Teaching and Learning > DISCOURSE

Engaging Student Relativism

Author: Gerald J. Erion

Journal Title: Discourse

ISSN: 1741-4164

ISSN-L:

Volume: 5

Number: 1

Start page: 120

End page: 133

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Note: Earlier drafts of this work were presented at the University of Leeds, the University of Memphis, West Virginia Wesleyan College, and Medaille College. I must also thank Kenneth Barber for introducing me to these issues and Heather Battaly for her valuable commentary at Memphis.

1. Introduction

When our introductory students first encounter philosophy, they often exhibit a peculiar response known in the teaching literature as student relativism. Most generally, student relativism claims (or at least implies) that truth is not an objective phenomenon, but relative, either to individuals or to societies.1 Student relativism thus has much in common with classic philosophical relativism, but unlike its proper philosophical counterpart, student relativism is rarely questioned or supported by substantial arguments. Instead, student relativists typically express their conception of truth with such ambiguous slogans as, 'That might be true for you (or for them), but it is not true for me (or for us),' 'That is just your opinion (and every opinion is equally valuable),' or the classic student relativist's rhetorical question, 'Who is to say?'.

Left unchecked, student relativism can be a serious problem for philosophy instructors. Consider, for example, the student relativists who enrol in our critical thinking courses, and who thus see logic not as a reliable tool of inquiry, but perhaps as some mysterious symbol-manipulating game. These students miss a crucial and fundamental lesson about the role that reason can play in academic investigation, and their work takes on a distressing character aimed at simply learning the rules of the game, not at using these rules to advance their own understanding. As Richard W. Momeyer notes, similar misapprehensions also plague our metaphysics courses, our epistemology courses, our aesthetics courses, and, above all, our ethics courses (301). In fact, there may be no branch of academic scholarship that is immune to student relativism, and so its potential effects may be just as serious for our colleagues in the humanities, the social sciences, and even the natural sciences.2

Thankfully, though, philosophy faculty have developed a number of strategies for engaging and disarming student relativism during a decades-long conversation conducted in the pedagogical journals and other publications. A comprehensive analysis and evaluation of this work would seem to be in order, and so this paper begins with a brief survey of some of the most significant contributions to the recent professional discussion of student relativism. Ultimately, I will argue that a thorough response to the student relativist must pull together insights from both sides of this long-running debate, so that it not only utilises rational argument, but also remains sensitive to the more subtle appeals of student relativism.

2. The 'Traditional' Response

For many philosophy teachers, our first encounter with the pedagogical challenge of student relativism comes as we begin to teach our first undergraduate courses in the discipline. At this point in one's professional development, it is common to adopt a strategy that seems to represent a kind of standard, traditional instructor's response to student relativism. According to this tradition, the way to handle student relativism when it comes up in class is to first draw the claim out into the open (i.e. either present it or elicit it from the students), then articulate it as precisely as possible, and then finally attack it with some of the classic objections made to philosophical relativism. So, for instance, when a philosophy teacher first hears a student claiming 'That might be true for you, but it is not true for me,' the traditional response calls for us to work out a precise formulation of relativism, and then point out some of its counterintuitive consequences.

This roughly describes the approach used, for example, by W. T. Stace and Richard Brandt in their often-anthologised treatments of relativism.3 Since Stace and Brandt both focus on ethical versions of relativism, though, it might also be useful to consider sources that discuss a more general sort of relativism, such as Theodore Schick and Lewis Vaughn's critical thinking text, How to Think About Weird Things4. Again, Schick and Vaughn follow the traditional strategy of present, articulate, and critique, though their updated treatment of the issues here includes captivating examples drawn not only from the history of philosophy, but also from the vast literature of pseudoscience and the paranormal.

Schick and Vaughn begin by arguing that, if we simply equate truth with belief, then we could never be mistaken; whatever we believe would be, by definition, true (71-73). 'It would be nice if we were always right,' they note, 'but as we all know all too well, we aren't' (72). We make mistakes about the shape of the earth, we misdial telephone numbers, and some of us may even place losing bets with our bookmakers. Thus, it seems, we cannot naïvely maintain that whatever we believe is the truth. Furthermore, Schick and Vaughn write, relativism implies its own denial, since those who reject relativism (i.e. those who believe that relativism is false) must be just as correct as the relativists are (71, 73). Schick and Vaughn also point out the well-known problems that relativism causes for moral reform and universal human rights (73-75) before arguing that, ultimately, relativism is a self-defeating doctrine:

[T]he relativist faces a dilemma: if he interprets his theory objectively, he defeats himself by providing evidence against it [i.e. a counterexample to it]. If he interprets his theory relativistically, he defeats himself by failing to provide any evidence for it. Either way, he defeats himself (78).

