The focus of this blog

I decided to change the name of this blog from “LePortology”—which sounded kind of “cool” but also a little pretentious, especially since I’m hardly offering anything like a system of thought that can be tied to my name—to “The blog of Brian LePort” which is purely descriptive but probably more honest. Besides my concern for unearned hubris, why change the name? Well, how to put it: I’m a person, not a brand. I want to write about what I want to write about. In general, that will continue to be philosophy, religion, theology, and pedagogy, but honestly, sometimes I’m just interested in fatherhood, or events in my home state of California, or where I live now in Texas, or in the United States, in general. Maybe I want to say something cautious about politics (probably not). Maybe I want to share a podcast episode that I think is interesting, but that doesn’t match the “focus” of this blog as it’s been.

It’s not like I have a huge audience who comes to this blog to hear my professional insights on a specific topic! (My old “biblioblog” has been “retired” for over a decade and still it gets far more hits that this blog does! For example, it got 66 view yesterday while this one got…7.) I write this blog for myself. I write here because I like to write. I write here so I can “see” my thoughts. I write here because writing is an art and it’s fun to play with words, and then touch up those words to see if what I said can be said more clearly or more interestingly.

In the modern world of social media, there’s a focus on building a platform, gaining an audience, and monetizing it all. I can’t judge. The old blog that I just mentioned opened a lot of door for me, made me connections, got me free books, and even earned me a little bit of money for a time. I mean, nothing like a TikTok influencer or podcaster now, but it had its perks. And I think that there remains something to having a focus and a theme, which is why I’ve started my Substack “Philosophy of Human Flourishing”. It gives me something to hone in on. But also, I just like writing, and I like thinking, and those two work well together for me, so I want this blog to be a place where I can combine those two activities freely.

Two forms of thinking: problem-solving and meaning generating

A couple of weeks ago, I finished Svend Brinkmann‘s brilliant little book, Think: In Defence of a Thoughtful Life. In the first chapter (“What do you think?”) he argues that there are two forms of thinking: (1) problem-solving and (2) meaning generating (p. 18). I found this helpful as someone who teaches religion and philosophy in a society that continues to devalue the humanities in favor of STEM. STEM focused on Brinkmann’s “problem-solving” form of thinking. He describes it as “instrumental and intrinsic thinking” that “can either be a tool in service to something else, or an end in itself with (intrinsic) value per se.” He gives examples of the “instrumental” and “intrinsic” form of “problem-solving” style thinking (p. 19). For “instrumental” he says, “For example, choosing the right recruit after a job interview”. For intrinsic, he says, “For example, doing a crossword”.

The “instrumental” approach to “problem-solving” thinking solves a problem in service to something else. This style of thinking is done in order to choose the right person for the job for the benefit of the company that’s doing the hiring. On the other hand, the “intrinsic” approach would include, as with the example, doing a crossword or another puzzle. I have a colleague who plays the New York Times’ game “Wordle” almost religiously. He is solving a problem for the pure enjoyment of solving the problem. There’s no other end.

My colleagues who teach math, science, and for the most part, Innovation and Design, are helping students learn to value instrumental thinking. This is a valuable skill. And it’s a skill our society values. But it’s not the only style of thinking nor is it the only style of thinking that’s valuable.

Brinkmann’s second style is “meaning generation”. He uses the example of when we “think back” on a situation that was formative in our lives in order to better understand it. This approach to thinking “is related to daydreaming and reverie” (p. 18). This means it can be “proactive” as much as “retroactive” thinking.

Brinkmann writes (p. 18):

“Thinking as meaning generation doesn’t need to be about our life, but can be about more general existential or cosmological questions: Is there a God? Is the universe infinite? Is there life after death? What would the ideal society look like? From where does the experience of beauty stem? Do we have a duty to forgive? What is love?”

When we think on these things, “the point is not to ‘solve the problem’ and move on, but to let our minds wander and mull them over.” The examples Brinkmann gives for “meaning generation” style thinking include “instrumental” and “intrinsic” examples as well (p. 19). For “instrumental” he says, “For example, writing an exam essay about your future”. For “intrinsic” he says, “For example, reflecting freely on the meaning of life”. We may write the essay in order to help us think clearly about what we want to do to shape the life we want to live. But we may reflect on the meaning of life for the sole purpose that we want to consider what all of this means. Meaning is inherently valuable just like the joy of solving problems can be.

Brinkmann argues that “children tend to learn—and master—problem-solving before meaning generation”. His claim is that meaning generation “requires maturity and depth beyond the reach of children” and that “Philosophical thoughtfulness calls for a more mature intellect” (p. 20). I want to say “yes” and “no” to this because I do think children can begin participating in meaning generation though I get what he’s saying.

