Introduction: Philosophy Versus the Productivity Imperative

In the 21st century, the drumbeat of productivity is ever-present. From the rise of digital workflows to the proliferation of self-improvement mantras, society relentlessly pursues efficiency, output, and measurable achievement. In this climate, activities that do not produce immediate, quantifiable results are often considered secondary—or even wasteful. Among the pursuits vulnerable to this mindset, philosophy stands out. It is inherently reflective, inquisitive, and deeply invested in questioning, often without the promise of direct application.

But can you still be a philosopher in such a world?

To explore this question, it is instructive to look backward, particularly at early modern women philosophers. Living in times and cultures that, much like ours, frequently dismissed their contributions and questioned their “usefulness,” these thinkers forged paths of profound inquiry amid societal pressures. Their experiences and writings—often at the intersection of the philosophical and the practical—illuminate both the challenge and the necessity of thinking deeply, even in a world obsessed with productivity.

Early Modern Women Philosophers: Thinking Beyond Utility

Societal Constraints and Intellectual Resistance

The early modern period (roughly the 17th and 18th centuries) was a time of epic transformation in philosophy, science, and politics. Yet, while luminaries like Descartes, Locke, and Kant dominated the canonical narratives, women philosophers often toiled in relative obscurity. Their intellectual labor, doubly marginalized by gender and the prevailing pursuit of “practical” knowledge, was frequently dismissed as “unproductive.”

Consider Margaret Cavendish (1623-1673), Duchess of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Despite ridicule and exclusion from the Royal Society, Cavendish produced philosophical treatises, poetry, and plays that interrogated nature, gender roles, and the very nature of knowledge. Her Observations upon Experimental Philosophy (1666) challenged authoritative systems and asserted the value of speculative thought. For Cavendish, philosophy was not only a way to understand the world, but also a mode of resistance—a refusal to be constrained within a narrowly defined, “productive” framework.

Elisabeth of Bohemia (1618-1680), another formidable figure, corresponded with René Descartes, posing deeply challenging questions about the mind-body relationship—questions that Descartes himself struggled to answer. Elisabeth’s philosophical tenacity, visible in her letters, forced a leading philosopher to reconsider the practical and metaphysical implications of his ideas. Her work reminds us that critical inquiry, even when not immediately productive, shapes the course of philosophical discourse.

Anne Conway (1631-1679), with her Principles of the Most Ancient and Modern Philosophy, offered original metaphysical theories that anticipated later debates in process philosophy and idealism. Conway’s writing, often dismissed in her lifetime, illustrates how philosophical reflection can open entirely new avenues of thought—not through the production of commodities or policies, but via deep intellectual engagement.

Philosophy’s Enduring Value: Beyond Results

These women, and others like Damaris Cudworth Masham, Mary Astell, and Emilie du Châtelet, fought not just for inclusion in philosophical discourse, but also for the very legitimacy of philosophy as a human activity. In a world increasingly oriented toward utility and output, they represent a counter-current: the conviction that some things are valuable not because they are productive, but because they are true, just, or beautiful.

Their contributions, many of which were only recognized centuries later, challenge the notion that immediate productivity is the sole measure of worth. Instead, their writings exemplify philosophy’s unique power to influence thought, social structures, and scientific inquiry over the long term—a form of productivity that extends far beyond the metrics favored by their contemporaries, or even by our own.

Lessons from the Past: Philosophical Inquiry as a Feminist Practice

The history of early modern women philosophers exposes the limitations of a productivity-centric worldview, especially when it comes to intellectual pursuits. Many of these women were denied formal education, public platforms, and institutional recognition. In resisting these constraints, they modeled a radically different relationship to thinking—one defined not by outcomes, but by the virtues of curiosity, courage, and the relentless pursuit of truth.

For instance, Mary Astell (1666-1731), in her advocacy for women’s education and her critique of marriage, brought philosophical reflection to bear on issues of justice and agency. Astell understood that lasting change—social, political, or personal—requires more than quick fixes or productivity hacks. It demands careful analysis of prevailing assumptions and sustained dialogue about ethical principles.

This ethos resonates profoundly today. Just as the philosophical contributions of early modern women were sidelined in favor of more “productive” endeavors, so too are contemporary acts of reflection often relegated to the margins. In the workplace, education, and even leisure, pausing to think—deeply, critically, and without immediate payoff—can be seen as a luxury, or even a threat to the relentless pace of modern life.

Modern Parallels: Philosophy and the Cult of Efficiency

Contemporary students and scholars face their own pressures to publish, to innovate, and to measure learning in strictly utilitarian terms. University funding, academic promotions, and even public attention often hinge on the perceived “impact” of research. In some ways, it is as difficult now to justify the value of philosophy—and especially philosophical work that doesn’t generate products or policies—as it was in the 17th century.

Yet the legacy of early modern women philosophers provides not just a critique, but also a possible roadmap. By insisting on the validity and necessity of reflective, speculative, and sometimes impractical work, these thinkers show that intellectual life is about more than productivity. Their courage in writing, challenging, and publishing against the odds reminds us that thinking itself is a kind of action—and one that is as necessary today as ever.

Conclusion: Embracing the Unproductive—and the Philosophical

Can you still be a philosopher in a world obsessed with productivity? The answer, gleaned from the lives and works of early modern women philosophers, is a resounding yes. Their example demonstrates that philosophy persists not in spite of, but often because of, its resistance to purely utilitarian frameworks. In defending the intrinsic value of thought, these women carved out spaces—often small, sometimes secretive—in which to deliberate, imagine, and critique.

Today, as we navigate a culture that equates value with results, we might remember Margaret Cavendish's fearless speculation, Elisabeth of Bohemia's incisive questioning, and Mary Astell’s principled advocacy. In their writing and their lives, we see the enduring importance of asking questions, challenging norms, and seeking understanding for its own sake.

If we hope to cultivate a richer intellectual culture—one that values not only what is productive, but also what is thoughtful and transformative—we would do well to heed their lesson. Being a philosopher, even (and especially) in a productivity-obsessed world, is a radical act of hope: a commitment to seeking wisdom, fostering dialogue, and, ultimately, expanding what it means to be human.

For those interested in exploring this tradition further, this website offers a wealth of resources on early modern women philosophers—scholarship, primary texts, and stories of resistance that can inspire anyone willing to think deeply, regardless of the demands of productivity.