Finally, Schick and Vaughn contend that our widely held concerns about tolerance and respect for others actually presuppose that relativism is false:

The relativist may say that...we should respect the right of people to be different. But she can't consistently uphold this right—she can't say that others should respect this right...She can't even condemn those who would trample this right. She can only say that she supports it (82).

Thus, Schick and Vaughn provide many of the standard antirelativistic arguments that make up the traditional instructor's response to student relativism. It is against the backdrop of this tradition that a number of additional strategies for dealing with student relativism have been developed over the past two decades in the literature on philosophical pedagogy. By surveying the most significant developments in this discussion we can not only gain a more accurate analysis of student relativism, but we can also develop more effective strategies for dealing with it when it comes up in our classrooms.

3. Andre's Approach to Naïve Relativism

Among the earliest contributions to the recent professional discussion of student relativism is a 1983 piece first published in Metaphilosophy by Judith Andre. In her paper, Andre describes an ethics course designed to slowly undermine her students' confidence in the naïve, uncritical slogans of student relativism. By focusing on the importance of analysis and argumentation in the battle against student relativism, then, Andre's paper serves to exemplify what I am calling the traditional response. At the same time, though, Andre also introduces some non-traditional insights worth considering as we attempt to understand and respond to student relativism.

Andre begins by recommending that instructors first show their students that reason has an important role to play in ethical judgment (179-180). Virtually everyone agrees, for instance, that empirical facts are relevant to good moral decision-making, and that it is important for our moral judgments to be logically consistent with one another. After gaining these minor footholds within the wider domain of rational moral philosophy, Andre claims, the relativist slogans begin to disappear from her classroom.

Of course, given our contemporary social environment, undergraduates are still likely to encounter the slogans of student relativism outside of the classroom. To help equip her students with the skills needed to disarm these slogans, then, Andre also conducts a careful philosophical analysis of statements like 'Abortion is wrong for me, but it might be right for someone else.' Upon closer inspection, students see that such a statement is confusingly ambiguous. For instance, it might simply mean that 'We are in significantly different circumstances; [in other words,] circumstances can affect the morality of an act' (181). Alternatively, it might acknowledge a disagreement about the morality of abortion, or a reluctance to judge as blameworthy those who have abortions, or even an uncertainty about whether abortion is right or wrong (181-182). It could also be a statement of the more bewildering claim that 'Abortion is wrong in certain circumstances and (at the same time and in unaltered circumstances) also right' (182). Other 'translations' of the slogan are possible as well, of course, but the point is that only the most absurd (such as our final translation, 'Abortion is wrong in certain circumstances and [at the same time and in unaltered circumstances] also right') are incompatible with an objective conception of morality.5 Once students realize this, Andre writes, they are better equipped to dismantle the slogans outside of class.

4. Satris and Student Relativism

In 1986, just three years after Andre's paper first appeared, Stephen Satris published another classic contribution to our discussion. In his piece, Satris emphasizes the distinctly non-reflective, non-critical, and indeed non-philosophical nature of student relativism. In his view, student relativism is not so much a philosophical position backed up with evidence as it is a psychological defence mechanism that students invoke to avoid the critical discussion, reflection, and judgment that are essential to philosophical work. Student relativism is thus a kind of 'suit of armour' designed to protect the student relativist's own beliefs from criticism (197). As Satris writes, 'S[tudent] R[elativism] is fundamentally misdiagnosed when it is viewed as a philosophical position' (199). Instead, he argues, student relativism is best understood as a way of avoiding the expression of a genuine philosophical position, and thus of avoiding the challenges that one must endure to develop such a position.