While both styles are important, it makes me wonder: what does it say about our society that we’ve placed such heavy emphasis only on one style. The humanities are dying. Fewer college students are majoring in humanities related fields. I’m convinced that this is good for capitalism but detrimental to democracy. We need a society that can invent and make and fix. We need a society that can solve problems like climate change and cancer. But for our own mental health, collective well-being, and the common good, we need people to think about why we do what we do, why we want what we want, where we want to go and what we want to become. If a society can do things but they can’t explain why any of it is meaningful outside of capitalist terms such as wealth and employment, I fear we’re headed for ruin. I get it: before someone commits to student loans and majoring in a field of study for four to six years, they want to know that there will be a paycheck on the other side. This is practical and wise. But our lives can’t be just about our work. It can’t be just about our careers. Honestly, that benefits only those at the highest point of our economic class system. The rest of us better learn to ask what it is that gives meaning to our lives outside the 9-5.

I worry that there’s reason why cultural forces want us to participate in only one form of thinking as a society; why our government, universities, wealthy elite, and others tell us that we need to do something “practical” that’s a “real job” and my hunch is that they don’t want us to stop and ask ourselves “why” we are doing what we’re doing; why we’re pouring our energies into “problem-solving” while ignoring “meaning generation”. I think that if more of us stopped to participate in “meaning generation” it may lead us to reevaluate how we spend the several short decades of our life on this planet.

Why do I blog?

Blogging may be an outdated form of media. I don’t think it’s dead like say MySpace. There remain many popular blogs out there. I presume their readership is mostly Gen X and older Millennials. But even if it isn’t dead, it’s not popular. You don’t start a blog in 2024 if you want to get a message to the masses. You get on TikTok, I presume.

The most “relevant” social media platform with which I engage is Instagram. Facebook is ads mixed with sadness, though it’s how I remain connected to many people. Threads is coming alive but nothing I share seems interesting to the people on there…or the algorithm! “X” is scary. I left that dystopia long ago. I’m not going to touch something like Snapchat. And though I have peers who have done well with TikTok, I’m not interested.

This is because I don’t blog for a big audience. I blog to keep myself writing with frequency. I blog because unlike keeping a private Word document to record my thoughts, occasionally people can read what I write here, enjoy it, share it, and even respond to it. But I don’t look for that sort of response in the same way social media influencers do. It’s more like when blogging first began in the late 2000s and there was the joy of being able to write and be read by a handful of people with similar interests. That was my favorite part of blogging culture and it remains so.

It’s funny because for a long while, I had a blog that was very popular by blog standards. I know these stats don’t match the stats someone might get on YouTube or TikTok but my most “successful” blog has seen almost 1.5 millions views in its lifetime and about a half-a-million unique visitors. There was a day when over seven thousand people visited back in 2013.

This blog was central to me finding my way when I moved to San Antonio. One person who read it, Greg Richards, directed “College Missions” for the Diocese of West Texas of the Episcopal Church (for whom I work indirectly now). He was my first connection with the denomination that is tied to the school where I work and he was one of the people who wrote me a recommendation when I applied for the job I’ve had for more than eight years now. Another person was Dr. Rubén Dupertuis at Trinity University here in town. He gave me two opportunities to be a “Teaching Intern” which helped my resume. Also, he wrote me a recommendation letter. So, my old blog helped me network somewhere new. This networking helped me find the job that I have now. I’m grateful for that old blog!

I had a few other blogs that started, failed to gain any readership, and/or were closed because I gave up on the theme upon which it was anchored. (For example, when I was on the doorstep of leaving Pentecostalism permanently, I abandoned a blog with the clever name “Azusa Remixed” that tried to gather together Pentecostal and Pentecostal-friendly but also forward thinking writers to talk about a future for Pentecostalism. When I knew my vision wasn’t going to match reality, and that reality was that I didn’t belong in Pentecostal circles anymore, I shut down the project. On a side note, the old saying that the Internet doesn’t forget isn’t true. If you google “Azusa Remixed” you’ll find nothing about my blog that I can see though there’s some connection to an anime character!)

I think Twitter was the beginning of the end of blogging supremacy as a novel way to communicate on the still young Internet. Now it’s something older people like me do. My old blog sits there without a new contribution since 2014 but it still gets about four times as many visitors every week as my current one. If you’re a reader of this blog, I’m grateful for you but clearly “readership” in the abstract isn’t my goal. My goal is to process my thoughts through writing. Blogging was the method of writing that has been the most successful at helping me develop consistency. So, because I value the connection between writing and thinking, and blogging helps me maintain that connection, I continue to blog.