"They mustn't have had many good submissions" - impostor syndrome and negative assumptions

A couple of months go, I sent off an abstract to a CFP for a conference and this week I got an email saying I'd been accepted/invited to present my work there. "Hooray!" I thought - which was almost immediately followed by the thought "Maybe they didn't have many good submissions." I astonished even myself with my instantaneous self-doubt! "Maybe they're desperate for speakers?" I wondered, and "Maybe their reviewing procedures are biased?" I asked myself as I recalled the double-blind review procedure.

I can, through an act of will - and in defiance of my inner critic - insist to myself "No, my work was selected because it was good, not because they are desperate or careless with their selections", but it does sometimes feel forced and disingenuous to say that to myself. 

Of course, I recognise that my self-doubts are impostor syndrome, plain and simple (but if I recognise I have it, then I realise I'm good, and if I know I'm good then I don't have impostor syndrome!) 

Anecdotally, impostor syndrome seems commonplace among high achieving people. As kids, they see coming second as failure; getting 98% in a test just shows you weren't perfect; and no matter how well they do, still the feeling remains inside them that it's simply not good enough. Does this come from the school system? (I've seen the 'Two stars and a wish' strategy all over the place - ie each piece of work receives two positive comments and one suggestion for how it could be improved further.) I think self-doubt is perhaps reinforced by a school system which of course wants to push children to make progress. If my teachers hadn't reminded me that I needed to put capital letters after a full stop, I probably wouldn't do it now. But it can't be just the school who are to blame, as there are many kids who (outwardly, at least) aren't self-critical. But so often these aren't the kids who are getting 95% and just have a positive self-image; they are the kids who are getting 45% but just don't care that they're doing badly. There really does seem to be a correlation between high achievers and the feeling that one isn't (yet) good enough. 

Some self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy is probably what causes the high achieving - or at least helps it along. I work hard, achieve well, feel like it's still not good enough, and so work harder and achieve more. It's a good recipe for high achievement!

John Stuart Mill (I ❤️ Mill!) wrote that it's better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. In many ways, it seems to be true - the esteemed but sometimes dissatisfying life of high achievers does seem to be of a higher quality than the satisfaction a 'fool' gets from, say, reality TV and beer. I'd hope that achievement and happiness are not mutually exclusive, but if they are, then for my son I'd choose happiness over achievement every time. 

But what of my own impostor syndrome? Well, I suppose I really ought to heed the advice I've given to various kids about taking pride in your achievements and accepting praise and compliments with good grace. So I'll say this (even though it feels boastful and forced): if I've been chosen to speak at a conference, it's because I'm good enough to do so. I'm awesome!!

Why people encourage suicide online

Many philosophical issues - and many interactions with others - are not matters of life and death. But some are.

Please note that this post contains discussion of suicide, and why some people endorse suicide. If you think you will find this upsetting then you may choose not to read on.

One of this week's headlines involves a 16 year old girl who took her own life after she posted a poll on Instagram asking her followers or others to decide whether or not she should die; 69% of respondents voted that she should die... A few hours later she took her own life.

This is an utterly tragic story. Any loss of life, particularly one so young, is really sad. It's made so much more tragic when the cause of the death is suicide. And worse again that she did so upon the suggestion, encouragement and endorsement of others. Suicide is, in my opinion at least, the most overwhelmingly sad cause of death for family and friends of the deceased. Whenever someone dies it provides some small amount of comfort to know that "he had a good life" "he fought right till the very end" or "he made the most of his life" but these cannot be said when suicide is the cause of death, because the deceased was not just unhappy, but so immeasurably unhappy that they think there is nothing worth living for any more. My son is only young but I know there is no greater fear for a parent. It's the second leading cause of death in children and teens (behind car accidents) in the Western world. It can happen to anyone and is totally preventable and never something which should be encouraged or done flippantly as a result of a poll on Instagram. Suicide is not a hashtag; it ends the life of a person and ruins the lives of family and friends - particularly parents - of the deceased, and I hope if anyone close to me ever feels so desperate, that they turn to me rather than social media.

But this is not a post solely about the tragedy of suicide - the tragedy of suicide is fairly obvious. This post concerns the girl who took her life after the Instagram poll and asks the question: why did 69% of people vote that she should kill herself?

In some sense, people's motives are an empirical matter; their motive is what it is, and that's the end of it. But it's my blog so I can do it if I want, even if it's not "real philosophy", so I'll hypothesise and comment upon some possible reasons why someone might vote yes in a suicide poll.

