In my involvement with pre-college philosophy, I have been blessed in more ways than one. First, I had excellent mentors in Kristopher G. Phillips and Gregory Stoutenburg. Second, I learned (then borrowed and deployed here at Western Kentucky University) the excellent Lyceum model for pre-college philosophy camps. 

Third – something I knew but did not fully appreciate at the time– I was blessed by our R1 context at the University of Iowa. When I organized the Iowa Lyceum for three summers as its president (though in no year did I do the job alone), we had a saturated labor market – an abundance of philosophers eager to volunteer their time for rewards partly extrinsic (the sub-minimum wage of a t-shirt) but mostly intrinsic (the limitless joy of doing philosophy with a very motivated and bright self-selected group of high schoolers conversing philosophically in a structured academic setting for the first, or almost the very first, time). 

In a department with 10-to-15 faculty and 20-to-30 doctoral students, we would always have enough people to teach the 12-or-so sessions we needed despite the usual summer vacations and research trips that deplete the ranks of available volunteers. This is particularly the case given that the two or three folks who organized the camp each year could teach the recurring sessions, such as introduction to logic and reasoning. Teaching a few logic sessions and a few others did not place a problematic burden on the organizers who also had all the administrative tasks to do (reviewing applications, setting up breakfasts, meeting the lunch deliveries, etc.). 

Not so at a regional public university with no philosophy graduate program. At Western Kentuckey University, we currently have three philosophy faculty, down from four in the 2017-2018 academic year. This means we are talking about some long days staffing and teaching the program for the folks organizing the summer camp. As well, one or two volunteers may be away during the summer on research leave or doing grant work that doesn’t really give them 40 spare hours in any given week. (As if to illustrate the point, one of my wonderful colleagues has an NEH Summer Stipend this summer – congratulations again, Audrey!). At programs without graduate students (whether MA or PhD), the labor surplus just is not there – in the summer.

However, ever since the philosophy students here at Western Kentucky University found out about my summer program (it only started two years ago, and the word is now very much out), they have demanded opportunities to get involved. In their eagerness, however, they often forget they don’t have summer housing, having sublet their apartments or committed to internships or study abroad or [you fill in the blank]. It is a sore loss, to both on-campus and off-campus students, not to be able to offer on-campus students the rare opportunity to share their love for philosophy with pre-college students. 

Plus, if your program is on-campus like mine, and if your university’s fall break or spring break does not coincide with the public school schedule, you can (as I plan to do) incorporate actual college philosophy classes into the pre-college philosophy program.

Accordingly, my (admittedly anecdotal) experience leads me to the following recommendations:

• If your university (a) has a philosophy graduate program or (b) has fall or spring breaks that align with the school district’s breaks, then hold the camp in summer.
• If your university (a) has no philosophy graduate program and (b) has fall or spring breaks that do not align with the school district’s breaks, then hold the camp during the academic year.

The 2024 Lyceum-style pre-college philosophy program at Western Kentucky University, the Hilltopper Philosophy Academy (which is generously supported by PLATO and the Kentucky Humanities), will run in 2024-2025 from October 8-12 and will incorporate some sessions from our fall course offerings, such as Philosophy of Language. It will also include philosophical conversations with Western Kentucky University philosophy students as facilitators and interlocutors. Interested pre-college students can apply here.

If anyone wants to converse about the merits and demerits of summer and academic year pre-college on-campus philosophy camps, my inbox is open.

NOTE: This will be the last Wondering Aloud blog post for the 2023-24 school year. We will resume publication in September. Happy summer!

The post When to Run a Philosophy Camp for K-12 Students? appeared first on PLATO.

In the beautiful picture book Infinity and Me, written by Kate Hosford and illustrated by Gabi Swiatkowska, a young girl, Uma, looks up into the night sky and starts to feel “very, very small.” She begins to wonder about the nature of infinity. 

Uma then asks various people how they imagine infinity. She receives a wide range of responses, such as “a giant number that keeps growing bigger and bigger forever” and a family, which could “go on forever.” She notices that it’s hard to talk about infinity without mentioning “forever,” and considers whether there is anything she would like to do forever. 