To break through this armour, Satris offers a number of suggestions, most of which echo the traditional methods for dealing with student relativism. First is a careful presentation, analysis, and critique of either student relativism or philosophical relativism. Satris admits, though, that this conventional strategy will work only with those few students whose confidence in their own knowledge has left them well prepared for relativism's 'evaporation' (199-200). Thus, he also recommends an Andre-style criticism of the students' own statements of relativism as they come up naturally during the semester (200-202). In addition, Satris cites Michael Goldman's suggestion that students be asked to discuss why relativism (especially moral relativism) is such a pervasive feature of contemporary American culture (202).6 By singling out relativism as itself a culturally relative phenomenon in this way, he argues, students may be able to gain the critical distance necessary to become skeptical of their own relativistic tendencies. Finally, Satris (again following Goldman) recommends the method of advocacy, whereby instructors provide examples of philosophical positions that they believe can be proved, and then present those proofs (203).7 As Satris writes:

For purposes of demonstrating (i.e. actually showing) that progress can be made on difficult questions there is no substitute for actually making some progress on some difficult questions. If one pursues philosophy honestly and with effort and ability, one can hardly fail to do what S[tudent] R[elativism] says cannot be done. One will have made some good progress on some appreciably difficult but important questions. One thus demonstrates that philosophical thinking can occur and that understanding can be deepened, contrary to all expectations of S[tudent] R[elativism] (203).

Thus, Satris provides not only a rather non-traditional diagnosis of student relativism, but also several non-traditional prescriptions. As he summarises the point, 'The main strategic move that needs to be made with respect to S[tudent] R[elativism] is one away from saying and toward showing...The best way to do this is to practice the arts of philosophy and thereby provide students with a model of what can be done with such questions if they are approached with effort, honesty and integrity, and the tools of critical inquiry' (203-204).

5. Paden's Response

The next major contribution to our discussion comes from Roger Paden, who argues in his 1987 Teaching Philosophy paper that the recommendations of both Andre and Satris are inadequate. As Paden writes, 'The standard methods for dealing with student relativism often fail...because they are aimed at non-existent, and totally opposite, entities—either philosophically sophisticated, or completely uninformed students whose minds, it might be thought, closely resemble Locke's tabula rasa' (97).8 Instead of engaging such caricatured student relativists, then, Paden recommends treating introductory students as novice philosophers with strong, though seriously flawed, metaphysical and epistemological beliefs.

According to Paden, the key to understanding student relativism is seeing it not as an accidental notion, a philosophical principle, or a psychological defence, but as the conclusion to a general type of moral argument. Many students hold this argument, Paden writes, though they are 'only dimly aware' of it and its consequences when they arrive in our courses (98). So, in Paden's view, the instructor's main task is to draw from the students their argument for relativism, which Paden reconstructs for his readers as follows:

  1. Respect for persons requires that everyone has a right to his or her own opinion.
  2. Therefore, it is wrong (i.e. impermissible) to try to force anyone to change his or her opinion.
  3. Arguments can force someone to change his or her opinion.
  4. Therefore, it is not morally possible (i.e. impermissible) to argue against someone's opinion.
  5. If it is not possible to argue against an opinion, it must be true.
  6. Therefore, if someone holds some belief, then due respect for that person compels us to say that belief is true for that person (even though it is not true for me) (99).9

In summary, then, Paden maintains that students become student relativists because, ultimately, they are concerned about respecting others; as he writes, 'Relativism is not held by them as a meta-ethical position, but as a first-order ethical belief. It is a consequence of their belief in, and their understanding of, ethical toleration' (99).

Having reconstructed this sort of argument through class discussion, then, Paden recommends criticising what he sees as its two weakest points (99-100). First, while it may be important to recognise respect for others as a virtue, students should also ask whether respect for others really demands that we isolate others from critical discussion. Scientists, academic colleagues, and even dear friends, it seems, can respect one another even as they engage in vigorous argumentation. Second, Paden also suggests highlighting the ambiguous notions of 'force' and 'impossibility' used in the student relativist's argument. Premise 3) above is true, of course, since arguments can cause (i.e. 'force') rational people to change their opinions, but this sort of force is very different from the sort of physical compulsion that we would be more likely to recognise as morally problematic. Likewise, while it might be in some sense 'impossible' to argue against, say, a king with the power to punish those who argue against him, it is certainly not logically impossible to do so.10 Thus, it seems that Paden's general strategy has much in common with the traditional approach, for it treats student relativists as philosophers (albeit unsophisticated philosophers) whose arguments should be taken seriously.

6. Pedagogical Implications

So, despite the widespread recognition among philosophy instructors that student relativism is a problem, there remain clear disagreements about how best to understand and respond to it. What general pedagogical lessons can we draw from this debate, then? Is student relativism to be treated as a philosophical position, as Andre and Paden suggest? Or is student relativism a non-philosophical defence mechanism, as Satris contends?