So here are some possible reasons I think someone might vote yes to a suicide poll on Instagram. I think they're fairly exhaustive but maybe there are other motives too.
- they're using reverse psychology to save her life
- they think suicide is the ideal way for her to end her pain and suffering
- they think suicide is awesome
- they're evil, sadistic bastards
- they don't think she'll really do it
- the distant and impersonal nature of social media makes people say things they wouldn't normally say

Let's consider each of these:

They're using reverse psychology to save her life

Sometimes I can't decide between A and B, so I flip a coin to help me decide. Sometimes when it turns up A, I feel disappointed, and that tells me that what I really wanted was B, so I do B. Similarly, sometimes when you can't decide something, having another person suggest a course of action can actually persuade you to do the opposite; it makes you realise what you actually want. Perhaps some people were attempting this sort of 'bluff' to make the girl confront the reality of suicide so as to realise that she did in fact want to live, in the same way that sometimes telling a child to give up X-ing makes them try harder to X. It's reverse psychology at its simplest. So yes it's possible that people were trying to do this, but I don't think there are many people who would want someone to live and therefore tell them to commit suicide; it's too risky a bluff. But it could combine with another reason below such as they don't think she'll do it.

They think suicide is the ideal way for her to end her pain and suffering 

It's possible that some people voted 'yes' to the girl's suicide out of some sort of misguided sympathy. They saw someone in mental anguish and felt sorry for her; they wanted her pain to end. In the same way that someone might see a dog in extreme pain and conclude that it's better for the dog to be euthanised so its pain ends. This sort of mentality relies on the mistaken assumption that staying alive will be bad, and is almost certainly the faulty reasoning which suicidal people utilise. Even if something terrible has happened in your life, suicide is never the answer. There will be some bad parts of life but life is still precious and suicide only ruins the lives of others. Except in cases of painful terminal and degenerative illnesses, life is better than death. Most people know this, and enjoy most of life. I'm not trying to be flippant, as I've felt suicidal before, but life got better and now I have an awesome life.

So did people vote yes out of misguided sympathy, or giving the girl what she wants? This is possible, but highly implausible. If someone really cared about the girl, they'd urge her to seek help and go on living.

They think suicide is awesome

I suppose there are some people who think suicide is a good thing. Perhaps because it rids the world of sad people, and it's just basically cool and decadent, that it's done by celebrities, and a way of gaining notoriety. This is a ludicrous viewpoint. Anyone who thinks suicide is good is serously mistaken; it's the worst thing in the world. I don't think that any living person genuinely thinks suicide is cool and a great thing to do, but if they do they need to turn to family and friends and mental health services to seek help (some links are at the bottom of this post).

But do I believe anyone voted yes because they have this viewpoint? It's a distinct possibility. Social media can become an echo chamber and maybe her followers think that suicide is a good thing, as she did.

They're evil, sadistic bastards 

This is the go-to reason which most of us assume when we hear that people voted yes to someone contemplating suicide. There have been polls (I don't have any references though) where people have said that if murder was legal or they knew they wouldn't face punishment then they would probably do it. I guess many people who have that feeling are thinking it with a particular person in mind. They don't want to kill just anyone, they want to kill their ex or someone who bullied them, for example. But yeah there are undoubtedly people who just want the experience of killing. Maybe they've killed insects and small animals and enjoyed it and they fancy killing someone but they don't want to go to prison... but then up pops an Instagram poll and they get the chance to cause someone's death just for fun, and so they click yes. All the fun of a murder, without the prison time (however it's worth noting that encouraging or helping someone to take their own life is a crime in the UK.)

I think the "guiltless murder" mentality probably (sadly) accounts for some of the yes votes.

They don't think she'll really do it

Many people who see a poll about suicide probably doubt that the poster will really follow through, but that alone wouldn't explain them clicking yes. It would have to be teamed with another belief, like "I don't think she'll do it, so I'll call her bluff" or "I don't think she'll do it, so it doesn't matter if I click yes". Even so, either of these motives are taking a very risky and very flippant attitude towards life and death. Because it shows that the person voring hasn't really grasped the gravity of the situation. Yes the girl who posted the poll might be bluffing, but are we so sure that she's bluffing that we're willing to bet her life on it? If yes then we fall into the "evil sadistic bastard" group above, and if no then we would not click yes, just in case she means it. I doubt that the butcher would stab my mum, but if he's stood there with his knife and asks if I would like her to be stabbed, then I'm not going to call his bluff. We wouldn't risk someone else's life on the basis of a hunch unless we kind of wanted the death to occur, or simply didn't care one way or the other, in which case, we're evil sadistic bastards.

