Dr. Robert Money
Associate Professor of Philosophy
 Academic Biography
Dr. Robert Money obtained his B.A. degree from Furman University in 1990, where he double majored in philosophy and political science. He obtained his J.D. from Emory University School of Law (1993) and is an inactive member of the Georgia State Bar Association. He obtained his Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Iowa (1999). He came to Millikin University in 1999 as an Assistant Professor of Philosophy and he has taught here ever since. He was tenured in 2005 and is currently an Associate Professor of Philosophy.
Teaching Interests
Dr. Money’s primary teaching interests are in ethical theory and the history of ethics, political-legal philosophy, philosophy of religion, the modern and contemporary periods of philosophy, and the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche. In addition to his many course offerings in philosophy, Dr. Money teaches courses for the honors program, including the first-year university seminar and the first year/second year honors seminar in humanities. Finally, Dr. Money teaches select courses for the political science department (constitutional law) and is faculty advisor for Millikin’s moot court teams.
Teaching Expertise
Dr. Money excels in engaging students by employment of the “Socratic method” and the employment of a discussion-driven format. Dr. Money also has a very strong record of curricular development. Finally, Dr. Money has excelled in finding ways to integrate his disciplinary teaching interests into the wider university curriculum.
Select Teaching Awards
Dr. Money is recognized as a highly energized, engaging and demanding teacher. He has received numerous awards for his teaching, including the Alpha Lambda Delta Teacher of the Year award (2001), the James Millikin Scholar Educator of the Year award (2007), and the Teaching Excellence Award (2007).
Teaching Philosophy
What is the goal of my teaching? The spirit of my discipline demands an obvious reply: “Why, the development of critical thinking skills in your students, of course.” This reply would not be inaccurate. What such a reply leaves unsaid, however, is more to the point. I am not sure how much elucidation can be provided. Nevertheless, I believe a central part of what I seek to do in my teaching is captured by the widely employed, but rather vaguely understood term, ‘transformation.’ If I am successful in what I do, the person who enters my classroom at the beginning of the semester will not be the person who leaves it at the end of the semester.
My teaching, then, is about student transformation. This initial answer, however, is inadequate. We still do not know to what end the transformational process is to be geared. Transform students in what senses? The following philosophical aphorisms and/or quotations seem to me to form a snapshot picture of the sort of transformation I seek to engender. I include a brief comment on each.
“The unexamined life is not worth living.” (Socrates)
I remain firmly committed to this Socratic truth. In fact, this is the fundamental axiological presupposition of my teaching. Were I to reject it, I would reject the value of teaching. In my teaching, I seek to make a contribution to the transformation of students into critically aware and critically self-aware thinkers, capable of examining and evaluating their own lives, the lives of others, and the world around them.
One important point to make is that Socrates does not say the unexamined life is unhappy or unpleasant. Rather, the unexamined life is not worth living. Similarly, there is no guarantee that the examined life will be happy or pleasant. In fact, the examined life may well be disturbing on a number of levels. Nevertheless, it will be a life worth living.
A second important point to make is that if Socrates is correct, then the belief that teaching is a value-free enterprise is a non-starter. Teaching seeks to encourage the development of certain traits of mind and character. To teach, then, is to already be involved in an ethical undertaking.
“I cannot teach anybody anything; I can only make them think.” (Socrates)
In my view, this statement reveals a fundamental truth about philosophical activity: the aim of philosophical activity is not learning what to think, but learning how to think. Moreover, my discipline’s focus on how to think is the source of the practical value of philosophical activity.
There is a widespread view of philosophy as a purely theoretical and purely speculative type of study, with no practical relevance whatsoever. “The thinker,” the figure who seems deep in thought but who is apparently doing nothing, perhaps best represents this image. I contend that this view is a serious mischaracterization of philosophical study. From the very first day of class, I make students aware that we will not be spending our time in purely detached speculation and contemplation. Rather, I seek to impress upon students the fact that philosophical study is a kind of activity, a kind of doing. As such, it is practical in what I believe to be the most important sense – encouraging the development and growth of skill sets that are essential to any occupation or vocation, any attempt to engage in democratic citizenship in a global environment, and any attempt to live a personal life of meaning and value. These skill sets include:
- The ability to think critically and logically.
