Not everyone is a fan. Literary critic Harold Bloom, for instance, has been a vocal critic of the Potter series. He insists the series is “an endless string of clichés” that doesn’t do anyone any good. He adds, “That’s not ‘Wind in the Willows’; that’s not ‘Through the Looking Glass’… . It’s really just slop.” He’s convinced that the Potter books won’t lead children on to Kipling, Thurber, or Carroll, and that the whirligig of time will erase this fleeting fashion.
Rowling is no Shakespeare, nor has she ever claimed to be. But as Mark Twain once said of his own books, they’re less wine than water, before adding this: “Everyone drinks water.” British philosopher Bertrand Russell once claimed that, given the general silliness of mankind, a view’s popularity is sure evidence of its falsehood. Clearly Russell overstated the case. Something’s popularity is decisive evidence of neither its truth nor falsehood, neither its value nor worthlessness. Potter’s popularity is good evidence, however, that it has struck a chord of some sort. Good timing, fortuitous circumstances, and aggressive advertising probably had something to do with it, but there’s also something unmistakably compelling—bordering on magical—about the books. The Potter movie franchise has been attempting to capture that magic on the screen. Prisoner of Azkaban hit the big screen in the summer of 2004, with four more still to follow. The first five books have sold hundreds of millions of copies worldwide in sixty-one languages (so far!), and the first two Potter movies are among the all-time top twenty-five highest grossing movies.
Philosophers, both Muggles and non-Muggles, love Harry, which is more fitting than one might imagine. When the first Potter book was published in the United States, the subtitle The Philosopher’s Stone was changed to The Sorcerer’s Stone. The rationale for this change was that Americans would be put off by reference to philosophy. Philosophy, it was thought, evokes esoteric and daunting images of the ivory tower. This may have been a miscalculation.
“Philosophy begins in wonder,” Plato said. The mystery and marvel of it all is rarely lost on a child. Youngsters don’t need to be taught philosophical curiosity. It just comes naturally. Nearly as soon as we learn to talk, the world and its mysteries enchant our imagination. Who am I? Why are we here? Who made God? Does the refrigerator light really go off when we close the door? Kids are born philosophers. Usually only the concerted efforts of adults—understandably exasperated at answering “Why?”—can stifle children’s passion to understand.
No piece of popular literature has done more in recent years to remind us of what it’s like to be a kid than the Harry Potter series. No books have done more in recent years to spread and spark interest in philosophy than Open Court’s popular culture and philosophy series. In the spirit of both series, our book issues an invitation to recapture the sense of wonder that comes so naturally to children, the wonder with which philosophy begins.
More and more kids and adults of all ages are beginning to learn that there is nothing wrong with the insatiable curiosity of childhood. To the contrary, asking the big, and sometimes small, questions of philosophy is part of being human and one of the joys of life. Philosophy invites us to revisit our childhood by indulging our wide-eyed wonder, only this time with the tools required for answering some of those age-old questions—not crystal balls and Marauder’s Maps, but solid reasoning and thought experiments. As the Potter books have reminded us of what it’s like to be kids, we hope this book rekindles the child-like fascination that fuels the philosophical quest.
Rowling’s novels are obviously not written as philosophical treatises, yet they are rife with philosophical significance. They are not only interesting and well-told stories, but thoroughly engaging emotionally, imaginatively, and intellectually. This makes them a useful roadmap for navigating readers through one terrain of philosophical landscape after another.
What philosophically literate reader doesn’t hear an echo of Nietzsche in Voldemort’s words that there is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to use it? Or imagine that, if Aristotle ran Hogwarts, he’d act a lot like Dumbledore? Or see the parallel between Harry’s invisibility cloak and Plato’s Ring of Gyges? We’ll focus on some of the most interesting issues, and leave others for readers to consider on their own. It wouldn’t be Hogwarts without homework, now would it?
Our contributors, all ardent Potter fans and philosophers with formidable magical powers, represent a diversity of philosophical viewpoints. They have produced a range of essays rich with popular appeal, cultural significance, and penetrating insight. You don’t always have to agree with them. Once you start intelligently expressing disagreement, in fact, you’re well on your way to being a philosopher. Sometimes we’ll raise more questions than we answer. We’re simply here to help you think about the issues and, if need be, to teach you some chants and spells so you can make some magic of your own.
This book, like Hogwarts, is divided into four sections, or houses. You are probably already familiar with famous Gryffindor, inhabited by Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Since the book begins by discussing some of the main characters, like that trio, along with Hagrid and the Dursleys, we called this first section “Gryffindor.”
Our Headmaster, Tom Morris, public philosopher extraordinaire , gets us started by exploring the virtue of courage that Harry displays and Gryffindor represents throughout the books, offering us an inspirational formula for success in the process. Tom so enjoyed thinking about Harry that he decided to write a whole book about him! Be sure to watch for his Harry Potter and the Meaning of Life when it comes out, required reading for your continued studies. You can’t pass your N.E.W.T. without it.
