Exhibition: Philosophy in the Open

Some programmes in this archive were aimed squarely at Open University (OU) students on the relevant module, not at posterity. In these, members of the OU’s Philosophy Department appear not as interviewers but as philosophy teachers. The OU’s motto was, and is, Open to People, Places, Methods and Ideas, but the institution has evolved beyond recognition on all four counts, hopefully for the better. Still, if one looks beyond their more obvious failings, these programmes contain some real insights into the philosophical lay of the land; they are in any case fascinating historical documents, and not only for the sideburns, hairdos, clothes, the formality of address.* 

The first two videos on this page, on perception and action, work as a pair. They were not intended to teach philosophical content. That was done in the printed material on Descartes' philosophy, which the vides were designed to support. Their stated purpose is to help students see what a philosophical discussion looks like, perhaps so students would know what to expect in face-to-face seminars. The pace is glacial by today’s standards, yet they capture something of the spirit of a real-life first philosophy seminar. The students are hesitant at the start but gradually become more spirited. Godfrey Vesey, the presenter, also relaxes as the programmes continue. At first the programmes resemble not so much a philosophical discussion as the cross between a magic show and An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump. By the end, Vesey is in his Socratic element, nudging students in directions they don’t want to go. “I wouldn’t agree at all” announces Miss Davey to Professor Vesey towards the end of the second video, before stating her reasons. And in that same video (at 03’24”) Vesey does something with his elbow that every philosopher of mind should incorporate into their teaching.

Vesey’s avoidance of jargon is remarkable. Whether this is out of a desire to meet the students where they are, or from a latent commitment to ordinary language philosophy, it is the students, not him, who introduce terms like ‘mental directives’ and ‘programming’ (this, remember, is 1971). This approach is refreshing, though television viewers may have wondered what the fuss was about. One can discern the background debates – direct and indirect perceptual realism (first video) and, an application of Ryle’s knowing-how/knowing-that distinction (second video) – only if one knows something of them already.

Susan Wilson (better known as Susan Khin Zaw) attempts this same informal approach in the third video, but her cheerful assertion that “there isn’t anything technical … about this” sounds like a hope rather than a belief. She says it in the middle of clarifying the link between proof-theoretic and semantic conceptions of logical operators. Given that this sat within a first-year general introduction to the humanities, it is hard to know what students made of it. Many logic teachers will be familiar with the “logic can be fun” desperation of the accompanying animations. (Continued on next page). 

* For non-UK readers: the out-of-style clothing on display in late-night Open University broadcasts on BBC2 became a popular cliché. The videos, and the teaching modules they supported, were expensive to make and so had to last longer than a fashion cycle.