Philosophy With Guts - Article Reprinted - Volume 20 - Number 2 - 1985

Oct 15, 2026

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Western philosophy is often framed as a split between feeling and thought, affect and cognition. This article argues that a robust philosophy—metaphorically “with guts”—uses both elements, since motivation generates ideas and action tests them in practice. Drawing on John Dewey, poets, and other writers, it links this view to educational implications, challenging curricular and political habits that treat emotion as competing or separate from rational work.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryLiterature

FormatPDF

Pages8

Reading Time12 min

AccessFree to download

Abstract

Philosophy With Guts: Meaning and Purpose

Dewey and the Separation Problem in Education

Redundancy, Semantic Noise, and Repetition

Origins and Persistence: From Plato to Modern Curricula

Classroom Implications and Practical Repair

| | Philosophy With Guts* | | --- | --- | Robert R. Sherman, University of Florida—Emeritus Abstract Western philosophy, from Plato on, has had the tendency to separate feeling and thought, affect and cognition. This article argues that a strong philosophy (metaphorically, with“guts”) utilizes both in its work. Infact, a “complete act of thought” also will include action. Feeling motivates thought, which formulates ideas, that action tests in practice. This idea of philosophy draws on insights from John Dewey and several poets and other writers. Some implications are drawn for education. Keywords: Emotions, affect, cognition, Dewey I like to use a good quote, so I will repeat what an ancient philosopher once said: that the point of an exposition should be clear at the beginning and the presentation should be simple and dignified. That means that I should explain the point of my title. The title—“Philosophy With Guts”—has a double, and colloquial, meaning. My intent is to show that philosophy—which is reflection or rationality—involves feelings or emotions, or what is crudely and metaphorically called “the guts.” Secondly, a philosophy that takes account of feeling is more substantial, more robust, and thus it “has guts.” Some of my colleagues may think I am redundant. They have heard me say these things before, most recently at a departmental gathering with faculty and students. I was asked to talk about John Dewey’s philosophy, but instead of being didactic about his work, I decided to use him to buttress my own views about a vexing problem in education. That problem is the tendency we have to separate feeling and thought. Dewey strikes a good response in me. (I am aware that he strikes an opposite response in others.) His observations “fit” my own experiences; what he says “makes sense.” So I will continue to use him. Seneca used to say that whatever is well said becomes my own. Rudolf Flesch, in his book How to Make Sense, 1 believes that redundancy is useful in getting through “semantic noise,” or all the circumstances that get in the way of understanding. In other words, some things bear repeating. A protest against the separation of feeling and thought is one of them. Philosophers have argued against the separation, but it continues. The tendency to * This article is reprinted here by gracious permission of the editorial board of the Journal of Thought. Its original publication was in Volume 20, Number 2 (1985), pp. 3-11. 1. Rudolf Flesch, How To Make Sense (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1954), Chapter 7. separate feeling and thought perhaps is well enough known that it need not be sketched hereagain. Its origin—and persistence—has been traced to Plato. The tendency really is to tripolarize, rather than bi-polarize, to separate feeling, and thought, and action.2 My focus is on the rupture between feeling and thought, but repair has implications for action as well. The tendency to separate feeling and thought is more widespread than only in education. The conception seems to be ingrained in philosophy. In 1938, when travelling in Europe, Irwin Edman recorded that an English friend explained that “there are two unpardonable sins at Oxford [University], one is to be seen working, the other is to be enthusiastic.”3 Things have not changed much in forty years. When studying Thomas Green’s The Activities of Teaching,4 a student in philosophy of education class recently suggested that the “logical” acts of teaching—e.g., explaining, giving reasons, demonstrating—are cognitive in nature, and the “strategic” acts of teaching—e.g., motivating, encouraging, disciplining—are affective. As if feeling is not part of explaining, and thought is not part of motivating and disciplining. But of all places, we ought to counteract in philosophy and education this separation of feeling and thought. Instead, we continue to act as if feeling and thought were different, and competing, and more or less worthy realities or

FAQs

What does the title “Philosophy With Guts” mean in the article?

It has a double, colloquial meaning: philosophy involves emotions or “guts,” and a philosophy that takes feeling into account is more robust—“has guts.”

How does the article describe the common philosophical separation between feeling and thought?

It argues that philosophy tends to separate affect and cognition, treating feeling and thought as different, competing, and unequally valuable ways of knowing, which is reflected in curricula and academic politics.

What educational implications does the article draw from connecting feeling and thought?

It suggests moving from merely “bridging the gap” toward practical applications—understanding student interest or motivation, discipline as effort, values, and the relation between theory and practice.

Oct 15, 2026

Upload by jayni