For some, philosophers belong to a bygone era, with the philosophy they engage in being an abstract pursuit filled with questions that have little relevance to the real world. It sometimes seems like while we navigate careers and relationships, philosophers are given the license to debate the abstract and unknowable. With wit and clarity, John Armstrong obliterated this notion and showed me how philosophy is not only alive but essential in today’s fast-moving world, offering us the tools to think deeply and reconnect with the ideas that shape our lives.

Growing up in Glasgow, John found himself in a culture that prioritised academic success, but not intellectual curiosity: “It mattered if you got good exam results, but that was just because you would eventually get a job as a doctor or a lawyer.” It was at Oxford in the mid-1980’s where he encountered a world where discussions about art and philosophy were not only encouraged but celebrated. “When I got to Oxford, I realised that there were lots of other people around who really wanted to talk about 19th century philosophy, art or poetry – and that these things had currency; that this was what people were excited about and what they valued in other people.”

And yet, like many of us, John didn’t know what was next for him. “I remember one day where I almost fell over in the street with horror when I realised that I would actually have find a job.” After Oxford, John began a series of jobs – filing paperwork at an insurance company, working as a waiter, and doing telephone sales. It was only after a master’s at Birkbeck and a doctorate at University College London, that he discovered a passion for philosophy that would define his career and lead to a bibliography that covered topics such as Nietzsche, love, art, and money.

“I almost fell over in the street with horror when I realised that I would actually have find a job”

And yet, John found himself as a philosopher in a world vastly different from the one in which philosophers like Plato or Kant operated. “There was a vision that you had to present yourself as a reasonable, rational, well-informed, culturally cultivated person.” John smiles slightly as he says, “if you went to a dinner party and you didn’t know the difference between Beethoven and Mozart, it would be deeply embarrassing.” Until the late 20th century, those who had intellectual and artistic pursuits enjoyed a privileged status - high culture was revered, with even political leaders engaging deeply with philosophy. “Michael Foot, who led the Labour Party in the 1980s, once wrote a small pamphlet and was able to buy a house with the proceeds,” a concept completely alien to us some 40 years later.

There is a phenomenon of people who are anti-intellectual, or, in John’s words, state “I don’t see what the philosopher or the writer is trying to offer me, and I am getting very bored here.” Likewise, some of those who consume art find themselves thinking “oh, I’m supposed to like this – this is a famous and important painting and so I must bow down before it because it stands for some idea of fame or genius.” John diagnoses the reason behind these attitudes as because “the defenders of high culture have been really bad at it.” John continues, “I remember encountering art historians who were obsessed with what year the painting was painted in. Questions like that totally forget that the world might lose interest in what they were doing. We should be asking ‘why might we love this? ’”

“If you can make Bob Dylan compelling again to a younger generation, why not Tolstoy?”

And so, what is the role of the philosopher within this world? “To re-intellectualise things.” “If you want to promote intellectual pursuits, then you are going to have to think hard about what it is you’re offering people, and how to offer it.” One example is his and Alan de Botton’s ‘The School of Life’, an initiative that seeks to make philosophy accessible and practical. It’s a “modest attempt” that, through books, YouTube videos, and articles, bridges the gap between abstract ideas and everyday concerns.

But re-intellectualisation can exist beyond that. Our conversation soon led onto discussions regarding the biopic ‘A Complete Unknown’. The movie, which is leading to a generation discovering Bob Dylan, led to John getting physically more animated as he began to see the potential in this reaction: “If you can make Bob Dylan compelling again to a younger generation, why not Tolstoy? It’s all about how you tell the story.”

John reflects, “What really interests me is the intimate connection you feel with art. Why does a painting move you or grip your imagination – why can a painting you have never heard about be terribly important to you? I love that.”

This is where philosophy can reclaim its relevance — not by demanding that people admire it out of obligation, but by reigniting curiosity and showing its power to change how we see the world. As long as people still seek meaning, still long to understand themselves and the world around them, philosophy will have a place. But it must be told in ways that resonate. It must, as John puts it, “tell a story.”

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