The distant social media effect

This is the notion that the distant and impersonal nature of social media makes people say things they wouldn't normally say, and although I think this is probably true, it still does not fully explain people's actions.

The Trolley Problem is a famous philosophical thought experiment involving a runaway train, where a person must make a choice: do nothing and five people will die, or pull a lever and you kill one person (saving five). Most people say they'd pull the lever. In a second scenario, a person must make a choice: do nothing and five people will die, or physically push another person onto the train tracks, and you kill one person (saving five). Here, most people say they wouldn't push the person -- even though the consequences and indeed the motives are identical to the scenario with the lever.

Why?

Probably some sort of proximity effect. Physical contact with the victim brings it much closer to home, and that makes us more mindful of our actions. Knowing that some people died in a faraway land is easier to cope with than knowing that some people died in a nearby area, even when we don't know the victims. News organisations are well aware of this, and the agenda is always local-centric. Translate this into social media and suicide and we might understand that the suicide of someone in front of you in the flesh is more shocking than the suicide of someone far away whom you never knew, and don't see them dying, you don't see their family grieving, and you don't see the aftermath of their death. Analogously, being mean to someone online is 'easier' than being mean to someone in the flesh.

But being mean is still being mean, and encouraging suicide is still encouraging suicide; would a person of good moral standing be mean or encourage suicide simply because they're online? I don't think they would. It seems to me that the anonymity of the Internet coupled with the ease of making comments without dealing with the consequences merely makes people say things they kind of want to say anyway, but they stop themselves because of social convention. Social media is a bit like a "truth serum" inasmuch as people who are nasty at heart show themselves to be nasty when online. Nice people don't encourage others to commit suicide simply because they've gone online. For example, before social media, when chat rooms and online forums were a thing, I frequently corrected people's spelling, grammar, and apostrophe usage, I pointed out flaws in their arguments, and I told them when they'd got their facts wrong. The Internet didn't make me become such a pedant; I am a pedant, and the Internet gave me the means to say the things I always felt like saying, but was (often) too inhibited. In other words, it showed me up for what I really am. Analogously, the people who endorse suicide online almost certainly have a nasty streak in them, and social media has merely brought it out for all to see. The distancing effect of the Internet does not on its own explain people who voted yes to the suicide of a girl. The idea that people say things online which they wouldn't normally say is only a partial explanation, and must be coupled with some underlying personality trait or belief such as the ones mentioned above (eg being an evil bastard, or thinking she won't do it) in order to be a full explanation.

Conclusion 

We're a highly evolved species, but for all our advancement we still have some very primitive drives within us. The drive to be successful, and to out-compete others is right up there with the drive to procreate as one of our most primitive urges. One way to out-compete others is by making yourself look better; another is by making others look worse. That explains bullying (in a very clinical and woefully inadequate way). When people think they can improve their social standing - eg by being nasty to someone else - they may take the opportunity to do so. And when people think there is no possible way for them to ever improve their social standing, they may perceive that there is just no point in anything any more. People are the best thing in the world, and the worst thing in the world. But there is never a good reason to encourage another person to take their own life, and there is never a time when suicide is the only or best choice. There is always, always something that can be done, and someone who can help.

Here are some useful links if you are feeling unhappy, depressed or suicidal, or you know someone who is:
The Samaritans website or phone 116123
Child line website or phone 0800 1111
Mind website
And of course, if you feel you can't keep yourself safe right now, call your GP for an emergency appointment, or 999.

Driverless cars, the trolley problem, and tyranny of the majority

Today BBC News ran an article entitled Driverless cars: who should die in a crash? The news story has come about because researchers at MIT have conducted a study analysing more than 40 million responses to an online 'trolley problem'-style ethical survey.

The trolley problem is a classic philosophy problem (which, by chance, I taught today to a class of Year 5 pupils). The problem is this:

A train is hurtling along a track; and on the track ahead are five innocent people who will die if you do nothing. You can't stop the train (its brakes have failed) but you can pull a lever to switch it onto another track - where it will kill just one innocent person. Should you pull the lever or not?

My 'Trolley Problem' powerpoint for the Year 5 pupils.
Several of them said it would matter if some of the people were
criminals; no one said the people's skin colour or gender mattered.

