On Reading and Annotating Philosophical Texts (for Undergraduates)
I’m only a few years into teaching. Others are much more qualified to speak about pedagogy, classroom protocols, and the like; however, I recently saw Dolores Morris’s fantastic Substack about teaching well after AI. I was really grateful she was thoughtful enough to make her classroom practices widely available, and I am taking some ideas from her.
I thought I would share this article that I wrote for my philosophy students. I pass it out and read it aloud word-for-word on the first day of the course. I implemented it two semesters ago, and it made a significant difference for student textual engagement in all four sections. Please free to copy, utilize, or print this to distribute however you see fit.
In this course, we will be reading a range of texts that span several centuries and contexts, which means we will have to approach each work on its own merits if we hope to read it accurately. I’ll give an example. Think about the difference between reading the Gospel of Matthew versus reading a poem that your friend made in an English composition class last week or a biography written fifteen years ago about a favorite celebrity. Without even thinking about it, you would interact with these things in different ways: you would probably attempt to be calm and prayerful when reading the Bible, you might tease your friend about their poetry skills or try to dig deeper into their personality if it was a more serious subject matter, and you would likely try to learn new facts from whichever celebrity biography you decided to read. These dispositions reveal different ways of approaching and reading texts. The purpose of a text informs the way we interact with a text.
The same idea is true for philosophical texts. Philosophical texts take different shapes: Plato’s works exist in a dialogue form, whereas Aristotle’s are much more scholastic; some texts were intended to be circulated publicly, while others were personal correspondences between two people or groups. These things—intended audience, genre, date, and cultural context—fill in other details about what an author’s words could have meant in their time and what they can mean for us today. It is important for us to engage these kinds of things if we want to understand the meaning of philosophical texts. Or, to put it another way, if we want to learn to read philosophy, we must first learn to read.
While this is a class on philosophical ethics, this is also a class where you will (hopefully) become better readers. I have made sure each week’s assigned reading is not unnecessarily lengthy or difficult, especially since you have other courses going on. As a tradeoff for respecting your time and keeping these readings short, the expectation is that we will be engaged readers. In other words, while I am not making you read a lot each week, I do expect you will read deeply each week.
Over the years, a few habits have made me a better and deeper reader. I’ll outline a few to try to help you succeed in the class:
Read physical print. Digital books and articles encourage us to treat texts as if they are impersonal to us. For the biggest chunk of human history, reading has been a communal activity: it relied on production from physical media like papyrus scrolls, the codex bookform, or the printing press, writings were often read aloud publicly, and they were studied in the context of conversation, interpretation alongside peers, or under the tutelage of a teacher. Following this model, you should read printed texts unless you have a reason not to do so.
Since I haven’t selected a single textbook, I have provided you with a packet including every source we will read this semester to alleviate the burden of requiring physically printed materials. You are responsible for keeping up with this: all the readings will be available for you digitally if you lose or misplace it, but you will be responsible for printing a new copy for yourself in the event you lose it. Students historically perform better using printed materials, so it will be the normal expectation for class each week.
Annotate texts as you read. One of the easiest ways to boost reading comprehension is to stop treating what you read as sacred: write on it. I don’t have one consistent method or guide for annotating; I highlight, underline, circle, or write marginal notes in what I am reading. This sometimes includes question marks for unclear ideas, exclamation points for important, interesting, or provocative ideas, and marginal cross-references to other writings that I’m thinking of as I read. No matter what form annotations take, working with the text on this level allows you, as a reader, to participate more directly with the work’s ideas and content.
If you don’t know where to start with annotating texts, here are a few suggestions to help, though I encourage you to try new things and find what works for you to digest the material:
Make a note in the margin when you encounter a new or compelling idea that you agree or disagree with. Why do you agree with it? Or, if you disagree, why do you disagree with it? You may not have a reason, so it could be simply writing, “This seems wrong,” or drawing a thumbs down (if pictures help you).
Circle, highlight, or underline repeated phrases, concepts, or ideas. Why do you think it keeps showing up? Is the author doing something unique by using this word, phrase, or idea over and over? Are they using this word the same way everyone else does? An author’s word choice is rarely coincidental, so when they couch discussions in particular terms, it’s usually for a reason.
When an author quotes another source (like a book, an earlier writer, scripture, etc.), figure out why they are doing so. This is even more important if they cite it by name or give the author some kind of special title. Are they doing it to prove their authority or expertise to their reader? Does it play an important role in their argument—and, if it is so important, why does invoking that quotation matter to the author? Make a note of these kinds of dynamics between an author and their reader.
Read the entire assigned reading—even if you feel like you don’t understand it. You will encounter new, ambitious, disagreeable, or even challenging ideas in this course. That’s okay. I am more interested in seeing you grow and develop as a human being rather than getting an answer right on an exam or being able to perfectly regurgitate a set of facts. On a plainer level, this means that we will be going over the main contours of the works we read. You should make time to read the full text even if you feel like you don’t understand it all. I have provided guided reading questions that will aid you in understanding or following the main ideas of these writings in the event you feel completely lost. Completing these prior to the class discussion of a reading will give you something to say if you get called on, help you understand what I’m hoping you will take away from your reading, and prepare you for your philosophical journals.