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Don't Think for Yourself: Authority and Belief in Medieval Philosophy
How do we judge whether we should be willing to follow the views of experts or whether we ought to try to come to our own, independent views? This book seeks the answer in medieval philosophical thought. In this engaging study into the history of philosophy and epistemology, Peter Adamson provides an answer to a question as relevant today as it was in the medieval how and when should we turn to the authoritative expertise of other people in forming our own beliefs? He challenges us to reconsider our approach to this question through a constructive recovery of the intellectual and cultural traditions of the Islamic world, the Byzantine Empire, and Latin Christendom. Adamson begins by foregrounding the distinction in Islamic philosophy between taqlīd , or the uncritical acceptance of authority, and ijtihād , or judgment based on independent effort, the latter of which was particularly prized in Islamic law, theology, and philosophy during the medieval period. He then demonstrates how the Islamic tradition paves the way for the development of what he calls a “justified taqlīd ,” according to which one develops the skills necessary to critically and selectively follow an authority based on their reliability. The book proceeds to reconfigure our understanding of the relation between authority and independent thought in the medieval world by illuminating how women found spaces to assert their own intellectual authority, how medieval writers evaluated the authoritative status of Plato and Aristotle, and how independent reasoning was deployed to defend one Abrahamic faith against the other. This clear and eloquently written book will interest scholars in and enthusiasts of medieval philosophy, Islamic studies, Byzantine studies, and the history of thought.
- GenresPhilosophyNonfiction
194 pages, Hardcover
Published October 15, 2022
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133 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
November 5, 2022
For those who want to read the book, do not miss the study question:
How and when should we turn to the trusted experience of others in forming our own beliefs?
How and when should we turn to the trusted experience of others in forming our own beliefs?
May 7, 2024
I recommend that those not profoundly familiar with philosophy begin by reading the book's last paragraph thoroughly and understanding it well before starting from the beginning. Doing so can enhance the reading experience of this valuable book because you'll grasp the direction of all the discussed ideas, particularly if you are overwhelmed or distracted by the complexity of some of the philosophical concepts presented.
Remember that the book's actual goal is to share with the world the importance and depth of medieval philosophy through the theme of 'Taqlid' v/s 'Fikr'.
Remember that the book's actual goal is to share with the world the importance and depth of medieval philosophy through the theme of 'Taqlid' v/s 'Fikr'.
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December 28, 2023WSj column on plagiarism
April 13, 2023
Can medieval debates on authority and expertise help us with our arguments over expertise today? Don’t Think for Yourself: Authority and Belief in Medieval Philosophy by Peter Adamson wants us to consider this possibility.
The last few years of Brexit, Trump, fake news, Covid-19 and other events have forced many to question the role of experts in society and when to listen to them and when to ignore them.
While our contemporary debates are particular to us, arguments over expertise have raged throughout the ages. While many incorrectly assume the medieval world has little to teach us, Don’t Think for Yourself delves into the sometimes surprising debates from the past, which feel like echoes of our own times.
“Medieval philosophers engaged in explicit and productive reflection on this very question of when, and how, one might responsibly form one’s beliefs based on authority.”
Looking at Christian, Islamic and Jewish thinkers in the Middle East and Europe, Adamson challenges us on two levels.
Firstly Adamson considers medieval philosophy in our contemporary debates and secondly, he thinks of the Middle Ages in global terms. As Adamson points out, the line between different religions and communities is often blurred and philosophers from different communities interacted, debated and were influenced by one another. Diversity is not a new thing.
Under what conditions should people follow their own independent reason or follow the advice of an authority figure? The problem of Taqlid [imitation] vs ijtihad [independent effort] was a core debate among medieval philosophers, theologians and legal scholars.
It’s important to outline here that there was no universally accepted answer to these questions, which Don’t Think for Yourself very clearly demonstrates.
There is no Islamic, Christian or Jewish position on this, rather there are different responses from Muslims, Christians and Jews, which strongly interact with each other.
Taqlid, which has the meaning of both tradition and following the opinions of an authority figure, was a source of lively contention.
In particular, to what extent can Taqlid be relied upon, if at all, and what qualifications should be applied to it? The issues grappled with here mirror our contemporary debates around Covid-19, the problem of public knowledge and what ought to be done about it.
One group of Muslim jurists, the Asharties, were deeply sceptical about Taqlid, partly due to the fact it exposes the average believer to something called epistemic luck or “believers whose convictions are formed by taqlid will only be right if they happen to follow reliable authority”: by blinding accepting a particular specific school or scholar, right and wrong is down to chance.
Another contention if someone forms a belief solely obtained through blind acceptance to a school, it leaves them ill-prepared for dealing with doubt and could cause a loss of belief. One Asharite theologian argues, “to accept taqlid is wrong and that one must carry out proofs and demonstrations.”
