The journey I’m narrating here began at the University of the Philippines, Diliman, where I earned a bachelor’s degree in communication (major in journalism). However, it was my encounter with the discipline of philosophy that sparked a significant transformation within me, leading me to pursue further studies in this field.
My first teacher in philosophy (Philosophy I – Philosophical Analysis) was the intimidating Luciano “Jun” Mariano Jr. As a teacher, he would ran my and my classmates’ answers to his questions through with more questions that ricocheted around our skulls. It was my first semester in UP then, and I was expecting to hear the names “Socrates”, “Plato”, and “Aristotle” in Philo I, but instead, I found myself face-to-face with a teacher who would talk about topics, intellectual movements, and thinkers that were utterly alien to my knowledge system. I was aimlessly wandering inside a cave.
A few months after finishing Grade 10, I was caught in a philosophical whirlwind. The concepts of essentialism, referential theory of meaning, correspondence criterion of truth, logical positivism and the philosophers, Wittgenstein, G.E. Moore, Russell, Mill, Frege, etc., were all foreign ingredients of a highly intoxicating cocktail, and I was woefully underhydrated. Mariano was on a different intellectual plane, and we had a lot of catching up to do. Philo I felt like a class taught at a higher university.
After that semester, I made a promise to myself that I would not revisit Philo I until I was fully prepared to grasp its contents, as outlined in Prof. Andresito Acuña’s textbook.
I was already doing my master’s studies when I came across Mariano’s article “The Roads and Roars of Relativism.” I read and re-read it at different stages of my intellectual growth, and his main points and arguments remained solidly built. They were like well-aged cheese, and they make you think of an aging fine wine.
I later noticed that I hadn’t seen Mariano on campus for a long time. Eventually, I heard he resigned from UP many years before reaching the age of retirement. By my own lights, Mariano was a significant loss to the University. You will know this when you hear him eloquently discuss a philosophical topic and study his published works, reflecting his classy, even if confrontational, writing and thinking styles.
The unfolding intellectual development at Cambridge University during the heydays of analytic philosophy, shortly before World War II, created global ripples that reached the Department of Philosophy of UP Diliman.
Though they seem to be progressively fading, I suppose such ripples remain discernible until now.
Acuña was a student of Prof. Ricardo Pascual, who was once a student of Bertrand Russell and Rudolf Carnap. Pascual brought the tradition of Anglo-American analytic philosophy to the UP Diliman.
In the late 1980s, Acuña eventually wrote a GE textbook titled “Philosophical Analysis,” which I couldn’t avoid reading and studying as a college freshman in Mariano’s class.
I read again the latest edition of the same book when I took my master’s in philosophy. Acuña was already my professor then. It was always evident that he loved being asked questions, interview style, about his book and other articles. Like a cat enjoying the sunbeam, he purred through his conversations with his graduate students. At this stage, I started to see with distinct clarity the beauty of being able to do analytic introspection. Its cleansing effect on slovenly thinking gives you a high, an undeniable sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. It makes you want to drink some well-deserved cold beer, in celebration, after deciding to give your analytic enterprise a refreshment break.
Analytic philosophy is by no means a perfect area of study in UP’s General Education curriculum, but if taken seriously, it makes an undeniable significant contribution to the students’ liberal education. It teaches important lessons about analysis, types of knowledge, evidence, good thinking, and communication, which are all indispensable in any field.
Analytic philosophy, despite its limits, would eventually prove very helpful in my studies as a professor of philosophy of education and values education and student of law.
Of course, there is always a need to fortify analytic philosophy with other instruments of knowing or thinking from different disciplines. That’s what I learned in my undergraduate and graduate liberal education at the University.
I also greatly benefited from Professors Leonardo de Castro, Napoleon Mabaquaio, and Ciriaco Sayson. After receiving my master’s and doctoral degrees, I continued to learn from De Castro, who generously shared his insights about moral and values education with me and my spouse, Prof. Maricris Acido-Muega.
Mabaquaio, with his quiet intensity, nudged me toward Hegel. Mabaquaio’s pedagogy was non-intrusive yet effective. I was well-focused when I studied Hegel’s Phenomenology of the Spirit, even if it was like walking barefooted on a hot tin roof. It turned out that with enough caffeine and grit, anything is readable, even Hegel. I must say being able to hurdle Hegel when you’re a new philosophy major is definitely a liberating experience.
Prof. Silvino Epistola, who was a student of Harvard professor of logic W.V. Quine, would later advise me to read and study Hegel in German. Why not? But not now or in the near future.
Sayson was also instrumental in my doctoral training and education. As my dissertation critic, he helped me think more clearly about my developing manuscript until I had revised my work to his satisfaction. It was not easy to satisfy Sayson, but looking back, that was another liberating experience in the hands of a highly competent professor of philosophy. Sayson allowed me to follow my reason, develop my constructs, and prepare for the final exam, which was the oral defense of my dissertation manuscript.
I like algebra, but X in algebra is just hidden in the problem, and it has a definite value. Philosophy, applied or otherwise, is a different beast. The X you’re searching for is elusive and slippery. You chase it, grapple with it, and watch it flee again. It often leaves you more confused. But it’s a good confusion. It makes you want to drink coffee, wine, or cold beer. The chase may look unending, but it’s thrilling and satisfying, even if mentally exhausting and unsettling.
What defines the discipline is that no one has the monopoly of having the best answer to a stubborn issue. You’ll always have to deploy reason to get someone to submit to your persuasion. For that matter, doing philosophy is a darn great preoccupation and profession.
