My input, with University of London BA and also with ISFP Fellowship students, is to raise the quality of your work as a philosopher. By temperament, I am a trainer rather than a teacher. I am a sounding board and source of informed feedback. I would say that I am not an 'expert' in any area of philosophy, not even metaphysics, a topic on which I wrote my book. The nitty gritty details of current academic debates bore me. But I work very hard for my students, and also in pursuit of my own philosophic aims.This might seem somewhat of a digression from the line of investigation I have been following well, more like meandering loops than a line. But tomorrow I face the music: I'm going down to London to meet the people responsible for running the London University International Programme for the Diploma and BA (Hons) in Philosophy.
How much can I really explain to them about the way I work? (I have to assume there's an outside chance that someone will read this.) It's all about me, and my search for... for want of a better word, enlightenment. I satisfy my appetite for the printed word with the essays my students send me. I regard my students as my partners in dialogue. Their work is published alongside mine in Ask a Philosopher; from reading the answers, you couldn't tell who was the 'student' and who was the 'teacher'. I don't tell my students what to read, they tell me what they've read and the information is filed away for future use.
I try to set an example. Yet the last thing I would want is for my students to imitate me. They have to do the wearisome legwork that I refuse to do. So we're hardly 'equals' then. I'm talking about the integrity of the seeker. But what about the system that enables me to work this way? I don't have any views on that. I work in parallel with the world of academic philosophy, each set on our own independent course. You take the high road and I'll take the low road. Who's to say who will reach their destination first? (if at all).
I don't know about you, but I am trying to understand the world. That thing out there that teases me, entices me, threatens me, supports me, eludes me. I don't know how else to do this than by following Socrates' advice: getting to know myself better. Yesterday, I took one more step. I found my motto, at last. At 60, a decent age. Don't weary me, because I have a long way to go and I'm travelling light. How this will help, I do not yet know.