Most people (and indeed the pupils I taught today) say that one should pull the lever based on purely utilitarian grounds - this can be phrased in the words of Spock from Star Trek: "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few". In other words, although it's bad for one person to die, it's even worse for five people to die, so pull the lever and kill one.

It's OK for us to hypothesise about what we'd do in this very unlikely scenario, because it's just a thought experiment: it's not real. But driverless cars are forcing us to reconsider this problem not as a hypothetical possibility, but as a very real possibility. If a driverless car is in a no-win situation where its brakes have failed and someone will die, who should it be? The passengers, the toddler on the zebra crossing, or the old ladies on the pavement?

Well, the people at MIT designed a survey / experiment ("The Moral Machine") to find out people's responses to these very sorts of questions. So far so good you might think, but here comes the troubling part: BBC News quotes the MIT people as saying:

"Before we allow our cars to make ethical decisions, we need to have a global conversation to express our preferences to the companies that will design moral algorithms, and to the policymakers that will regulate them."

Now although this falls short of their suggesting that we use the results of the survey to inform the moral programming of driverless cars, it certainly seems to be in that ballpark. But this, I maintain, is a dangerous and morally troubling step towards eugenics-by-driverless-car. Why? Because in the Moral Machine survey, people's choices about who should die and who should be saved are based on judgments about factors such as age, gender, class, weight, and how law-abiding the person is.

Screenshot from the Moral Machine survey

An optional section of the survey involves moving sliders according to how important you think that particular factor is. For example, you can say that saving higher class over lower class is really important, and saving the young over the old is fairly important. One factor which didn't feature in the survey was race/ethnicity/religion. The people at MIT probably thought it was just too controversial to see whether people would save a black man rather than a white man, or a Muslim woman rather than a Christian woman - but these are probably factors which would yield interesting and distasteful results --but no less interesting and no more distasteful than the actual results of the survey, which show that people choose to save:

• Women more than men
• The young more than the old
• Fit people more than fat people
• Middle class more than lower class

So why am I troubled by this? Well, driverless cars are on their way, whether we like it or not. And they will be faced with genuine moral decisions, whether we like it or not. And they will need some moral guidance or 'rules' to follow in order to make those split-second decisions about whether the fat young person or the thin old person should die. Yes, a moral system programmed into the cars will be absolutely essential - however....

Basing the moral system of a driverless car on the results of a survey - however large - is a huge issue. Even if we ignore the fact that there is no barrier to the same person taking the survey more than once (I took it twice) and even if we ignore the fact that details of the pictures in the survey aren't immediately clear (in my first time around, I didn't notice that some people were crossing the road on the red man, nor that some of the stick men were supposed to represent homeless people) there is still a massive problem in the form of the tyranny of the majority. 

John Stuart Mill (I love that guy!) in On Liberty wrote that we must take steps to guard against the tyranny of the majority - this is when a large group of people get their way simply because they are greater in number than a small group of people. Now if you ask me, the majority getting their way is unproblematic if we've taken a vote about whether we should have chocolate ice cream or strawberry ice cream - or about whether we should visit a castle or the beach tomorrow... but the majority verdict really does become tyrannical when the issues at stake are the welfare, lives and rights of people. And these are the very things that are at stake with these driverless cars trolley-problem-style dilemmas. The results of the Moral Machine survey show that the majority prioritise the young over the old, and the rich over the poor - and suppose a similar survey also shows the majority prioritise able-bodied people over disabled people, and white people over brown people. This alone is disturbing enough, but if we then proceed to program the moral system of the majority into driverless cars, and set them free on our public highways - well, it's the tyranny of the majority at its most foul, and a recipe for eugenics by carcrash.

We simply cannot allow the vulgar prejudices of the majority to inform the moral systems of driverless cars. Driverless cars need a way to determine which action to take, of course, but this should be based on non-prejudicial factors such as the likelihood of surviving the crash, the number of people, and the location of the impact: the age, gender, class (etc.) of people should not - ever - be a factor in decision-making about who lives and who dies.

The value in atheists learning about the Bible

This morning, my son refused to go to school. Why? Because yesterday, his teacher had told the class the story about Jesus feeding the 5000 with only two fish and five loaves of bread, and it angered my son.

I am an atheist, and like most parents, I have shared my belief system with my offspring, and now he believes what I believe (ie there is no God). So this morning when he was flat out refusing to go to school (which is very unlike him) I tried to offer an explanation of (a) why I think the story was written in the Bible, and (b) why it might be useful sometimes to learn about things we don't believe in.