This does not mean Asharites believed ordinary people needed to decide all matters on their own, as Adamson shows, Al-Juwayni (d. 1085) worried demanding full-blown rational inquiry from them on every matter was asking too much. Moroccan scholar Muhammad Ibn Yusuf Al-Sansui (d. 1490) had a blanket ban on Taqlid, but other scholars believed Taqlid should exist in some form.
Al-Ghazali (d. 1111) went further and believed independent inquiry should only exist for a select few and total Taqlid should exist for the rest. But even here Al-Ghazali’s view has more layers to it, “still think for ourselves,” Adamson writes, “by thinking about which authority is worth believing.”
As Adamson qualifies, Al-Ghazali puts forward a kind of epistemic bootstrapping, “in which we submit to an authority in some domain but only after understanding the domain well enough to satisfy ourselves that these authority figures have genuine expertise.”
Don’t Think for Yourself is a timely intervention from the past into the present. And while it is up to the individual reader to decide who they think offers the best insight today, Peter Adamson offers us a chance to have a dialogue across the generations, cultures and geographies.
The lively debates in the pre-modern world should destabilise any arguments that present past societies as intellectually homogeneous, driven by irrational beliefs and lacking complex and nuanced thinkers.
We may not agree with what our predecessors thought about expertise and our relationship to it, but reading them might trigger a new way of thinking about our problems. A thoughtful, engaging and erudite book that leaves one wanting more.
The last few years of Brexit, Trump, fake news, Covid-19 and other events have forced many to question the role of experts in society and when to listen to them and when to ignore them.
While our contemporary debates are particular to us, arguments over expertise have raged throughout the ages. While many incorrectly assume the medieval world has little to teach us, Don’t Think for Yourself delves into the sometimes surprising debates from the past, which feel like echoes of our own times.
“Medieval philosophers engaged in explicit and productive reflection on this very question of when, and how, one might responsibly form one’s beliefs based on authority.”
Looking at Christian, Islamic and Jewish thinkers in the Middle East and Europe, Adamson challenges us on two levels.
Firstly Adamson considers medieval philosophy in our contemporary debates and secondly, he thinks of the Middle Ages in global terms. As Adamson points out, the line between different religions and communities is often blurred and philosophers from different communities interacted, debated and were influenced by one another. Diversity is not a new thing.
Under what conditions should people follow their own independent reason or follow the advice of an authority figure? The problem of Taqlid [imitation] vs ijtihad [independent effort] was a core debate among medieval philosophers, theologians and legal scholars.
It’s important to outline here that there was no universally accepted answer to these questions, which Don’t Think for Yourself very clearly demonstrates.
There is no Islamic, Christian or Jewish position on this, rather there are different responses from Muslims, Christians and Jews, which strongly interact with each other.
Taqlid, which has the meaning of both tradition and following the opinions of an authority figure, was a source of lively contention.
In particular, to what extent can Taqlid be relied upon, if at all, and what qualifications should be applied to it? The issues grappled with here mirror our contemporary debates around Covid-19, the problem of public knowledge and what ought to be done about it.
One group of Muslim jurists, the Asharties, were deeply sceptical about Taqlid, partly due to the fact it exposes the average believer to something called epistemic luck or “believers whose convictions are formed by taqlid will only be right if they happen to follow reliable authority”: by blinding accepting a particular specific school or scholar, right and wrong is down to chance.
Another contention if someone forms a belief solely obtained through blind acceptance to a school, it leaves them ill-prepared for dealing with doubt and could cause a loss of belief. One Asharite theologian argues, “to accept taqlid is wrong and that one must carry out proofs and demonstrations.”
This does not mean Asharites believed ordinary people needed to decide all matters on their own, as Adamson shows, Al-Juwayni (d. 1085) worried demanding full-blown rational inquiry from them on every matter was asking too much. Moroccan scholar Muhammad Ibn Yusuf Al-Sansui (d. 1490) had a blanket ban on Taqlid, but other scholars believed Taqlid should exist in some form.
Al-Ghazali (d. 1111) went further and believed independent inquiry should only exist for a select few and total Taqlid should exist for the rest. But even here Al-Ghazali’s view has more layers to it, “still think for ourselves,” Adamson writes, “by thinking about which authority is worth believing.”
As Adamson qualifies, Al-Ghazali puts forward a kind of epistemic bootstrapping, “in which we submit to an authority in some domain but only after understanding the domain well enough to satisfy ourselves that these authority figures have genuine expertise.”
Don’t Think for Yourself is a timely intervention from the past into the present. And while it is up to the individual reader to decide who they think offers the best insight today, Peter Adamson offers us a chance to have a dialogue across the generations, cultures and geographies.
The lively debates in the pre-modern world should destabilise any arguments that present past societies as intellectually homogeneous, driven by irrational beliefs and lacking complex and nuanced thinkers.
We may not agree with what our predecessors thought about expertise and our relationship to it, but reading them might trigger a new way of thinking about our problems. A thoughtful, engaging and erudite book that leaves one wanting more.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews