"Irving Thalberg Jr., born rich of Hollywood royalty, chose a low profile and a life of the mind."
I recall reading this years ago. Keith Burgess-Jackson, blogger buddy from way back, reminded me of it this morning.
"Irving Thalberg Jr., born rich of Hollywood royalty, chose a low profile and a life of the mind."
I recall reading this years ago. Keith Burgess-Jackson, blogger buddy from way back, reminded me of it this morning.
Nathaniel T. writes,
In the new year, I'm committing to some more regular reading habits.What serious books would you recommend to someone outside academia who has about half an hour uninterrupted in the morning to read, three times a week? How about a list that would last that person a year?Here are some additional parameters that might aid in your selection:I went to St. John's College in Annapolis, so I've read many of the "greats" in whole or in part, at least once. I have kept up some serious reading since my graduation in 2012, just irregularly.
I already pray and read the New Testament and spiritual reading daily.Thanks for your insight and writing!
To dismiss Hegel is as bad as to dismiss Donald Davidson. On second thought, it is far worse. For you cannot understand Marx without understanding Hegel, and you cannot understand the current culturally Marxist, 'woke' mess we are in without understanding Marx and his successors. Davidson & Co. can be safely ignored if it is the latter understanding you are after.
Ideas, whether true or false, whether rationally defensible or indefensible, have social and cultural consequences. Short-sighted folk dismiss philosophy as so much hot air. But when the 'air' of such Luftmenschen as Hegel, Marx, and Nietzsche drifts down from the ivory towers and the garrets and influences the climate on the ground, then things can get 'hot' in a different sense.
The old man's libido may be on the wane, but this man's book lust remains as stiff-standing as ever. I'm reading along in Anthony Kenny's Aquinas on Being and I find a footnote in which he praises a certain Hermann Weidemann's article contained in a certain anthology. I think, "Oh boy, when I am in Tempe on Friday I'll snag that volume from the Arizona State University library."
In the bookman's eros we descry the superiority of the spirit over the flesh. The pleasures of the mind can extend for decades, from earliest youth to advanced old age. But not even the artifices of a Hugh Hefner can help those enmired in the dotage and decrepitude of the flesh.
At the end, even stoked to the max with Viagra to the point of hearing loss, Hef couldn't get it up sufficiently to penetrate the young lovelies who cavorted around him. He was reduced to manual mode while the bunnies romped with each other exchanging intimacies I charitably imagine to be more innocently sororal than libidinously lesbian.
Here is a statement that is not only extreme but also manifestly false:
In fact, you could wipe society’s table clear of every writer, artist, actor, musician, professor, dancer, reporter, tastemaker, producer, influencer, teacher, lobbyist, politician, everyone on TV, everyone who doesn’t get their hands dirty, and our world would keep turning just fine.
If there were no trucks, there would be no truckers. If there were no automotive technology, there would be no trucks. If there were no engineering (applied physical science), there would be no automotive technology. If there were no theoretical physics, there would be no applied science. If there were no pure mathematics, there would be no theoretical physics (in the technologically implemental, post-Galilean sense of the term). If there were no people who never got their hands dirty, there would be no pure mathematics. And there would be none of this if there were no philosophers.
It all began with philosophy, the attempt to know man and world by the use of reason applied to the data of experience. If there were no philosophers, we would still be retailing cosmogonic myths.
And if there were no philosophers like me, there would be no one to explain all of this to you, something I have just done, in an admittedly inadequate bloggity-blog sort of way, without getting my hands dirty.
That being said, I fully support the peaceful and eminently democratic protests of the Canadian truckers and their American confreres.
And I heartily condemn the anti-democratic fascists of the Left, both here and to the North, who use the power of the State to suppress individual liberty, and then engage in the Orwellian subversion of language to cover their tracks and gaslight the citizenry.
For example, the foolish Justin Trudeau, prime minister of Canada, claims that the trucker protests are racist. But what does race have to do with them? Nothing. When he's done misusing 'racist,' he will go on to misuse 'domestic terrorist' and 'insurrectionist.' What sort of person is terrorized by the blaring of horns? What does terrorism and insurrection have to do with these legitimate and eminently democratic peaceful protests? Nothing.
And isn't Trudeau famous for his asseveration that "Diversity is our strength"? One who dissents from fascist clamp-down is holding a view diverse from that of the fascists.
In the course of our discursive operations we often encounter circularity. Clarity will be served if we distinguish different types of circularity. I count three types. We could label them definitional, argumentative, and explanatory.
A. The life of the mind often includes the framing of definitions. Now one constraint on a good definition is that it not be circular. A circular definition is one in which the term to be defined (the definiendum) or a cognate thereof occurs in the defining phrase (the definiens). 'A triangle is a plane figure having a triangular shape,' though plainly true, is circular. 'The extension of a term is the set of items to which the term applies' is an example of a non-circular definition.
Ibram X. Kendi, the race 'theorist' currently much-loved by the 'woke,' was recently asked to define 'racism.' He came out with this brilliancy: “A collection of racist policies that lead to racial inequity that are substantiated by racist ideas." Video here.