Perhaps the most important analytical point to be gained here is the simple recognition that, for students, relativism fulfils a variety of different functions. Some student relativists are struggling, as Paden believes, to develop their own rudimentary philosophical systems. Others are looking to avoid such work, as Satris argues. Reviewing this discussion in his 1995 Teaching Philosophy paper, Richard W. Momeyer suggests that student relativism has at least six (and perhaps more) distinct meanings (302-306). For some students, he writes, student relativism is a primitive philosophy, while for others it may be simply a sign of personal defensiveness, or even of confusion and intellectual laziness. The work of such cognitive psychologists as William G. Perry (1981) suggests that relativism may be a temporary developmental stage for many students, especially first- and second-year students (84-85).11 Alternatively, it might also express a protest against absolutism and authoritarianism, or perhaps a commitment to good manners and tolerance.

Thus, in any moderately sized class, we can expect to have students who are attracted to student relativism for any number of different reasons. To effectively engage such diverse groups of learners, then, instructors must first understand the work that relativism does for their students, and then implement appropriate strategies. Budding philosophers, for instance, might be ready to jump straight into the traditional techniques of articulation and criticism, while less sophisticated students may be better off starting with Satris' advocacy, or even a straightforward discussion of Perry's developmental stage theory, a tactic that Momeyer recommends (307- 308). The point here is that no single analysis, and no single pedagogical strategy, will fit every student, or every class; instead, effective engagement of student relativism requires that the instructor be sensitive to the different purposes that student relativism serves for different students.12

Pieter Mostert (1986) provides another important lesson for instructors eager to understand student relativism. Reviewing Craig K. Ihara's (1984) detailed articulation of an argument for relativism from tolerance, he warns that philosophy instructors may be prone to 'overinterpret' the pronouncements of their student relativists to the point that we literally 'transform' casual remarks into thorough, precise arguments that novice philosophers could never assemble (202-203). To achieve an accurate analysis of student relativism, then, we must take care to avoid the kind of overinterpretation that concerns Mostert. This need not preclude us from treating student relativists as genuine philosophical relativists if doing so is pedagogically useful, though; as Momeyer writes:

I rather doubt that very much of S[tudent] R[elativism] is philosophical, even potentially, but there is great incentive for philosophers in particular to see it as such, and no doubt pedagogical value in doing so as well. By seeing S[tudent] R[elativism] as philosophical, we can do a number of things we like to do and are good at doing, such as exercise our pedagogical and intellectual skills in drawing out students to develop a philosophical position; introduce important distinctions such as that between descriptive and normative relativism or that between 'believing x is true' and 'x is true;' fit student pronouncements into a well developed literature and tradition; bring out powerful arguments to show the interesting problems in even a very sophisticated philosophical moral relativism (302-303).

Thus, while potentially useful as a teaching tool, overinterpretation can still mislead us about the true nature of student relativism.

There are other practical lessons that we can draw from our literature review as well. For instance, there seems to be a broad consensus among philosophy instructors that concerns about tolerance and respect for others somehow lead our students to embrace or maintain their relativism. We have already looked at Paden's detailed treatment of this issue, and Schick and Vaughn pick up the theme as well, but there are also similar contributions from Ihara and Mostert in the teaching journals. Their specific tactics vary, but all of these authors recommend that instructors initiate a careful and explicit discussion of the supposed connection between relativism and tolerance as a way of undercutting relativism's hold on introductory classes. If a significant number of our students truly believe that their relativism serves the cause of tolerance and respect, then this would seem to be an especially sensible idea.

Finally, it may be worth considering (as Andre does) how we could best arrange the overall structure of our courses to help us engage student relativism most effectively.13 Though student relativism can affect undergraduate instruction in any discipline, it is an especially acute problem in philosophy. This may be in part because so many non-philosophers seem to think that philosophical questions can only be answered relativistically, with a shrug and a dutiful 'Who is to say?' As a result, students often arrive for our introductory courses with a naïve relativistic predisposition. Instructors who begin the semester with a careful discussion of relativism may be in a better position to head off this sort of bias, though; once students understand some of the classic criticisms of philosophical relativism, for example, they may be more inclined to consider the notion that careful, critical thought can help us to answer the fundamental questions of philosophy in a more reflective and substantial way.

On the other hand, the overall design of our philosophy courses may also inadvertently encourage student relativism. For instance, students who are forced to march through a series of radically opposed positions on fundamental philosophical issues without pausing to consider the implications of this sort of disagreement may see no hope for intellectual reconciliation but relativism.14 Of course, we would not want to shield our students from opposing viewpoints in a philosophy course, but it may also be worthwhile to supplement this sort of presentation with regular reviews of earlier lessons on student relativism throughout the semester. Likewise, a careful reconsideration of student relativism at the conclusion of the semester (perhaps culminating with an appropriate writing assignment or exam essay) could also help students to develop more thoughtful responses to the radical theoretical diversity that is part of any proper philosophy course.

