I would not underestimate the value of synthesizing the correct parts of philosophy vs. being exposed to a lot of philosophy.
The Bayesian epistemology stuff looks like something I should look into. The central logic of Hume was intuitively obvious to me, philosophy of math doesn't strike me as important once you convince yourself that you're allowed to do math, philosophy of science isn't important once you understand epistemology, personal identity isn't important except as it plays into ethics, which is too hard.
I'm interested in the fact that you seem to suggest that the decision theory stuff is cutting-edge level. Since that is the part I spend the most time thinking and talking about, is my activity relatively less susceptible to the scholastic critique? Is there academic philosophy that has things to say to TDT, UDT, and so on?
Since that is the part I spend the most time thinking and talking about, is my activity relatively less susceptible to the scholastic critique?
No, it makes you more susceptible- if you're actually working on a problem in the field that's all the more reason to know the scholarly work.
Is there academic philosophy that has things to say to TDT, UDT, and so on?
Obviously, since TDT and UDT were invented like two years ago and haven't been published, academic philosophy says nothing directly about them. But there is a pretty robust literature on Causal ...
Eliezer Yudkowsky identifies scholarship as one of the Twelve Virtues of Rationality:
I think he's right, and I think scholarship doesn't get enough praise - even on Less Wrong, where it is regularly encouraged.
First, consider the evangelical atheist community to which I belong. There is a tendency for lay atheists to write "refutations" of theism without first doing a modicum of research on the current state of the arguments. This can get atheists into trouble when they go toe-to-toe with a theist who did do his homework. I'll share two examples:
The lesson I take from these and a hundred other examples is to employ the rationality virtue of scholarship. Stand on the shoulders of giants. We don't each need to cut our own path into a subject right from the point of near-total ignorance. That's silly. Just catch the bus on the road of knowledge paved by hundreds of diligent workers before you, and get off somewhere near where the road finally fades into fresh jungle. Study enough to have a view of the current state of the debate so you don't waste your time on paths that have already dead-ended, or on arguments that have already been refuted. Catch up before you speak up.
This is why, in more than 1000 posts on my own blog, I've said almost nothing that is original. Most of my posts instead summarize what other experts have said, in an effort to bring myself and my readers up to the level of the current debate on a subject before we try to make new contributions to it.
The Less Wrong community is a particularly smart and well-read bunch, but of course it doesn't always embrace the virtue of scholarship.
Consider the field of formal epistemology, an entire branch of philosophy devoted to (1) mathematically formalizing concepts related to induction, belief, choice, and action, and (2) arguing about the foundations of probability, statistics, game theory, decision theory, and algorithmic learning theory. These are central discussion topics at Less Wrong, and yet my own experience suggests that most Less Wrong readers have never heard of the entire field, let alone read any works by formal epistemologists, such as In Defense of Objective Bayesianism by Jon Williamson or Bayesian Epistemology by Luc Bovens and Stephan Hartmann.
Or, consider a recent post by Yudkowsky: Working hurts less than procrastinating, we fear the twinge of starting. The post attempts to make progress against procrastination by practicing single-subject phenomenology, rather than by first catching up with a quick summary of scientific research on procrastination. The post's approach to the problem looks inefficient to me. It's not standing on the shoulders of giants.
This post probably looks harsher than I mean it to be. After all, Less Wrong is pretty damn good at scholarship compared to most communities. But I think it could be better.
Here's my suggestion. Every time you're tempted to tackle a serious question in a subject on which you're not already an expert, ask yourself: "Whose giant shoulders can I stand on, here?"
Usually, you can answer the question by doing the following:
There are so many resources for learning available today, the virtue of scholarship has never in human history been so easy to practice.