On The Connection Between Philosophy and Music

Lucas Jackson (12-4)

I know that the premise for this article seems a little loose. What could the connection between philosophy and music be if not something very broad, vague and unsatisfying? It is a good question, because they are two very different fields. Philosophy is a subject which is primarily academic whereas music is primarily artistic. To put it in general terms, philosophy is founded in the mind, and music in the heart. They rarely intersect with each other, and they could certainly exist by themselves without ever doing so. Now, this does not mean that they contradict each other either, or that commonality between them is inconceivable, but it does make a tightly wound, incisive analogy look distant. Still, I’d like to give it a round, because to me, philosophy and music make the world worthwhile, and I’d like to know what it is about the two of them that is so appealing.

My answer would be that it is storytelling. Think about the most archetypal narrative format, or the shape of a plotline. It is almost always the same. There is first exposition, followed by conflict which eventually culminates and drives the storyline towards resolution. Western Philosophy was founded in a method with the same trajectory, and music likewise is most commonly structured in this form.

Let’s start towards the beginning of Western Philosophy with the “Father of Western Philosophy”, Socrates. Consider, for a moment, his style of argumentation. During his defense testimony in the Apology, he confessed that he was not a born lecturer, and that the Assembly would have to bear with him in his awkward monologue, as that was not quite the kind of discourse he was familiar with. The kind of discourse he was familiar with was reactionary. A response, not a call. He was the strongest counterweight to grace his culture, and he thrived in dialogue because he had nothing to say himself but could disprove anyone who put forward that they did.

He admittedly knew nothing, and yet was still the wisest person in all of Ancient Greece according to the Oracle of Delphi. This was because he was the only person to know that he knew nothing while everyone else actually knew nothing, but thought they had knowledge. Therefore, his knowledge that he had no knowledge set him above everyone else, and was the one piece of knowledge he had that nobody else did. Since nobody else had any knowledge, then, and he had one piece of knowledge, namely the knowledge that he had no knowledge, he became the wisest of them all.

But he spent a long time looking for someone wiser than himself. For this reason, he traveled around to all the poets, politicians, and philosophers of Ancient Greece, engaging them in debates regarding their values and wisdom using his notoriously disarming style of questioning as ammunition. Every encounter ended the same way, and eventually, because it is instinctual to resent confrontation with one’s own ignorance, Socrates’ intellectual antagonism in his society led to his execution. His countrymen came to despise him for his incessant, trenchant challenges. But without him, his countrymen were idiots who didn’t know they were idiots. They were confident idiots, sheltered away from disagreement.

The term dialectic comes from the Ancient Greek word dialegesthai, which means to converse or talk through. Plato, perhaps the most important portrayer of Socrates, would present all of his dialogues in this mode of communication. In essence, dialectics can be understood as the following schema: Suppose there exists a thesis, then, imagine this thesis is confronted by something alien, an antithesis, and the clashing between thesis and antithesis leads towards reconciliation. This is the language of philosophy, and all the innovation which happens inside of philosophy, happens as a result of this process. Socrates fashioned himself into a permanent antithesis of Athenian society, making his aim to refute all theses presented, without ever presenting any of his own.

It’s rather relevant to recognize that as themselves, the intelligentsia of Athens were useless, and Socrates was also useless. When they met together, however, and had productive conversation, holding high the political and social theory of agonism, they made strides towards truth. It was a matter of letting conflict temper the status quo for the sake of resolution through growth and elevation. In short, to tell a story.

Music tends to train towards this goal as well. Take a harmonic staple from jazz music as example, the 2-5-1 chord progression. Now, in order to understand the point being made, the varying roles of the chords in the harmony should be clarified. A music theory education is not necessary to understand this. A 2-5-1 chord progression represents a 2 chord in the harmony, a 5 chord in the harmony, and a 1 chord in the harmony. What’s significant to understand is that a 2 chord in the harmony fits into the category of sub-dominant, a 5 chord into the category of dominant and a 1 chord into the category of tonic. A subdominant chord will create feelings of departure, a dominant chord feelings of tension, and a tonic feelings of stability or resolve. When in tandem, and ordered properly, as is the standard in music, these interwoven sounds of departure, tension and stability present a status quo to face conflict followed by beautiful resolution. In short, they tell a story.

Harmony is not the only dimension of music during which stress and release take place either. It is across the board. For example, in the finale of Bach’s 1st Cello Suite, stress is created as a line aggressively rises in uptempo fashion to a summit before slowing down at the top for the release. Charlie Parker, and other jazz artists from the bebop era, when writing melodies, would swing in and out of the scale corresponding to their key, using chromatic notes liberally to make much subtler moments of stress and release in their music. In Taylor Swift’s Love Story, the lyrics indicate uncertainty in the mind of the protagonist, when they say “my faith in you was fading”. However, this stress is released by the end when the love interest finally expresses themselves, with the protagonists description as,“He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring And said, "Marry me, Juliet You'll never have to be alone I love you and that's all I really know I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress It's a love story, baby, just say, ‘Yes.’”

I have even heard the dialectical method of thesis against antitheses directly at play before. John Powell’s masterpiece on thematic blending, “Test Drive” from the How to Train Your Dragon Score, is the perfect example. The piece begins with the wildly excited violins, rendering Toothless’ theme, which is characteristic of an untamed dragon. The thesis. This part moves towards a sudden rush of clarity and control from the voice of the french horns, playing Hiccup’s theme, which is characteristic of the dragon rider. The antithesis. This causes a period of extreme dissonance and disorder which gradually approaches the climax of the song, a glorious and unforgettable synthesis of the themes together in triumph.

Music and philosophy, then, are in the most basic sense, disciplines of colliding worlds which hope for agreement and compromise. They have been made to tell the most fundamental truth of the human experience, the story. As every action, everyday, every year, and every lifetime is just a story, there is nothing quite so relatable.