I go to a weekly “Armchair Philosophers” discussion group, which involves philosophy debates around a topic that changes each week. Most attendees don’t have any formal background in philosophy. and I have volunteered to run a session, which involves writing 4 small passages relating to a topic, each followed by a few discussion questions. I’ve been cracking on with getting that prepared, and I have been wondering what makes a good discussion question, in general?
My background is in the sciences, so I am less experienced with this kind of open ended discussion. It seems tricky to write a question when the best questions wouldn’t have right or wrong answers. This particular context is also difficult because the best questions would facilitate people being able to bring their own situated perspectives into the discussion, despite attendees having quite varied backgrounds; this seems harder than if I were writing questions for a reading group, as that has more of a shared baseline.
Note: I haven’t mentioned my topic because I’m not fishing for specific help for my task, more of a discussion into what makes a good discussion question. Besides overly broad principles like “don’t have questions that have a straightforward yes/no answer”, I am not sure what else there is.
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Most people talk about the Socratic method without ever looking at what Socrates actually did. The classroom version that piles questions on top of questions has nothing to do with him. Socrates was not trying to confuse anyone. He was trying to find where an idea stopped making sense.
In the early dialogues, someone makes a claim. Socrates asks what they mean by it. Then he tests it through examples, counterexamples, and contradictions. The goal is not to win an argument but to find where the reasoning breaks. That moment is what the Greeks called aporia, the point where a person starts to see how little they really know.
Good discussion questions can follow that pattern. Begin with a definition, then test it. What do we mean by virtue? Does that hold true in every case? Can a person act unjustly and still be considered good? If our idea of virtue fails here, what follows from that failure?
Those questions work because they force people to examine how they reason instead of trading personal opinions.
Peter Murphy’s “Socrates the Python” captures more of the man’s spirit than most textbooks ever manage. The song feels like a voice coming from the same inner place Socrates described. Murphy sings, “He listens to the voice inside, the whisper that will not lie.” That is the daimonion speaking, the quiet signal that stops him when he is about to follow a false path. Another line says, “His tongue is sharp, his words are slow.” That image fits the patient way Socrates worked through the streets of Athens, testing every claim until only what was solid remained. Murphy turns him into a figure half prophet and half philosopher, driven by the need to keep asking the question that still waits for an answer. That is what the real method was about: not clever debate, but the stubborn pursuit of truth through conversation.
