If your first language isn’t English (especially if you think your English sucks), but you’re thinking of studying (some) philosophy in England (it’s even better if you don’t exactly know what “philosophy” is but just think it sounds cool), this is for you. I’m writing this because it’s something I wish I had known before actually studying philosophy at university. At least, I have never found anything like this.
About Me
Before I say anything about how studying philosophy feels, I think it’s only fair to briefly introduce myself so you can understand more about my background. I’m graduating from a mid-ranking English university with a BA Philosophy, Politics and Economics (PPE) degree in the summer of 2025. And, I’m originally from Hong Kong, born and bred. I wasn’t someone who achieved academic excellence at school, and I went to a Band 2 secondary school. In Hong Kong, secondary schools are categorised into three bands: Band 1 is highly selective and has the highest academic performance in public exams, while Band 3 is the opposite. So, I wasn’t one of the gifted kids. I was just a middle-range, random average student (Okay, if you still don’t believe me, click here to access my writing five years ago).
Most Band 1 secondary schools adopt English as the medium of instruction, so students learn everything in English, excluding Chinese and Chinese History. In my school, although I still had the opportunity to study most subjects in English in my junior forms for three years, I learnt everything in Chinese (except English) in my senior forms. This, of course, affected my English proficiency. If philosophy is already hard for native English-speaking students (Here I’m referring to analytical philosophy. I’ve never had a formal education in Eastern philosophy, including Chinese philosophy, so I don’t think I can speak to that), then this is even harder for someone like me. You may ask, then, why I chose to study philosophy at university? Honestly, because I was too naive.
Why I Chose PPE (and Philosophy)
At that time, I wanted to study politics. I thought that, living in this world and in this era, I should understand politics, especially considering what has happened in Hong Kong. I also thought writing too many essays would be boring, so I added economics, which I assumed would be easier for me since my maths isn’t too bad. Philosophy? I didn’t really know. I just thought it might supplement my understanding of politics and make my degree less boring by allowing the switch between the three subjects. To be honest, back then, I didn’t even know what Philosophy was, apart from the literal meaning “love of wisdom”. Compared to my white British classmate who once told me he read an 800+ page book on Chinese philosophy over the summer, I probably knew less than he did. Even in Chinese philosophy, something I should know better than him. Back then, I was definitely a newborn baby in philosophy. I was naive and never imagined how hard or exclusive philosophy could be. I never considered that I might feel like an outsider in the class, or that my English level might not be good enough.
Being A Rare Species
At least in my university, there aren’t many international students who study philosophy or even politics. (Oh, Economics is fine, there are lots of Chinese doing it, and sometimes your English might even be better than some of your PhD seminar tutors), Maybe my university isn’t a very large one. Politics has a few international students, but even fewer take philosophy. And those who do usually have a decent level of English, often because they went to international schools or have studied in the UK for several years, or some others are white Europeans who have a similar cultural background with similar language to English. People like me, who went to a trash secondary school in Hong Kong, where I learnt most things in Chinese? I haven’t met anyone like that. At least not in my course. Even the two other Hong Kong students in PPE were from better schools than mine. In my first year, many modules were compulsory, so things were easier, and I had my Hong Kong friends in the same modules. But from the second year onwards, all of my modules were optional. That meant that in many politics or philosophy classes, I was the only student who wasn’t white British. Even if that wasn’t always the case in lectures, it was often true in seminars, where students are split into smaller groups. When everyone looks the same, shares the same cultural background, and speaks fluent English, it’s easy to feel completely left out. You know you’re the only one who doesn’t understand something, not because the content is too difficult, but because your English isn’t good enough. Seminars are worse than lectures, as they aren’t recorded, so there’s no replay, and you have to respond quickly in discussion. The feeling of not belonging was strongest during my politics lecture in my first semester of the second year.
A Case in My Politics Lecture
It was a lecture in a module called “Can Democracy Work”, and we were discussing national identity. The lecturer said something like, “I assume all of you are British and will be voting in the upcoming general election…”, and then continued to talk about English and Scottish identity. Honestly, I get that it’s hard to remember there’s someone different when there’s only one of them in the room. But deep down, even if you try not to think about it, moments like that remind you, maybe you don’t belong here. Maybe you shouldn’t be in a room full of white British students. And when your lecturer casually assumes everyone is British, it really shows how rare and weird you are.
Why Philosophy Is Even Worse
While I often felt out of place in both politics and philosophy classes, there’s a reason I’m writing specifically about philosophy. In politics, even if you don’t understand every word in classes or readings, you can always guess based on context because it deals with facts and current affairs. Philosophy is different. Examples can be drawn from anything, so you can’t always guess what others are saying. There’s even a saying that you won’t understand a philosophy reading the first time you read it, and it gets clearer the second or third time. This might be true for the native speakers. For someone like me? You might need one or two more rounds, plus lots of time looking up unfamiliar words in the dictionary!