Uma considers having recess forever, but then questions whether, if there’s no school before or after recess, it would still be recess. In the end, she stares at the night sky while snuggled next to her grandmother, and she observes that the sky doesn’t seem as “huge and cold” anymore.

I read this book to a group of fourth-grade students after one of the students had suggested that we have a conversation about infinity, saying that she often wonders about it. The students had the following questions about infinity:

If infinity can be a family, how would it be infinite?

Why does infinity go on? Why is it called infinity? What is infinity? 

Do we live in infinity? 

If infinity never ends, how did it begin? 

Can infinity be different sizes? Can infinity overlap? Infinity goes on forever—can it be destroyed? 

Is your mind able to imagine infinity? 

How was infinity made? Why was infinity made? 

Does anything go on for infinity? Is infinity just when all the numbers run out? 

Can the word ‘infinity’ hold what infinity is? 

The students were especially curious about the idea suggested in the book that infinity could be imagined as a family.

“Is family really infinite?” one student asked. “What if you have no siblings and then you have no children? Wouldn’t that be the end of your family?”

“But you would still have family in the world, even if you didn’t know about them,” another student responded. “There would be cousins and second cousins and so on. I don’t think families ever end.”

“We once had a 100-year-old neighbor, and he said he was the last of his family. He had no children and no brothers or sisters or nieces or nephews. He said that when he died, his family would come to an end.”

“I guess it matters what you mean by family,” said another student. “If you think about it, we all started with the same bacteria, before the first human being. So we are all family, in a way.”

“But then would talking about your family really mean anything?”

“Also would that mean that when we say the word ‘family,’ we might not even be talking about the same thing? Because when we talk about family, we don’t usually mean everyone in the world.”

“There are lots of definitions of family,” pointed out a student.

“Are the possible definitions of family themselves infinite?” I asked.

“Maybe that’s true of almost every word we use,” a student replied.

This led us into an exchange about whether we can ever really imagine infinity. One student said that she didn’t think so, the concept was “too big for humans to be able to understand.” Another student commented, “I feel like infinity is un-sayable and also un-countable, so I feel like the word infinity is just there to help you wrap your mind around it.”

Other students thought that we could imagine it, if we think about it as something that just goes on and on, and never stops. Like the infinity symbol, one student noted.

The students questioned whether something can be infinite if it had a beginning but has no end. Does it have to be endless in both directions? A family, for instance, might go on forever, but it might have had a beginning. Some students noted that eventually the earth will no longer exist, and so human beings (and families) won’t actually go on forever. 

How big is infinity? Are there are different sizes of infinity? We talked about whether the infinite set of real numbers, for example, is larger than the infinite set of whole numbers. Some students said they could see why one infinity would be larger than another, and others insisted that if an infinite set goes on forever, it makes no sense to talk about one infinite set being larger than another one. 

“Forever means forever! If two things go on forever, how can one be bigger than the other?”

I think this is one of those conversations that could have gone on forever, but it was time for recess.

The post Thinking about Infinity with Elementary School Students appeared first on PLATO.

The award recognizes organizations that undertake new initiatives in philosophy with excellence and success. Announcing the award to PLATO, the American Philosophical Association wrote, “This program is truly indicative of the innovation, excellence, and inspiration that we seek in an award winner.”

PLATO is a growing national organization dedicated to nurturing young people’s curiosity, critical thinking, and desire to explore big questions through philosophy and ethics programs for students, educators, and families. The organization creates opportunities for young people around the world to participate, in person and online, in rigorous and meaningful conversations about life’s deeper questions – nurturing their curiosity and helping them to learn to communicate clearly and think well.

To sign up for PLATO’s press list, please send your email address to: info@plato-philosophy.org.   

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During the past couple of years, I have organized ethics bowls with 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th grade students, both as classrooms units and as larger whole grade events. Ethics Bowls are designed to promote thoughtful, civil dialogue about difficult questions. Students learn ethical reasoning and good listening skills, and they are evaluated on the extent to which they engage thoughtfully, collaboratively, and open-mindedly with the ethical issues raised.