Deputy Headmistress Diana Hsieh discusses the dastardly Dursleys, with whom Harry spent the first eleven years of his life. In particular she discusses the sort of self-deception in which the Dursleys willfully engage when it comes to the magical world. Former Hogwarts valedictorian Harald Thorsrud uses examples such as Voldemort and his minions, Draco Malfoy and cronies Crabbe and Goyle, and Hagrid and Harry to contrast good and bad friendships, a discussion informed by Aristotle’s insights on the subject. Finally, Mimi Gladstein, who’s broken more school rules than Harry and Ron combined, discusses various women of the wizard world, including Hermione, Doloros Umbridge, Rita Skeeter, and Professor McGonagall. It’s amazing how Rowling’s fictional world represents the sort of gender equality of which classical feminism can be proud and to which, at its best, it aspires. And there’s no magic required!
Hufflepuff is known for being just, which helps compensate for its Quidditch record. Since the second section of our book discusses morality, we thought it appropriate to name it after this house, filled with those who are, in addition to just, also true, loyal, and hardworking. Supreme Mugwump Jerry Walls discusses Harry as a springboard to understanding morality, the power of sacrifice, and the meaning of life, echoing philosophical themes from and sharing insights with Jean-Paul Sartre, Immanuel Kant, and William James. (Jerry also likes to sneak up behind school administrators, grab their nose, and screech, “GOT YOUR CONK!”) Former Quidditch co-captains Ben Lipscomb and Chris Stewart collaborate to ponder the ethical parallel between the use of magic in Harry’s world and technologies in ours. Famed Hufflepuff Seeker Shawn Klein explores the strange, wonderful, and terrible Mirror of Erised, both its ethical and epistemological implications, while drawing on such philosophical luminaries as René Descartes and Robert Nozick. Finally, taking Immanuel Kant as his guide, Steve Patterson discusses issues and instances of discrimination in the Potter books, focusing on Hermione’s Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (S.P.E.W.).
Since the house of Slytherin darkens both the hallways of Hogwarts and the pages of Rowling’s books, we devote an entire section of our book to evil, its nature, origins, and effects. Our eager Head Boy, Steve Patterson, receives a second assignment, explaining why a house like Slytherin is even part of Hogwarts in the first place. Enlisting the assistance of Aristotle, he carefully explains how ambition, rightly c
onstrued and properly pursued, can be a virtue. Dave and Cathy Deavel, still learning how to bottle glory and brew fame, explore evil’s causes. Jennifer Weed, who denies inviting us all to find our own inner Voldemort just for fun, skillfully explains evil’s effects. Augustine, Boethius, and Nietzsche are all brought in to help us along the way. Potions instructor Dave Baggett assesses accusations by disgruntled Muggles that the Potter books are morally and spiritually harmful, especially to kids, because they blur lines between good and evil and promote ethical egoism and subjectivism. This hardly exhausts the philosophical questions to consider and insights we could have brought to bear in discussing this dark and important issue, but to avoid this book from becoming as long as Order of the Phoenix, we thought it best to move on.
In our final section we explore metaphysics, not always the easiest branch of philosophy to ponder, but always engaging. Metaphysics addresses the question: What is real? So we dub this section “Ravenclaw,” the house filled with those of ready mind, wit, and learning, all of which are needed to grasp metaphysics. J.K. Rowling has said that, if she received an invitation to Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat would probably put her into Ravenclaw, and we’re inclined to agree. Distinguished Hogwarts alumnus Gareth Matthews, who has written numerous books on philosophy and children, raises a number of metaphysical questions that the Potter books invite us to consider. What is the real nature of time, space, and identity? Michael Silberstein, who often receives samples of “Norwegian fertilizer” from his students, discusses in more detail issues of time and space, asking and answering such questions as how time travel or travel by Floo powder or Apparition might be possible. Prefect Jason Eberl takes us on a journey to explore issues of personal identity in Potter: How is it possible for Harry or anyone else to be the same person as time passes? Greg Bassham, who rides a hippogriff to work because broomsticks are so last century, rounds out our treatment of metaphysics by ensnaring readers with questions of freedom, fate, and foreknowledge raised by Sibyll Trelawney and the other seers populating Harry’s world.
For fans of both Potter and philosophy, we hope this book presents a happy convergence of worlds. For fans of one or the other only, we hope this book deepens your interest, either by enabling you to see applications of philosophical analysis to popular culture, or by stretching your interest in Potter into the world of philosophy. We even hope to reach some who, until now, have not been particularly interested in either Potter or philosophy, by enabling them to see the fun and value in each.
The philosopher G.W.F. Hegel said “the Owl of Minerva flies only at dusk,” but you’re in luck. Your owl has just arrived. Consider this your personal invitation to Hogwarts for Muggles, where you too can learn the magic of philosophy and experience its allure, while recapturing what was best about being a kid. Unless you want a Howler, don’t delay making your way into the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast. The other students are already there, your professors have taken their seats, and the Sorting Hat is about to sing.