Man trying to catch lunch for him and his 4,999 friends

My son is only in Key Stage 1 of primary school, so my discussion with him was fairly basic. First I got him to consider how big a fish is. "Any size" was his very reasonable answer - for example, feeding 5000 people with two whale-sharks (the world's largest fish) is quite plausible, and to the best of my knowledge, the Bible does not describe what type of fish was shared out. Then I suggested to my son that a story can alter a little bit with each person who tells it: A describes Jesus as feeding a small group with two large fish; B describes Jesus feeding a group with two fish; C describes Jesus feeding a large group with two small fish; D describes Jesus feeding an enormous crowd with two tiny fish - etc.

So I'd explained why the story was in the Bible when it wasn't (as far as I'm concerned) true, but still my son said he didn't think there was any point in learning something that isn't real or true. I gave him simplified versions of the arguments I offer below. I'm not sure he was entirely convinced, and I'm not sure I'm really convinced there is value in knowing lots of stories from a religion one doesn't believe in. I know that as a parent I have the choice of whether to withdraw him from religious education, but I am reluctant to do so, and I said that it is sometimes worthwhile learning things even if we don't believe them.

The arguments I make below are:
(a) It's interesting to learn stories even if we don't believe them
(b) It's useful to know the sorts of things other people believe

It's interesting

Part of our job as parents is to point out
what's real and what's not real.

I don't believe in fairies, pixies, unicorns, gods, or dragons, but sometimes it is interesting to know stories about these things. Stories about magic and impossible events can be exciting and marvellous. Reading about fictional beings, people and events can make for a great story. In fact, just about all of the best stories known to man are fictional, so fiction is obviously great.

God can seemingly do the impossible in the Bible, so that makes for a fun story. The Red Sea parting, turning water into wine, immaculate conceptions, man coming back from the dead, and indeed feeding 5000 people with two fish - these are fantastical stories which it can be fun to learn about.

That's what I told my son anyway.

But for my own part, I hated learning about religion in school: by age 7 or 8, I began to feel irritated and cheated when a story was presented to us as if it were fact, when I was pretty sure that it wasn't. For example, I recall being told several of Aesop's fables in this way, and I was particularly annoyed when we were told the story about How the Tiger got his Stripes. The teacher read it to us in assembly and prefixed it by saying it was a true story: upon hearing the title and that it was a true story, I remember being eager to find out why tigers have stripes, because I didn't know. And then when he told us the story - that the big cat had been tied to a tree and the ropes set on fire, and the black lines are where the ropes burnt into its fur - I felt cheated. He'd said it was true, but I knew it couldn't have been, because I realised that one tiger being burnt wouldn't make all tigers have stripes. And whenever we were told a religious story, I felt exactly the same: the teachers said it was fact, but I felt sure that it wasn't. (I went to a Church of England primary school, so there was plenty of religiosity each week - and my parents sent me to Sunday School for a couple of years, which was torturously dull.)

So I had sympathy for my son being annoyed at being told that Jesus had fed 5000 people with two fish and five loaves of bread, and he was insisting to me: "It's not possible to do that, so why did they say it was?" I felt for him, but I said that sometimes it's fun to learn a new story even when we know it's not real. I'm not sure whether I convinced him, but I didn't convince myself.

The difference between learning a Bible story and a story about dragons is that teachers don't suggest that the dragon stories are real. As a parent, I think that kids learning Bible stories is OK when it's prefixed by "There's a story which says that..." or even "Some people believe that..."  I think I would have been OK with that as a child, and I think my son would have been OK with hearing the Bible story had it been prefixed in such a way. My son - like me as a kid - is quite happy to hear stories about talking animals, goblins, wizards etc. so fiction isn't the problem; the problem comes when a story is presented as fact when it is entirely at odds with what seems plausible. So by all means tell kids the Bible stories, but suggesting that they are factual isn't reasonable.

It's useful

Now I argue that it's useful to know about religions that we don't believe in for three reasons:

1. To be sensitive to others' beliefs and live in harmony with those around us
2. For the sake of general knowledge
3. To help reinforce our own beliefs and know what we're arguing against

Firstly, we live in a diverse society in terms of religious beliefs: the 2011 census found that 59% of people in the UK identify as Christian, and 25% identify as no religion. We also have plenty of Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs and other religions, and in the spirit of living in harmony with others around us, it's useful to know some things about different religions. For example, it's useful to know that Muslims may fast during Ramadan (and when Ramadan falls in a given year), in order to be sensitive towards anyone who is fasting. Similarly, it's useful to know that Christians might give up something for Lent, or they might want a day of peace or prayer on Easter Sunday. Although I must note that it seems to me that far more than a quarter of UK residents (the atheist population) 'celebrate' Easter by purchasing chocolate eggs, and so perhaps some people who identify as Christian are less concerned about Jesus rising from the grave than they are about chocolate eggs rising in price. Nonetheless, it seems useful to know a thing or two about the religions of those around us, particularly in the case of people who actually practise their religion. Knowing about others' religions enables us to be respectful even if we disagree with their beliefs.

