Uni-Tübingen

PHILOSOPHY REPORT

Nothing great in the world was accomplished without passion

by Jans George Rautenbach

 

The title is a famous quote by a world-renowned philosopher who studied at the University of Tübingen, Georg Hegel. It accurately summarises the attitude German philosophers have been taking for centuries. For ground-breaking and paradigm-shifting philosophical theories of metaphysics, ethics, history, and science do not come of lazing about all day. They come from following a passion for truth-seeking to the ends of the Earth. And this was the exact life philosophy of prominent German thinkers - from 17th century enlightenment philosopher Gottfried Leibniz to 21st century pop philosopher Markus Gabriel. 

This view that true achievement requires effort, is exemplified in Tübingen. It is no small feat producing thousands of critical thinkers, multiple of whom are today considered great philosophers. Back home at the University of Cape Town, the philosophy department has a single modest building with a mere handful of lecture theatres. Contrasting the University of Tübingen, which has more than three massive buildings dedicated to academic philosophy, outlines the differing attitudes on the subject. 


During my time on the program I attended two public philosophy lectures and spoke to dozens of local students and townsfolk, and from these interactions I can tell that the subject is not taken lightly. Tübingers have a deep respect for philosophy and those that pursue it. Not only on a simple “thinking is good” level, but much more intimately. I have found that the average Tübingen layman is able to express their world-views with relatively great depth and self-awareness, even without formal philosophical training. 


A fun example of this cultural difference came to the fore one Friday night when I was walking with a German student to grab some drinks and celebrate the week’s end. On our walk we crossed a few street intersections and (as per the famous stereotype) we waited patiently every single time for the pedestrian green light to show. The fact that no one dares to jaywalk meant to me that Germans trust the system more than they trust themselves. This deduction was flipped on its head when at the last crossing on our journey, my German accomplice walked straight over while the pedestrian light shone red. Scurrying after, I asked him why he defied the norm. His response was that in Germany they have an unwritten rule that adherence to the pedestrian traffic lights is only necessary when there are children at the crossing. I had not noticed that this had been the case for every crossing before. Intrigued, I continued prodding the topic. He told me that while there is no widely-known reason for the rule, he follows it because it normalises in children that the societal system ought to be trusted, which in turn decreases the intensity of teenage rebellion (where he believes most of an adult’s vices stem from). So, in short, he argues that the rule ultimately helps build better German adults.


This response was mind-blowing to me for two reasons. Firstly, I learned that there may exist some greater depth to the no-jaywalking German rule than simple blind faith in the system. Finding arguments that change my views is always exhilarating for me and is one of the reasons I love studying philosophy. But the greater lesson learnt from the interaction of that night was that Tübingers understand what they do and their motivations for doing it. If you ask a South African why they jaywalk, they will most likely say “I’ve got places to be” and nothing more.
The passion the people of Tübingen have for thinking just a step further, is remarkable to me. It makes me wonder how different the world would be if everyone put a little more thought into their actions.