- The ability to comprehend dense and difficult readings, following and assessing the arguments and claims made in them.
- The ability to convey ideas clearly and creatively in both written and oral form.
These skill sets are always practical. In any field of inquiry or vocation, students will have to problem solve, think critically, assess arguments or strategies, communicate clearly, spot unspoken assumptions that may be driving a certain position, etc. Since philosophy encourages the development and growth of the skill sets that are essential to doing any of these things well, philosophical study is inherently practical.
My teaching seeks to make a contribution to transforming students into better thinkers and, in the process, better workers, better citizens and better people.
“Many people would sooner die than think. In fact, they do.”
(Bertrand Russell)
Given the above comments, I view this as a tragedy. My teaching seeks to make a contribution – however small – toward minimizing the scope of this tragedy.
“A very popular error: having the courage of one’s convictions; rather it is a matter of having the courage for an attack on one’s convictions.” (Nietzsche)
I am firmly committed to the critical nature of philosophical inquiry and activity. In my teaching, I force students to think about their own personal convictions. I force students to identify what they believe and, more importantly, why they believe what they believe. Moreover, by forcing them to read works that challenge (or even assault) their convictions, I force them to consider whether the reasons that they give in support of their convictions are true, valid, or compelling.
This can be a very destructive process. In the face of philosophical analysis and reflection, some students find their convictions to be untenable. This can lead, in turn, to a crisis in identity. While I am sensitive to this fact, it is my view that this sort of destruction is the unavoidable consequence of serious philosophical teaching. Ignorance may well be bliss, and the passive and unquestioned acceptance of convention may well yield comfort, but neither will produce a life worth living.
My teaching seeks to provide students with a place where this sort of destruction can be creative and, in the process, courage exemplified. To challenge convention and to challenge one’s own self-identity take courage. It takes courage to be willing to grow intellectually. It takes courage to live a life worth living.
“Are you a god?” they asked. “No.” An angel?” “No.” “A saint?” “No.” “Then what are you?” The Buddha answered, “I am awake.”
I suspect all teachers have confronted the intellectual lethargy and intellectual apathy that afflict many students. This is a sort of sleep. By forcing students to think critically about their own convictions and about the world around them, I seek to wake them up.
“The aspects of things that are most important for us are hidden because of their simplicity and familiarity. The real foundations of his enquiry do not strike a man at all. Unless that fact has at some time struck him. –And this means: we fail to be struck by what, once seen, is most striking and most powerful.” (Wittgenstein)
Once “awakened,” students can see philosophy all around them – in movies, in literature, in politics, and in average ordinary everyday experiences. My teaching seeks to enable students to spot better the transcendent, the puzzling, the marvelous or the wonderful in the everyday.
Favorite Approaches to Teaching
Often, my engagement with students takes the form of a highly rigorous application of the “Socratic method” in which I ask targeted questions and elicit answers from the students. We then jointly reflect on those answers—refining them, revising them, or simply abandoning them.
Other times, my engagement with students takes the form of a massive discharge of thought—a highly animated soliloquy of sorts. Typically, this includes the use of a series of vivid and, where appropriate, humorous hypothetical examples designed to capture the imagination of the students and, thereby, root them in the issue. Often, the issues discussed are not only controversial, but issues that strike at the heart of a student’s identity (e.g., Does God exist? Is it reasonable to believe in miracles? Is homosexual sex immoral? If you knew you would not be punished, would you act immorally or illegally?). I have found the use of humor to be an effective way to introduce students to these sorts of issues in a non-threatening way. Once the students are introduced and rooted in the issue, we spend the remainder of class time seeking our way about the issue, striking out in a variety of directions in our efforts to understand better the issue at hand. The aim is not to “get out” of the issue or locate the “final solution” to the philosophical problem at hand; rather, the aim is to wander (and wonder) about the issue—taking notice of its contours, its conceptual space, and its significance or meaning.
Still other times, my engagement with students takes the form of simply soliciting (or on rare occasions appointing) a “student guide.” I encourage students to formulate in their own words the basic themes of the reading, a particular argument in the reading, various implications of the reading, etc. Perhaps I open class with something like, “So, what’s going on here?” |
