My approach to philosophers and text in the videos I produce is quite similar to how I teach my classes, and what I do in many of my talks, workshops, and other public events. I don't aim to be original, or even "critical", in my presentations of philosophical texts, thinkers, perspectives, and topics. What status I may have - or rather that people attribute to me - as a reliable interpreter of these philosophical matters seems to stem from one main characteristic of my approach.
My main concern is presenting the philosopher's ideas, as much as possible in his or her own words, adapted and applied for people of the present. My goal is always to direct them towards engagement with the philosopher and his or her texts. It's not to engage in my own schtick, to supplement my own views in place of the thinker, or to impose my own opinions upon the audience. What I want to do - to the degree my expertise permits - is create a space in which the audience, the philosopher, and his or her arguments and ideas come into productive contact with each other.
One visual metaphor for the contrast between what I strive to do and what many other presenters do instead would run along these lines. One way to present another philosopher's views is to take a look at what their perspective depicts, and then to provide one's own version of it as adequate substitute. Maybe it's a simplifying summary of key points they take to be important. Maybe it's a critical analysis highlighting where the philosopher went wrong. Perhaps they even attribute to the philosopher not what the philosopher actually said, but what the present-day interpreter thinks they meant or ought to have said. This is sort of like taking a look at a great work of art, sketching out one's own work along those lines, and then handing it to the person interested in the artist's work and saying: here you go. I summed it up. Or, I fixed it.
Following that analogy, my natural tendency runs along different lines. I'm sure I lapse into substituting one poorer image in place of the richer original in places. But for the most part - at least I hope - my work functions more like a window, or if you like, a telescope. I try to keep myself out of the way as much as possible, thereby leaving more space for the philosophical author and his or her text to occupy attention.
If we were to think about interpretation and teaching using a different set of images, you might say that everything depends on where I position myself in relation to the learner and the person learned from - the thinker I am interpreting.
A lot of teachers, content producers, and presenters place themselves in between the audience and, say, Plato, or Rene Descartes, or Mary Wollstonecraft. They can tell you (hopefully) what it is that the thinker said, what is important about it, what it means, and so forth. And they do this by interposing themselves as a middleman between you and them.
I'm sure I inevitably do some of that myself. But my goal is to be on the side, so to speak. I want the audience, the student, the reader, the life-long learner to directly engage the primary texts, the thinkers themselves, with me just alongside, making introductions, helping out as an interpreter, prompting the right questions. But ultimately, if I can help the person approaching philosophy get to the point where I'm no longer needed in the conversation, that's a success
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