I argue that it can sometimes be good to do philosophy badly and that this has important implications for our classroom practices. It is better to engage in philosophy in a mediocre way than to not engage with it at all, and this should influence what learning goals we adopt and how we assess students. Furthermore, being open to doing and teaching philosophy imperfectly is necessary for fighting against rampant prestige bias and perfectionism in our discipline and our classrooms; if we are to expand the canon and diversify our curricula, we must be willing to risk doing mediocre work ourselves and willing to support our students in doing the same. I conclude that we should sometimes be guided in our teaching by an alternative standard of philosophical excellence that is focused not on the quality of the work produced, but on the joy, creativity, and collaboration involved in the process.

In this essay, I sketch a preliminary account of philosophical curiosity. Drawing on philosophy of curiosity, philosophy of education, and philosophical pedagogy, I argue first that philosophical curiosity is a set of investigative practices and affects that engage philosophical content and philosophical skills. Turning to critical pedagogy and meta-philosophy, especially via Paulo Freire and Kristie Dotson, I then supplement the preliminary account by arguing that philosophical curiosity is also rooted in existential exploration and communal inquiry. I argue for the necessity of this supplement by showing that, in failing to account for what and who philosophical curiosity is for, we risk excluding diverse practitioners and phenomena from the philosophical enterprise. I then evaluate two pedagogical exercises in philosophical curiosity—the Freedom Schools’ citizenship curriculum and Melissa Shew’s Curiosity Project—in light of this account. I close by considering some objections and implications.

Philosophers unknowingly subscribe to two competing conceptions of philosophy. On the inclusive conception, teaching philosophy provides a valuable social good that should be distributed as much as possible. On the traditionalist conception, certain materials and techniques constitute the way philosophy should be taught, which must be conserved. Unfortunately, the traditionalist conception clings to methods that have repeatedly produced an elitist, hierarchal version of philosophy that inhibits diverse engagement. Given the value of philosophy, philosophers have a duty to distribute philosophy to a greater number of people, which requires embracing the inclusive conception. Acting towards this duty can be done by working beyond the classroom, spreading philosophy through service, and improving our teaching both to reach a more diverse audience and to follow pedagogical research, such as with experiential learning techniques. Philosophers should also ensure that the duty’s burden falls more on privileged philosophers who can take on the necessary sacrifices.

This paper explores the tensions that arise when one considers the relevance of institutionalized philosophy to social, political, and environmental change. It considers the time it takes to think deeply, critically, creatively, against the urgent need for protest in the streets, for persuasion of our political representatives, for profound alterations to what we consume. Since philosophy in the academy can reek of disproportionate privilege and self-protection and norms that govern institutionalized philosophy often drive away some of the most curious minds and diverse perspectives, this paper considers: if our philosophical work does not help in substantial ways to address social, political, and environmental crises, can we, in good conscience, continue it? To think through this question, this paper will share a video-based assignment on “activism” that helps me, and hopefully students in my classes, navigate, but not resolve, this tension.

In this paper, I outline various pedagogical practices that I believe are important for diversifying the field of philosophy. I outline these practices through a discussion of knowledge and its production, the production of relations through collective acts, the creation of space in and beyond the institution, and finally moving beyond inclusion narratives. The various pedagogical practices that I outline have been developed in, and drawn from, a workshop titled the Feminist Decolonial Politics Workshop. Ultimately, in this paper I utilize what I call a “tenderness approach to philosophy”—tenderness as devotion of time and concentration, as directional, relational, and embodied—in order to demonstrate how tenderness can be applied to a pedagogical context.