7. Conclusion

So, thanks in large part to the work of philosophers and philosophy teachers, there are now a number of effective strategies for dealing with student relativism in the classroom. This does not mean, however, that each of these strategies will be equally effective for all students. Rather, a proper analysis of student relativism is a crucial first step in engaging the position, for we can only understand how best to confront it if we first understand its attraction (rational or otherwise) for our students. Once we complete this analysis, we are in a much better position to determine which engagement strategies will be the most effective. Well-prepared, mature students may be ready to appreciate the rational arguments offered in the traditional approach, while others may benefit more from an initial advocacy approach. Thus, to develop a thorough strategy for engaging student relativism we must understand and integrate insights from both sides of this long-running pedagogical debate.

References

Endnotes

  1. It might therefore help to distinguish two varieties of what is ordinarily called 'student relativism:' student subjectivism, which claims that truth is relative to individuals, and student relativism, which claims that truth is relative to societies. Both notions deny objective truth, of course, but while subjectivism maintains that individuals determine truth, relativism maintains that societies determine truth. In this paper I observe the common convention of referring to both notions as 'student relativism.'
  2. This may explain why Wilbert J. McKeachie (2002) includes a section on student relativists in the 'Problem Students' chapter of his McKeachie's Teaching Tips, an excellent handbook for college and university teachers in any discipline.
  3. Satris (1986) suggests both Stace (1937) and Brandt (1959) as classic sources on this issue; see pages vi-x and 8-31 of Stace's book, for instance, or pages 271-294 of Brandt's book.
  4. Indeed, I have found Schick and Vaughn (1995) useful in a number of my undergraduate courses; see Irwin (1997) for a thorough review.
  5. Note that Mostert (1986) substitutes the term 'transformation' for Andre's 'translation,' since, as he writes, 'The gap between the original and the philosophical statement is too wide to be an example of translation' (footnote 203).
  6. See Goldman (1981), pages 4-5; Richard W. Momeyer (1995) also writes favourably of Goldman's strategy of treating student relativism as a social phenomenon on pages 307-308.
  7. Note that the sort of advocacy that Satris has in mind here is not some sort of coercive indoctrination, but an intellectually honest modelling of rational, philosophical inquiry. As Goldman (1981) writes, against Elias Baumgarten (1980):
    There is an enormous difference between advocacy and indoctrination...To advocate a position is not to manipulate or to coerce; it is, at least as I and those I know who support the position believe, to offer the most intellectually and rationally compelling reasons one can in its favour. It is not to ignore or even to slight alternatives. It is to present these alternatives in the strongest light possible in order to show why they are, nevertheless, inadequate. Indoctrination, on the other hand, makes use of certain non-rational, covert forms of inculcation (8).
  8. Paden is not entirely critical of Andre and Satris, though; for instance, he recommends Andre's 1983 paper as a source of 'some non-standard ways of dealing with the problem [of student relativism]' on page 100.
  9. This general suggestion that student relativism is a consequence of students' concerns about tolerance also appears in Ihara (1984), Mostert (1986), and Schick and Vaughn (1995).
  10. It might also help to point out here (as Schick and Vaughn [1995] do on pages 81- 82) that relativism is actually inconsistent with tolerance, for it allows no criticism of intolerance. On the other hand, objectivists can easily recognize the virtue of being tolerant, provided they recognize that we all make mistakes.
  11. See also Perry (1970) for a more thorough treatment of the 'late multiplicity' stage in his now-classic developmental scheme.
  12. Momeyer (1995) makes a similar point just before listing his suggested strategies for dealing with student relativism:
    Given the varieties of meanings and uses of expressions of S[tudent] R[elativism], it is only to be expected that different teaching techniques will be effective with different students and at different times. Unsurprisingly, experienced teachers must determine which of the following techniques are appropriate at a given time, in the circumstances at hand. There is no formula to offer for determining when that might be. They are all, if you will, 'relative' (306).
  13. I am especially grateful to my audience at University of Memphis for their lively and provocative dialogue on this issue.
  14. Stephen J. Sullivan made a similar point during our conversation at Memphis; see also Rachels (2003) on moral skepticism (pages 22-28) for a related discussion.

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