Also, philosophy papers are heavily embedded in Western culture. If you didn’t grow up in that context like me, you won’t understand all the examples used in different papers. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t even know what Jack the Ripper was when I first came to university (in case you don’t know, Jack the Ripper was a famous serial killer in Victorian London, and he appears as an example in many philosophy papers). I am not joking, sometimes I have to Google things just to understand more about the examples. For instance, not long ago, I was writing an essay on Frege for my Foundations of Maths module. I had to read a paper by Hale and Wright, which mentioned an idea by Dummett (Don’t worry, what they are arguing is not important. In fact, I don’t exactly know who Frege was before going to university, so that’s ok). The Hale and Wright paper was already super tough, and I had to spend countless hours on it. Anyway, Dummett used an example with “Dr Jekyll” and “Mr Hyde”. I kept wondering why he used such weird, complex names until my curiosity finally made me Google it. That’s when I finally found out about a famous Gothic horror novel called “Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde”, even though I still don’t know what the story is about, to be honest.
My Honest Experience
Despite philosophy being inherently challenging, my first year was relatively fine. Most modules were easier (at least compared to later years), and they were mostly compulsory, so I had some Hong Kong friends taking them with me. But things got much harder in the second year. That year, I took a super tough module called “Logic and Paradox”. Don’t even ask me why I chose such a hardcore module. Most of my friends avoided the more abstract topics and took ethics or other more practical modules instead; however, I thought those were boring, and since I already had to take some political philosophy modules for my politics part, I decided to go deeper into theoretical philosophy.
Anyway, Logic and Paradox is already hard for native students. For me, it was nearly impossible and soon became my nightmare. From the Sorites paradox to the Liar Paradox, I barely understood anything in lectures. Seminars were even worse because they weren’t recorded. Even though I attended the lecture, I still had to slow down lecture replays to 0.75x speed to follow along. I tried to do the readings before the seminars, but I couldn’t make sense of them, even though I spent way more time translating unfamiliar words than most people. So, I often had nothing to say in seminars. I couldn’t follow what others were saying either. In politics seminars, you can often guess what people are trying to say. But in philosophy, people can say everything, and you never know where the discussion will go. In every seminar, I didn’t feel like I should be there. I didn’t even know why I was in the room.
But somehow, I kept going. Not because I was confident, but because I didn’t want to surrender. I play competitive dodgeball (not just for fun, but seriously), and I translated that into my studies. What I was thinking is, even if you know your opponent is stronger, you won’t forfeit the match without playing. You might still lose (and chances are high), but at least you step onto the court and give it your best. This is exactly how I survived that module. Looking back, I think that mindset was what kept me moving forward and steadily improving. And it made a difference. I now find myself understanding readings faster and looking up fewer words. Sometimes I even doubt myself about how I understood that so quickly. It still surprises me. But with time and effort, I really do feel like I’ve genuinely become better at philosophy.
Should I Do Philosophy at an English Uni?
If you are an international student with poor English, studying philosophy in England means facing both academic difficulty and the experience of marginalisation. It’s cruel that philosophy demands precise and clear expression, unlike Economics, which is more quantitative. That makes it very hard if your English isn’t strong.
I once saw a post on discuss.com.hk (Hong Kong’s version of Reddit, although it’s kinda outdated now like Facebook) suggesting a test to try before committing to philosophy at university. I think it’s a good one, so maybe give it a go (Although if I’d taken this test before uni, I would’ve 100% failed. Sadly, I only saw it during my first year). The idea is simple. Read a short entry on the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (SEP) and read it for five minutes (please click here for the full passage). Then ask yourself:
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- Can you understand everything within those five minutes? If not, you’re reading too slowly.
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- Can you understand everything without using a dictionary? If not, then your English isn’t good enough.
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- And if you do understand, you should be able to paraphrase them. If you need more than ten minutes to do that, then maybe you’re not good enough at organisation.
If you pass all of that, I think there’s a very good chance you’ll survive studying philosophy at university. But if not, I am not saying you can’t do it. Just be prepared for a difficult journey. To be honest, I didn’t even know SEP existed before uni, but I still made it. The road is just harder without a solid foundation. So, if you genuinely find philosophy interesting, go for it. I’m not writing this to scare you off, but to give you a realistic picture.
What Philosophy Is To Me
Philosophy is already hard. Doing it in a foreign country, in your second language, is even harder. And if you, like me, are drawn to the more theoretical side, it’s even harder, since they are always even more difficult to understand. I don’t know if there are any other girls like me. I’ve been here almost three years, and I still haven’t met anyone who shares my background. Most of the time, I don’t even know who I am or why I’m doing this. But I don’t hate philosophy. I kind of enjoy it. Before studying it, I never found anything else that could challenge me this much. This is something I might never fully understand, but still want to keep trying. If I hadn’t studied philosophy, if I’d stuck to politics and economics for an easier life, I don’t think I’d be the person I am now. Philosophy taught me to think more deeply and question the world around me. I’m not trying to put anyone off philosophy by writing this, but I just want to show what’s behind the scenes. I don’t know everything. I’m only sharing this based on my own experience, and I can’t say what other universities are like. This is just what the past three years were like for me.
If you’re someone like me, whether you’ve graduated, are currently studying, or are about to go to uni, feel free to reach out. Whether you’re looking for a connection or just have questions, I’m happy to talk.