant of both would be seriously limited as a philosophical counsellor or consultant.

Is our conception of a philosopher as fluid as our conception of philosophy? Do the two simply follow each other around? Is the notion of a philosopher exhausted in a listing of areas of academic expertise, or is there more to it than that? In particular, is there a special ethical dimension to being a philosopher? This is an especially significant question with regard to those who offer advice on moral matters. In the days when expertise in ethics meant understanding meta-ethical theories, there were few expectations in terms of personal probity. Has the resurgence of philosophical interest in practical matters made a difference?

With regard to the matter of dialogue, these considerations seem to lead to two important questions. First, should the philosopher, whether acting as consultant or counsellor, seek to advance a particular moral agenda? Secondly, should the philosopher, whether acting as consultant or counsellor, decline on moral grounds to accept certain clients? In other words, what should the ethical dimension of a philosopher's contribution to a dialogue be, and are there those with whom philosophers should refuse to enter into dialogue altogether? This might at first glance seem to be a revival of the choice between the way of Socrates and the way of the Sophists. However, before deciding one way or the other, it should be recalled that it was Socrates, not the Sophists, who entered into dialogue with all and sundry.

Conclusion

My intention here has been more to raise issues than to resolve them. I am concerned that we speak of dialogue as if it were obvious what it was and what its value is. However, the greater value we are to claim for dialogue, the clearer we need to be concerning what it really is. Furthermore, if philosophers are to claim dialogue as their particular expertise, then the precise connections between dialogue and philosophy also need to be made more apparent. I would suggest, as a minimal conclusion from what has gone before, that not every discussion amounts to a dialogue, and that the simple presence of a philosopher is not sufficient to transform one into the other. Beyond that, there is some hard thinking to do.

Trevor Curnow studied at the universities of Keele, East Anglia, Edinburgh and Lancaster, and has taught philosophy both in the UK and in Sudan. He also has qualifications in counselling, and for some years has been interested in the problem of how to bring philosophy and counselling together. He helped to pioneer the Social Ethics degree programme at St Martin's College, Lancaster, and his primary teaching and research interests lie in moral philosophy, especially in its more ancient aspects. A lot of his thinking over the past decade is contained in his Wisdom, Intuition and Ethics which was published by Ashgate earlier this year.

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