The bowls I run with this age group involve one ethics case, usually drawn from resources designed for the Middle School Ethics Bowl. There are two teams, and the event begins with each team giving short presentations about the case (3-5 minutes). Then the teams engage in a self-moderated open dialogue, for up to ten minutes. The idea is for the teams to think together in a more unstructured and conversational way about the issues that emerge in the presentations. After this, the judges ask the teams questions, designed to further refine each team’s position and to help both teams do the best work they can do. 

Sometimes student spectators participate in the judging by suggesting questions (written on notecards) to the judges during the judges’ questions portion of the round. Finally, each team has a minute to respond to the following question: What point or points did the other team make that really made you think?

Some of the bowls have included numerical scoring and some have simply involved feedback from the judges without any scoring. Some have been judged by fellow students, others by adults. When the teams’ performances are scored, we have had three judges; more judges have been involved when the teams are receiving only verbal feedback.

In a fourth grade in a Seattle public school this year, we held in-class ethics bowl rounds in two classrooms, and then a final round between the winners of the initial rounds. We used the same case, Friendship Ties (case number 6 in this case set), in all the rounds. Before the in-class rounds, one of PLATO’s Graduate Fellows, Melissa Diamond, and I held several preparation sessions in the two classrooms. In the first, we distributed the case and discussed it with the students, identifying and analyzing the ethical issues raised. 

After the introductory session, students signed up to be team members, judges, or spectators. We worked with the teams to develop their presentations and with the judges to think about how they might approach this role. We emphasized the importance of taking seriously the neutrality and objectivity the role demanded of them. Judges and spectators were given feedback forms, which asked them to consider the following for each team:

Presentation

• Did the team clearly identify and discuss the case’s central ethical ideas?
• Did the team consider other viewpoints, including ones that disagree with their position?

Open Dialogue

• Did the team answer questions posed by the other team, and suggest original ideas?
• Did the team build on the ideas of others, exploring different ethical perspectives?
• Did the team demonstrate open-mindedness, taking turns, and listening actively?

Judges Questions 

• Were the team’s responses thoughtfully composed and well developed?
• Did the team directly address the judges’ questions?

At the end of the in-class rounds, the judges gave both teams verbal feedback, without indicating which team they thought had won the round, after which the student spectators gave their own feedback. At that point the judges gathered, with the adult moderator (Melissa or me) helping to facilitate the discussion, to decide which team was the winner. In the first rounds, in both classes, the judges unanimously chose the winning teams.

In the final round a week later, six student judges, three first-round judges from each classroom, were chosen to judge the final round between the winning teams from the two classrooms. At the end of the final round, after judge and spectator feedback, the judges met to determine the winner. Initially, the vote favored one team. During the students’ discussion, several judges changed their votes and the judges ended up in a tie, half favoring one team and half the other (the vote did not follow the classrooms to which the judges belonged). The students decided that a tie was the best result because, they observed, the teams had excelled at different aspects of the event and they also had different weaknesses.

When we reviewed the event the following week, some students expressed frustration with the result, believing that there should not have been a tie. We wondered whether next year we might have an uneven number of judges to avoid a tie, and we discussed how to do this fairly if it would mean having more judges from one classroom than another. 

I asked the students if they would prefer that we use a numerical scoring rubric, and we had a long conversation about this idea. Many students said that a scoresheet would put a different kind of pressure on the event, and they felt that it would inhibit the kind of open conversation that they had really appreciated. At the end of the discussion, we voted on the issue. A significant majority of students rejected numerical scoring.

It’s inspiring how seriously the students take this activity. They work hard to think through the ethical problems involved, and to learn how to analyze why someone might disagree with their approach to the case. They seem to relish the deep and open conversations that ensue. But perhaps what stands out for me most are two related observations. 

First, I notice the genuine listening that the students demonstrate. They pay focused attention to other students say and respond in very specific ways to the points made by the other team. Rather than just repeating their own points, they allow other perspectives to influence their developing thinking about the case and don’t stay attached to the points of view with which they began their presentations. They exhibit flexible thinking and a willingness to change their minds, and to think out loud.

Second, and perhaps it is the deep listening on the part of the other students that fosters this, I watched several students grow more and more confident at being able to say what they think. One student said, “I learned so speak when I had something to say and not to wait.”  I think that student confidence is also cultivated by their recognition of the importance of articulating well-reasoned views, as opposed to just stating opinions. As another student noted, “When judges ask you a question, you have to give a strong answer, but before you say it, you have to think if it really makes sense.”

