I’ve studied philosophy at the university level for almost three years now.

I didn’t want to at first. I threw myself at something I felt was much more important at the time – international affairs (yawn). Philosophy was cool, but it could wait. I could always read Aristotle or Nietzsche any time I wanted and understand it to an extent. It was just an interest, something on the side.

But as many usually do, I started to fall in love with this side thing. I started to read more. I started to spend more time studying philosophy than I did my actual degree.

Days later, while still enrolled in an international affairs curriculum, I switched my major to philosophy.

Almost three years into my degree and yet I still think about why I chose philosophy. In a culture so hyper-focused on the monetary value of an education, philosophy is clearly not the best decision*.

I’ve been told by my parents, recruiters, and employers alike that philosophy wouldn’t be tragic, however. All I would need to do is focus on the critical thinking, the logical aspect of the degree and practically any company in corporate America would hire me. Because that’s the end goal of any college degree, right?

Yet what they didn’t tell me was that in order to reach that stage, I would be met with pages upon pages of dense, almost incomprehensible texts (see here, here, and here for my favorite examples). I would have to read the same book inside and out, and then over again in order to even get a sense of what it was trying to say.

It was rough. Not only did I not understand what they were saying, but I couldn’t put together why they were even trying to say it. I couldn’t wrap my brain around why it could take someone so many words to say something that could be said in an email or, more realistically, in a simple paragraph.

Two years after this epiphany in academia, I came to work for Brass Check, where I did the opposite of what I did in school. We read books, we found quotes that we liked from them, and then we put them on social media or wrote about them in a straightforward manner for people to take at face value.

Still, it couldn't have been more complex to me. I couldn’t possibly understand, after all my years of training, how someone could take such an influential text and narrow it down to a one-liner for an Instagram post.

I was confused. In a way, it negated the need for the book in the first place, and subsequently destroyed the need for the context in which the book was written. Take this quote from Zoran Perkov, former CEO of Long Term Stock Exchange: “People think that complex is a state of complicated. It’s not. A car key is simple. A car is complicated. A car in traffic is complex.” The text itself was supposed to represent the car in traffic. If you take it out of its context, if you separate every sentence from the one preceding it, then its meaning is no longer significant – it’s unnecessarily complex.

Clearly, I must have been alone in feeling this way. Our work was extremely popular. Philosophy became trendy, in a way, and social media pages boosting philosophical quotes and tenets boomed.

I couldn’t get past the fact that people were proclaiming to be stewards of their respective philosophies after simply following a page on social media. After liking a post or two and then displaying them on their stories as if to proclaim that they’ve finally understood its message.

I surely wasn’t alone in feeling this way, however. It’s a sentiment that dates all the way back to Aristotle, and his famous “one swallow does not make a summer.” One line does not make a philosopher. Nor does it make someone who automatically understands or truly applies the concepts they preach.

I’ve reflected on this dilemma philosophy for my entire philosophical career. And throughout that whole career, my main concern has always been making philosophy, a strict academic discipline, accessible to everybody. Academia, for all of its rigor and tenets, is often not very applicable outside of academia*. And with philosophy, keeping it restrained to such a narrow audience seems to go against its fundamental values. Socrates said that “not life, but good life, is to be chiefly valued,” and the only way to get at this good life was through wisdom*, through the pursuit of knowledge – through philosophy.

The obvious answer to this issue is through social media. To use social media in a way that doesn’t strip the philosophy of its context and meaning, but rather presents in a different structure.

I don’t mind this answer. I understand the benefits of influencers and content creation platforms to philosophy. I understand, and I appreciate the good that it has done to millions of people. I won’t sit here and act like I don’t follow and support tens of philosophy pages on my Instagram.

Yet, at the same time, I can’t help but feel that there’s something missing. That it will never be able to convey the message that it was meant to convey unless it is read and analyzed in its entirety. Marx’s Das Kapital was meant to be eight bridging, remarkable volumes of economic and philosophical analysis, but millions of people solely know him as the footnote under this quote.

Is there really a way to make philosophy accessible to people without over-simplifying its tenets?

Perhaps not.

One of the courses I’ve taken discusses the idea of “the death of philosophy”. The idea that philosophy is so ridden with so much nonsense and Westernized thinking, that it may actually do us better to just get rid of it as a whole. There are better, more accessible mediums to convey our opinions out there: film, photography, theater, politics (if you wish). Why should we continue to rid ourselves with abnormal philosophical thinking when we are trying to solve urgent existential crises?

The answer’s almost too obvious. There’s very little need to contemplate such things when dealing with global war, climate crises, and epistemic injustices. Sure, abstract notions and critical thinking can provide a foundation for basing strong and informed opinions, yet there’s very little that translates to practice. And more likely,, there’s very little that other people will actually understand.

“[Philosophy] consists not in words but actions,” Seneca said. If very little of these abstract notions translate to practice, then philosophy’s purpose is essentially negated. Words are pointless if they don’t guide our actions, our responses.

Think about a recent argument that you’ve had. What was its purpose? What were you trying to do? It may have started due to a disagreement or a little conflict, but through the course of the argument, you were trying to guide your opponent’s actions. You were trying to get them to do or agree or admit to something that they don’t want to. If your words weren’t trying to guide them to do or react to your argument, then chances are you probably lost.

Philosophy isn’t about books or social media one-liners – it’s about taking action. It’s about implementing a change in yourself, your mindset, your abilities to allow yourself to live the best life that you can live.

And it’s been made clear that neither academia nor popular philosophy can fully account for that action, that sense of responsibility. Everyone can pick up Being and Time, yet practically no one will finish it, and even fewer people will be able to find something practical in it. Everyone can follow a social media page, yet practically no one will take the time everyday to understand their tenets, and even fewer people will consciously apply it to their lives.

The only way to make philosophy a truly actionable, effective part of our lives is to transform it. To remove both options (and everything in between) and rid ourselves of the paradox itself. To remove ourselves from the saturated complexity and simplicity of the forms we see today.

Philosophy is not a static field of knowledge. It was never made to be a section in a library or a category on Reels. It’s a dynamic process of inquiry and reflection, of engaging with the world around us, and of finding ways to transform ourselves to better support that world.

Yet, the truth is, I have four philosophical texts sitting on my desk as I write this. I’ve referenced three of them in this piece. I’m pursuing a degree in philosophy that I have to finish, and I write about Stoicism on the Internet for my job. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and read those texts for my research and then probably scroll through Instagram, liking anything that’s even remotely philosophical. Millions of other people will do the same.

Despite all my frustrations and meanderings, philosophy is flourishing. Books will continue to be published, PhD students will be granted professorships, and TikToks will be created using that image of Sisyphus.

And all I can hope is that those videos, those books, those dissertations can inspire someone to change themselves. To take action. To do what philosophy beckons them to do.

Maybe.

*Another stigma that’s been proved wrong in recent years, however. According to this piece from BigThink, philosophy majors make more money than economics majors six months out of college.

*Mainly focusing on the liberal arts in this statement: philosophy, literature, classical studies, etc.

*Granted, another view from the ancient philosophers that has not aged well. One could only truly pursue wisdom were wealthy, white, land-owning men, as they were said to be superior to their surroundings in every way. Socrates' account also fails to take in systemic injustices and disadvantages that one may be placed at innately due to their surroundings (more on this to come). For these purposes, I will be focusing on the idea that philosophy is a universal sphere that anyone can use to better their lives.