Secondly, in terms of general knowledge, it is useful to know different facts about religion in the same way that it's useful to know geography, history, literature, languages, artworks and so on. If one goes around thinking that Muslims routinely wear turbans or that Hindu women wear the hijab, one is ill-informed. Aside from being little use in a pub quiz, this kind of ignorance can fuel hatred and bigotry. I seem to recall that after the World Trade Center was attacked in 2001 by Muslim terrorists, there was a spate of violence against Sikhs! So we owe it to ourselves, if not others, to have some knowledge of different religious views.

Thirdly, as John Stuart Mill wrote in On Liberty, "He who knows only his side of the argument knows little of that" (ref: Chapter II, paragraph beginning 'If the intellect and judgment of mankind...') Mill is one of my all-time favourite philosophical authors, and I think he's spot on with many of the things he writes, and his stance on knowing both sides of argument is no exception. If we atheists wish to enter into a debate with theists, it helps to know what their beliefs actually are. In knowing them, we can strengthen our own arguments and reaffirm our own (lack of) faith. To be misinformed about a theory is not a reason to disbelieve it: we should find out about the theories that exist (whatever they are) and then we can make an informed choice about what we believe, and construct arguments to show why our beliefs are more plausible than others'.

Source: The Atheist Dose

A fourth possible usefulness of hearing Bible stories is one which Christians might suggest, but that I do not subscribe to: "it's useful for non-Christian children to hear Bible stories so that they can hear 'the truth' and then change their views accordingly and convert to Christianity". I think it's definitely useful for children (and adults) to hear a range of viewpoints, but whenever one shuns fact in favour of fantasy, nothing worthwhile has been achieved. But then, I suppose a Christian might make the same argument about someone abandoning Christianity in favour of atheism!

Conclusion 

So should my son have to sit through Bible stories? Well, I think that when told sparingly and prefixed by "Some people believe that..." then there is a definite benefit for him to hear such stories. When the Bible stories are presented as if they were facts, I can understand why he finds it irritating, as I myself did at the same age. No child should be told that unverified (and unverifiable) theories are facts.

In case you're wondering, I spoke to my son's teacher this morning and asked whether they'd be learning more about Jesus today and she said no, yesterday's story was just a one-off - so my son was happy to attend school today! I'm just glad I didn't send him to the Catholic school not far from our house!

Going to teach Year 4 philosophy

I’ve just been given the go-ahead by my son’s headteacher to go into the school and teach some philosophy to a year 4 group. I’m offering my services for free, partly for my own gain – to have the enjoyment of stimulating discussion with young minds and introducing them to big ideas – and partly for the gain of the kids / school – so that they can have the opportunity to learn something out of the ordinary, where ‘right answers’ aren’t always easy to come by. The headteacher is going to choose some of the highest achievers to be stretched and challenged by yours truly, so hopefully they'll be enthusiastic and attentive - we shall see!

Hands up if you couldn't be bothered
wearing school uniform today.

I took the headteacher through some possible topics we could cover – ethical, epistemological, metaphysical – and he seemed very enthusiastic. He said he’s willing to give me free rein with regard to topics, so that nothing should be shied away from, which is music to my ears. Religion, gender, reality, existence; it's all up for grabs. He did say that for the first few weeks, steer away from death until we’ve got the kids and parents on board with the whole thing, then by all means I can talk about death. Only then did I realise just how many thought experiments seem to involve death, violence or threats thereof!

Anyway, he asked me to begin with punishment (as a topic for discussion, not as something I inflict on the kids), so it’ll be interesting to see whether I can teach the philosophy of punishment without any reference to murder or capital punishment. I might go with a free will / determinism angle and discuss whether we should punish people before they commit crimes.

Anyway, I’m starting at the start of the summer term, and I’m pretty excited about it. I’ve not taught in nearly a year, and it’ll be great to get back to corrupting inspiring youngsters again.