Gryffindor
The Characters of Harry’s World
1
The Courageous Harry Potter
TOM MORRIS
Harry Potter is certainly one of the most popular characters in the world. And he’s using that popularity to teach us all some lessons about what’s really needed for a good life. That’s just the sort of wizard he is.
We’re going to examine what may be Harry’s single most striking quality. It’s a personal characteristic much admired by the ancients. And we can learn a great deal about it by looking carefully at some of this young man’s exploits during his first five years at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Magic and Virtue
The most salient feature of the J.K. Rowling novels about Harry Potter may well be their engaging portrayal of a world of magic existing distinct from, yet intermingled with our regular, or Muggle, world. But, however important magic might be to the vivid story-telling of the books, it is merely incidental to their philosophy. Most of us on occasion have heard other people say things like, “I wish I could just magically solve all my problems,” or, “I’ll try my best to deal with this problem, but remember, I’m no magician.”
By looking at Hogwarts and its world, we can see that these common sentiments reflect a misunderstanding. Harry’s daily reality is a world full of magic, and yet the people within it have loads of challenging problems just like folks in our world— except, they may have even more. And their problems are rarely solved merely by the use of magic, but rather by intelligence, planning, courage, determination, persistence, resourcefulness, fidelity, friendliness, and many other qualities traditionally known by the great philosophers as virtues. Magic for them is a tool, among many other problem-solving tools. But tools have to be used by people, and it’s ultimately the character of the person using such a tool that determines how effectively it can be employed to deal with any difficulty. Rowling’s aim in the Harry Potter books is not at all to convey to her many readers the importance of magic in the lives of her characters, but rather to display the magical importance of the classic virtues in their lives, and in any life.
The Virtues at Hogwarts
Hogwarts is a residential school. The original founders of the four student houses there valued different virtues, and wanted their respective residence halls to celebrate and encourage their favorite. Gryffindor House was founded for “the bravest,” Ravenclaw, for “the cleverest,” Hufflepuff, for “hard workers,” and Slytherin, for those with “great ambition” (GF, p. 17). A student can of course be well endowed with more than one of these qualities, but it was the intent of the founders of these houses to give each student a place for the development of whatever might be his or her greatest strength or most distinctive quality.
When Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger arrive for their first day at school, each of them is assigned magically to Dumbledore’s old house Gryffindor—the home of the brave. Harry seems to have it all—intelligence, diligence, and ambition. But he is put in the one house founded to recognize and support courage. And that’s very interesting indeed, since the young Harry is a boy who experiences about as much fear as it’s possible for someone his age to feel. In fact, Rowling goes out of her way to represent, in as vivid a manner as she can, Harry’s visceral experience of the negative emotions and sensations centering on fear.
Feelings of Fear
Throughout the first five books, Rowling describes the emotions of all her main characters other than Harry from the outside, in terms of their overt behavior and other bodily displays. Only Harry’s feelings are characterized from the inside, as if Rowling wants us to appreciate as vividly as possible what Harry goes through when confronted with great danger or even tremendous uncertainty. Let’s glance at a few sample passages where the fear of other characters is portrayed:
Gilderoy Lockhart’s knees had given way. (CS, p. 303)
Ron opened his mouth in horror. (CS, p. 331)
Crabbe and Goyle were looking scared. (PA, p. 280)
But when it comes to Harry, fear and all associated emotions are described powerfully from the inside. Like many of us, Harry often feels fear in his mid-section. Consider these statements:
His stomach lurched. (CS, p. 138)
Harry’s stomach turned over … (PA, p. 281)
His insides were squirming. (OP, p. 122)
Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. (SS, p. 212)
Sometimes, our young wizard-in-training experiences fear a bit higher, in his heart:
Harry’s heart gave a horrible jolt. (SS, p. 115)
Harry stopped dead, his heart banging against his ribs. (PA, p. 256)
It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry’s heart. (SS, p. 259)
Occasionally, he faces danger beset with a sensation of numbness or paralysis:
Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead … (SS, p. 116)
Harry’s whole body went
numb. (CS, p. 80)
And as if this were not enough, there are a great many other manifestations of fear in Harry’s body and mind as well:
His mouth was very dry now. (OP, p. 778)
Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. (CS, p. 314)
Inside his head, all was icy and numb. (OP, p. 27)
Dozens more examples could be given. At a certain point, it can seem as if we’re confronted with an equivalent of The Cowardly Lion (from another famous wizard context), or perhaps The Cowardly Lion Cub. Harry is certainly not someone insensible to danger, to put it very mildly. He recognizes it wherever it is and feels it deeply. Yet, he somehow always manages to overcome these visceral sensations, despite their strength, and embody the virtue of courage to the point of standing up to the greatest of adversaries, saving the day, and earning the accolades of people all around him. As little Dobby the house-elf exclaims:
Harry Potter and Philosophy: If Aristotle Ran Hogwarts Page 2