Would that we all always ask ourselves, before we speak, if what we are about to say really makes sense!

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• Summer programs for high school students from Jacksonville, Florida and Iowa City, Iowa, to Indianapolis and Bowling Green, Kentucky, to Thousand Oaks, California
• Public Philosophy Night at a Spokane, Washington public library
• A series on loss and legacy for adults in Helena, Montana
• Elementary school philosophy classes in Tallahassee, Florida
• A project to develop moral reasoning for middle school students in Boulder, Colorado
• Critical thinking for Irvine, California elementary school students
• Programs for undergraduate students in the mid-Atlantic region
• Summer philosophy camps for Guam elementary, middle, and high school students

PLATO first developed its grants program in 2016 with the goal of funding innovative ethics and philosophy programs around the country for students of all ages and backgrounds. 

In the past, PLATO grants have helped support nature-based philosophy walks in Montana, a retreat where students discussed philosophical themes related to board games in Tennessee, and philosophy sessions with middle school students impacted by trauma in Michigan. 

For the full list of this year’s programs, click here. To sign up for PLATO’s press list, please send your email address to info@plato-philosophy.org.   

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Would you map out how you would like your life to go and then hook up to the machine for the rest of your life?

The students first had many questions about the experiment itself. How would your body survive? Would your eyes be closed the whole time? Could you stop the machine? Could someone else stop it? Could you choose at what age you would connect to the machine? Could you hook up to the machine when you were age 9 and decide that at the moment you hooked up to it you would be 16? What if you programmed your life to go one way and during it you decided you wanted something else – could the machine make that change? Could you decide when you would die? Could you make yourself or other people immortal?

Some students were skeptical about how real the experience could feel. One student proposed that it would be like being in a coma, or an endless dream. I suggested that they try to imagine that their experience of their lives when connected to the machine would feel every bit as authentic as this time in the classroom together felt. I asked them to consider, if this were possible, and they could create the perfect life of their dreams and believe they were living it, would they make this choice?

“I don’t think I would plug into the machine. It would feel like I was cheating on my life. You’re not supposed to be able to plan out your life.”

“I like my life as it is. I wouldn’t want to spend it plugged into a machine, even if it felt good to me.”

“I think I would. I could make Seattle have more sunshine and there could be more room in my house.”

“I wouldn’t. It would just be all me. Like my sister – I could just program her to still be my sister, but she wouldn’t have her own opinions; she would just be whatever I wanted her to be.”

“Some things in life are not good. If I could live a happier life inside the machine, I think I would.”

“I wouldn’t do this. I couldn’t sit and program what I wanted my life to be. Doing that would feel weird and wrong.”

The students talked about the different moments involved in this thought experiment. Many agreed that it would feel strange and artificial to map out how their lives would unfold; although when they were in the machine, they would not know they had controlled the course of their lives, nevertheless the act of doing so ahead of time would not be an experience they would want.

Other students focused on the ethical dimension of the thought experiment.

“There wouldn’t be two of me, right? So what would this mean for my family and friends? They would still exist for me in my mind, and I wouldn’t know they were just in my mind. But to them I would be gone. What about the people you’re leaving behind?”

We talked about the ways in which this experiment could appear just to involve an individual choice, but that all choices affect other people. I might be in the machine, experiencing a wonderful life, but at what cost to the people who care about me?

The students also questioned whether a virtual experience like this could ever feel as real as their lives feel now.

“Wouldn’t you feel an emptiness somewhere inside? Your life might feel like it’s real, but wouldn’t some part of you know there was something missing? That you’re not actually with other people and in real places? Even if you wouldn’t know what was missing, I think you would have a feeling that something wasn’t right.”

And if a virtual experience could feel as real as the world feels to us now, another student wondered, “Could we be in this machine now?”

This was one of those discussions in which almost all the 24 or so students in the room participated, and our session had to end with many students having things left to say. I suggested to the class that they talk about the experiment at home with their families. Quite a few students then stayed after class and missed part of recess to keep talking about their thoughts and ideas. The excitement of the conversation was exhilarating and a reminder of how powerful philosophical ideas can be in an elementary school classroom.

