"Self-publish and be damned"

The Philosophers Magazine is the leading magazine of popular philosophy in the anglophone world. It may have stiff competition in the francophone world, where a serious interest in philosophy is considered normal, but in the intellectual market-place of England and America, this magazine is quite significant. So, when Julian Baggini e-mailed me to ask a few questions about my self-published books on George Berkeley's metaphysics, I was very pleased to take part. Some of the questions were factual, others were about opinions. So, I typed in some answers off the top of my head and hit 'Send'. Of course, I had no idea what sort of treatment Julian was planning.

When my copy of the magazine arrived through the letterbox this morning, I was somewhat taken aback by how confrontational and even aggressive I seemed in the quotations that Julian had picked out from my e-mail. Well, it is true that I did write what he quoted, and I still agree with what I wrote, but ... I normally wrap those sentiments up in more diplomatic expressions. (To see what I mean, look at the bottom of the penultimate column of the article. It's hardly going to win me friends in academia.)

Baggini's article offers an intelligent analysis of the self-publishing of philosophy. He is, perhaps, a little easy on the academic publishers. The publishers say that they don't automatically bin all book proposals from authors who do not have academic affiliations. But then they describe a process that amounts to the same thing. I don't think that the publishers need to be coy about this. The commercial world is harsh and time is money. They cannot devote resources to checking out every maverick philosopher that hits the keyboard.

What is more interesting, though, is to observe the impact that the academic-consumerist complex has on innovation in the market-place of ideas. The background to any such consideration must, of course, be the totally stifling intellectual environment of totalitarian regimes. In contrast to those regimes, the free publishing world is a great blessing, and we should bear in mind its importance. On the other hand, the backward-looking adherence to tradition that we find in academia prevents the rootless chaos that would ensue in a purely libertarian publishing world. So, within this tension between freedom and populism on the one hand, and the transmission and development of intellectual heritage on the other, the publishing world has created a reasonable and workable system. Nevertheless, it has its imperfections. The imperfection that Baggini writes about in his article is that this system severely hampers radical innovation in the realm of serious thought.

To be sure, there is a great deal of innovation in academia. But it always takes place within a matrix of strictly observed conventions, rigorously unquestioned assumptions, and blindly unexamined beliefs. Academic research works by establishing an platform of an established world-view, and all the building up and knocking down of theories takes place on top of that platform. Ripping up the planks that make up the platform is not permitted.

To advocate a radical solution to some problem, one has to operate outside the academic framework. But if one is trying to put forward ideas that require serious and sustained thought to follow, then the consumerist booksellers will not be interested either. So, there is a block. Big new ideas do not get the visibility that they need to be tested in the market-place.

I have been very lucky in that the University of Arizona's conferences on consciousness have given me an opportunity to present myself on a poster stall. And the local bookshop in West Hampstead -- West End Lane Books -- has stocked my books. Nevertheless, there is no infrastructure in place for efficiently presenting radically innovative ideas to the public.

This may sound a bit like special pleading. Everybody who has written a novel, or a collection of poems, knows that it is immensely difficult to get noticed and published. Why should life be any easier for philosophers? My answer would be that philosophers are performing a different kind of service. An author of novels or poems, even a serious author, is primarily concerned with entertaining the reader. It may be witty, intelligent, or stimulating writing but still the primary function is to entertain. Philosophy, on the other hand, plays a role beyond the immediate enjoyment of the book in hand. Philosophical writing puts new ideas into circulation, which can be of significance in a wide range of contexts far removed from the original book.

So, by blocking radical innovation in philosophy, the academic-consumerist complex is not simply making life hard for another group of authors. It is depriving the market place of an important and lasting contribution.

What is the solution? Money, of course. In the UK, the lottery administrators regularly hand out huge dollops of wonga to cultural and other worthy causes. For example, the Millennium Dome recently had a further £47 million poured into its money-losing venture, on top of the £800 million it has already received. My proposal is that each year, a mere £1 million of lottery money should be handed out in the form of ten bursaries of £100,000 to ten independent philosophers, who will be required to write clear, accessible treatments of their philosophies within two years of receipt of the bursaries. The philosophers would be chosen by a committee of people from different walks of life, mostly non-academic: a city trader, an advertising creative, a surgeon, a vicar, a hypnotherapist, or whatever. Over the years, these books will build up to an astonishing library of the most imaginative philosophy around.

Of course, this will never happen in conservative England. Maybe in the USA, a private foundation with perspicacious vision will make it happen. After all, something similar is already being done by the Templeton Foundation.

© Peter B. Lloyd, 2000.

[ Ursa Software Home Page | Peter Lloyd Home Page | Ursa Publishing | Mind Detox ]