Conferences on philosophy have much in common with academic conferences on anything else. But in one way they differ. Amongst philosophers, a lecture often matters less than what follows — ‘Q&A’, the question-and-answer period. That is when the speaker’s arguments and conclusions are put to the test.

Questioners propose counterexamples, allege fallacies, discern ambiguities. In response, the speaker fights for the life of their cherished ideas. Exchanges continue, back and forth, over several turns. The rest of the audience watches and listens keenly, as if following a chess match, trying to work out who’s winning. 

Sometimes a draw is offered with the words “It’s a stand-off” and tacitly accepted; sometimes the chair intervenes to cut short a stalemate. There is a code of signals to the chair: a raised hand means a new question, a raised finger a follow-up on the current point. A serious conference may schedule an hour for Q&A after each talk.

When it comes to the outcome, the chess analogy is misleading, since it suggests that, once the exchange is over, it’s always clear who won. But the rules of argument are much less clear than the rules of chess, and can themselves be disputed, so two sides may disagree on the legitimacy or effect of a move. The chair is no umpire or referee, and doesn’t rule on such matters. There may be no consensus on who had the better of the exchange. Perceptions can depend on prior theoretical commitments. Indeed, the exchange may itself have been partly or wholly on the legitimacy of moves in the lecture.