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PLATO is a growing national organization that nurtures young people’s curiosity, critical thinking, and desire to explore big questions through philosophy and ethics programs for students from preschool to high school, as well as for educators and families.  

Students consider such questions as: What makes someone a friend? What is the difference between knowing and believing? Do we have obligations to animals? What is justice? 

The philosophers-in-residence in each school support current programs and introduce new ones, interacting with students, teachers, administrators, and family members to build a culture rich in philosophy and the humanities. 

In January 2022, PLATO merged with the Center for Philosophy for Children, which had been part of the University of Washington. The new, larger PLATO serves thousands of students, teachers, and community members nationally and internationally, through online and in-person programs that foster tolerance of diverse viewpoints, communication skills, and analytic reasoning.  

To sign up for PLATO’s press list, please send your email address to info@plato-philosophy.org.  

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Over the 25 years of its existence, the Center for Philosophy for Children at the University of Washington developed a vibrant philosophical community around the Pacific Northwest and beyond, reaching thousands of students, educators, and families. Its legacy is now part of PLATO. I said at the PLATO Conference in June that in many ways PLATO is now living in three time zones at once – carrying the quarter-century history of the Center’s existence, the ongoing national work in which PLATO has been engaged for 10 years, and a completely new organization that has just begun.

It’s been a joy to bring together many people who have been involved in one or both organizations over the years to form something new, to take what we have achieved and expand it by listening to the voices of our community. We are proud to be enlarging every day the number of people who have access to PLATO’s resources and programs. This year, in addition to implementing many new internal administrative and financial policies, PLATO:

• Led regular philosophy sessions in more than 45 Seattle public school classrooms expanded our philosophers-in-residence program to high schools in Seattle, Boston, and Philadelphia
• Developed new programs for high school, middle school, and elementary school students
• Hosted several in-person events, including our first in-person conference since 2019, the 2022 Washington State High School Ethics Bowl, and an intergenerational ethics program for University of Washington retirees and local high school students
• Ran many online programs for educators, including our first intensive online spring seminar, a monthly Professional Learning Community (PLC), a summer seminar, 3 workshops, 6 webinars, and 4 virtual roundtables on a wide range of philosophical and pedagogical topics
• Redesigned our website, utilized by over 100,000 people in 2022
• Awarded grants to 12 organizations around the US for programs that served over 400 educators and students, and funded 3 Graduate Philosophy for Children Fellowships at the University of Washington

We redefined our mission and vision this year.

Our mission: PLATO nurtures young people’s curiosity, critical thinking, and desire to explore big questions, through philosophy and ethics programs for students, educators, and families.

Our vision: PLATO envisions a future in which all young people confidently ask questions, express well-reasoned views, and welcome the perspectives of others.

What are the most powerful avenues for achieving our mission and vision? 

One of the questions I have been asking myself over the past couple of weeks involves impact – how to evaluate the work we are doing. The numbers of people we reach? The stories we hear from our community about the effects of PLATO’s programs? Are all our programs important? How do we reach more people without compromising or watering down the depth and quality of what we do?

I would love to hear your thoughts about all of this. Please write to me at jana@plato-philosophy.org. Wishing you all a healthy, happy, and peaceful 2023.

The post Reflections After the First Year of PLATO’s Merger appeared first on PLATO.

Three years ago, my 9th-grade history teacher suggested I join my school’s Ethics Club. At first, I hesitated. I liked thinking critically about social issues and discussing them with my peers, but I feared ethics would be a repeat of my experience with middle school debate.

Debate tournaments were cesspools of rivalries, nerves, and overbearing coaches and parents. My teammates and I pecked ruthlessly at the other team’s points to shred them apart, not engage with them. We prioritized winning individual arguments over finding solutions or reanalyzing our actual beliefs, so rarely did I walk away with a greater understanding of the world or another person’s authentic perspective. The whole exercise felt competitive and unproductive.

“Ethics Bowl is not so confrontational,” my teacher pushed, “Come to a few meetings. See how you feel.” 

