Image of Amancay Tapia by Marta Musial

It’s funny how life sometimes comes full circle. Almost a year ago, I sat in front of a camera and recorded a video about something that’s been a quiet thread in my life for ages: the value of philosophy. Looking back now, it feels more urgent — and more necessary — than ever. Watch video here

When I was in high school, I had actual philosophy lessons. I wasn’t just reading random memes or Instagram quotes — I studied the classics with teachers who had degrees in philosophy. We wrestled with Socrates and Plato, we questioned assumptions, and we read stuff that was supposed to make us think. That wasn’t just education — it was a kind of mental training that’s helped me deal with so much since then. Critical thinking, self-reflection, resilience towards confusion — those aren’t buzzwords; they’re life tools. 

It’s strange how life tests instincts you formed years earlier.

I remember when celebrities like Oprah helped elevate figures like Deepak Chopra into the mainstream. He was presented as a spiritual authority — calm voice, mystical language, polished ideas about consciousness and higher awareness. And people bought it. The aesthetic of wisdom. The performance of depth.

But I never felt it.

Maybe it was my background in philosophy. I had read thinkers who built arguments brick by brick. I knew what intellectual weight felt like. And a lot of what was being sold in the New Age celebrity circuit felt vague — emotionally appealing, yes, but structurally hollow.

Then the Epstein scandal erupted. Emails and associations surfaced in public reporting that were deeply uncomfortable to read. Conversations that revealed a tone and familiarity that didn’t match the enlightened persona so carefully curated in public. Apologies followed. Explanations followed.

And that was the moment the mask slipped — not just for one individual, but for an entire culture of celebrity spirituality.

Because here’s the truth: wisdom isn’t a vibe. It isn’t a brand. It isn’t something you perform on a talk show sofa.

Real philosophy demands moral seriousness. It demands intellectual rigor. It demands consistency between what you say and how you live.

When scandal exposes cracks in someone’s character, it forces a simple question: was there ever real depth there — or just language designed to impress an audience that didn’t ask hard questions?

That’s why philosophy matters.

Not to make us sound clever.
Not to give us comforting slogans.
But to train us to recognise the difference between substance and performance.

And in a world obsessed with gurus, that difference is everything.

Philosophy isn’t some dusty academic relic — it’s a tool for clarity. The Greeks didn’t just ask abstract questions for fun. They were carving out the groundwork for how to think, reason, and live. The word philosophy literally means “love of wisdom” — and that’s something everyone can benefit from. 

People talk a lot about mental health these days — and don’t get me wrong, good therapy can be incredibly valuable. But philosophy offers something that’s timeless: the ability to stand on your own mind. Not because you reject help or community, but because you learn how to think for yourself, how to question your assumptions, and how to make sense of your internal world without being buffeted by every external trend or viral opinion. 

Not everyone can afford a counsellor. Not everyone even wants to talk to one. But everyone can think. And that’s what philosophy gives you: the mental muscle to engage with life’s challenges without constantly outsourcing your answers to influencers or algorithms.

At its core, philosophy teaches you how to navigate uncertainty. Who am I? What do I value? How should I act? What even is truth? — these are questions we all bump into, whether we like it or not. Philosophy doesn’t tell you exactly what to think — it teaches you how to think. 

So why do we need philosophy now?
Because we live in a world overflowing with information, noise, belief systems, and instant experts — and yet, so many of us feel lost, confused, or pulled in every direction. Philosophy isn’t a luxury anymore. It’s a grounding practice for navigating a chaotic intellectual landscape.