I took his advice and joined the team. To my delight, we were not assigned to argue “proposition” or “opposition” like in a debate. We were given a set of cases that posed ethical dilemmas and were given free rein to talk about our beliefs on things like whether imposing on others’ free will is ever acceptable or if it is moral to prioritize personal pleasure over civic duty. Instead of these conversations fizzling out after practice like debate, I came home bursting like a shaken soda can with things to tell my parents. My team practiced through the fall and early winter to prepare for the Washington State NHSEB competition in February of 2020, which was judged by adults interested in ethics from the community.

The judges at the competition recognized the value of these conversations too. “Can we have one of these for adults?” they joked. Their request inspired leaders from the University of Washington Retirement Association and PLATO to organize an intergenerational ethics program for both students and adults, which was hosted this October.

When I walked onto the UW campus for the event, I didn’t know what to expect. Despite having served as a student representative on the planning task force, that evening, I was a participant. By the time I arrived, a cavernous room on the second floor of Kane Hall was already set up with delicacies such as cookies, crackers, and cheese varieties to get us in the ethical discussion mindset. 

After grabbing a snack, I joined the sea of red, brown, gray, and white heads of hair clustered around color-coded tables, chatting casually. In total, there were about 40 individuals in attendance, equally split between adults and youth. I was intercepted by an outgoing duo of other high school students who confidently introduced themselves and brought me into the crowd of teenagers. It was my first in-person ethics event since pre-Covid and being around other ethically-conscious teens was invigorating.

Naturally, the high school students and the retirees kept to themselves until the discussion began, but once we were seated at our assigned tables in small groups and the PLATO-selected discussion case was in front of us, we all had something to say to each other. 

Our case, which involved the ethics of taking a job at a company that sells to the US military, brought up personal memories for some of the older participants. One of the seniors at my table kicked off the discussion by telling us about the Vietnam War, the draft, and his opinions on the military as an institution. Sure, it didn’t particularly pertain to the case at hand, but if I had 70 years of experience behind me, I’d want to school some high schoolers too. I often feel close to my generation because social media—like TikTok, Pinterest, and Instagram—binds us through trends and shared ideas. However, my connection to people outside of my age group is limited to relatives. Our discussion gave me an opportunity to expand my insight into other generations. 

I was the only person at my table who had ever been on an ethics team, but the lack of formal training did not prevent any of us from asking questions and voicing our opinions. In fact, the varied range of ethics backgrounds added to the experience by opening up room for mentorship and education. 

My table discussed the case for about an hour until the group share-out when we got to hear what other tables came up with. One table asked if violence was ever morally permissible and how systems of oppression can play a role in that. Another asked how financial pressures can impact your obligations to society. Ninety minutes was not enough time to reach any conclusions, and we had to end with half-thought-out ideas, reactions, and questions still on our tongues. 

On our way out, my friend and I were added to a group chat created by the other high schoolers at the event, which was active for days after the Intergenerational Ethics Discussion. Like me, they were excited to see ethics events resuming post-COVID and were eager to plan more. We began chewing over other possible events for ethics-involved high school students in the Pacific Northwest, but we disagreed over what kind of events they should be. Some argued for a competition, because “People like winning,” while others wanted a space for interested students to engage with each other and encourage people rethink social structures. I fall into the latter. 

I’ve been looking for a place to think critically about social issues but without the unproductive, combative nature of debate and other high school activities that are used as college application cushions. I believe ethics has the potential to offer that environment, and I hope PLATO can continue to facilitate collaborative, critical discussions.

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PLATO grants have funded programs for every age, from kindergarten to senior citizens, in red, blue, and purple states all over America. They include community nature walks in Montana, a summer philosophy camp in Kentucky, elementary school philosophy discussions in Florida, an intergenerational “design your own ethics” program in Michigan, and an ethics and society enrichment program for high school students at Rice University in Texas. 

For more details on these and other previously funded programs, check out PLATO’s grants page. Most successful grants have been in amounts ranging from $200 to $5,000.

The deadline for applications is Jan. 31, 2023. Grant awards will be announced in March 2023. 

If you have questions, please contact us at: info@plato-philosophy.org 

PLATO thanks its members and donors for making the 2023 PLATO-funded programs possible. 

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