B. Sometimes we argue. We attempt to support a proposition p by adducing other propositions as reasons for accepting p. Now one constraint on a good argument is that it not be circular. A circular argument in is one in which the conclusion appears among the premises, sometimes nakedly, other times clothed for decency's sake in different verbal dress. Supply your own examples.
C. Sometimes we explain. What is it for an individual x to exist? Suppose you say that for x to exist is for some property to be instantiated. One variation on this theme is to say that for Socrates to exist is for the haecceity property Socrateity to be instantiated. This counts as a metaphysical explanation, and a circular one to boot. For if Socrateity is instantiated, then it is is instantiated by Socrates who must exist to stand in the instantiation relation. The account moves in a circle, an explanatory circle of embarrassingly short diameter.
Suppose someone says that for x to exist is for x to be identical to something or other. They could mean this merely as an equivalence, in which case I have no objection. But if they are shooting for a explanation of existence in terms of identity-with-something-or-other, then they move in an explanatory circle. For if x exists in virtue of its identity with some y, then y must exist, and you have moved in an explanatory circle.
Some philosophers argue that philosophers ought not be in the business of explanation. I beg to differ. But that is a large metaphilosophical topic unto itself.
In my latest Substack article I defend Benatar's courageous pursuit of the truth, not the results of said pursuit.
I am all for intellectual hygiene. But it can be taken to an extreme by a certain sort of analytic philosopher who is afraid to touch anything that might in the least be infected with the murk and messiness of life as she is lived. Such types remind me of neurotic hand-washers and those who, fearful of the Chinese flu, walk around in the open air, alone, in masks.
One needs to work through a text slowly, pondering, comparing, re-reading, reconstructing and evaluating the arguments, raising objections, imagining possible replies and all of this while animated by a burning need to get to the bottom of some pressing existential question. You must bring to your reading questions if you expect study to be profitable.
If one fails to enter into the dialectic of the problems and issues one will come away with little more than a vague literary impression. But real study is hard work demanding aptitude, time, peace, and quiet, a commodity in short supply in these hyperkinetic and cacaphonous times. Back in the day, Arthur Schopenhauer was much exercised by "the infernal cracking of whips" as he he complained in his classic "On Noise." What would he say today? Could he survive in the contemporary crapstorm of cacaphony?
So turn off that cell phone before I smash it to pieces!
How does one acquire a large vocabulary? The first rule is to read, read widely, and read worthwhile materials, especially old books and essays. The second rule is to look up every word the meaning of which you do not know or are not certain of: don't be lazy. The third rule is to compile vocabulary lists. The fourth rule is to review the lists periodically and put the words to use. Use 'em or lose 'em.
But what good is a large vocabulary in a society of semi-literates? Not only is it of little use, it can harm relations with regular guys social intercourse with whom can be useful. Among the latter, one needs to pass oneself off as one of them. Use 'big words' and you will strike them as putting on airs, whether or not you are — not that the semi-literates would understand this old phrase.
While alive to and appreciative of the good in people, one should not overlook the prevalence of the mean, the paltry, the envious, and the resentful. In this joyous season, and in every season.
I write to know my own mind, to actualize my own mind, and to attract a few like-minded and contrary-minded people. The like-minded lend support, and the contrary-minded – assuming that their criticisms are rationally based – allow me to test my ideas.
Dialectic is to the philosopher what experiment is to the scientist.
Chary of embalming in printer's ink ideas that may be unworthy of such preservation, due perhaps to underdevelopment, or lack of originality, or some more egregious defect, the blogger satisfies his urge to scribble and publish without burdening referees and editors and typesetters, and without contributing to the devastation of forests. He publishes all right, but in a manner midway between the ephemerality of talk and the finality of print.
They think that what is not immediately intelligible to them is unintelligible, period, or perhaps even a product of willful obfuscation.
The Australian positivist, David Stove, somewhere takes umbrage at a passage from Heidegger and pronounces it gibberish, when the passage is not gibberish at all. The miserable Stove, unwilling to to do his homework, and with no understanding of Heidegger's intellectual antecedents, dismisses as gibberish what is not immediately intelligible to his shallow positivist pate. He is a trenchant polemicist in some of his writing, so I am simply responding in kind.
I need to find that passage.
But let me say something good about old Stove: he was one formidable opponent of the scourge of political correctness.
There are some interesting materials for and against the curmudgeon in my Stove category.
De mortuis nil nisi bonum? De mortuis bonum et malum.
. . . three's a crowd and four's a cross-conversation.
One-on-one, back-and-forth, defining and refining, pursuing the point, focusing like a laser, driven by eros for truth but free of polemos under the aegis of philia. But also under the aegis of
Amicus Plato, sed magis amica veritas.
And with no illusions about achieving agreement. An attainable goal here below is clarity about differences. "I will teach you differences." (Shakespeare, King Lear, Wittgenstein.)
Reader M.L.P. inquires,
I was wondering what habits one should acquire to study philosophy profitably. I read philosophy books but I tend to forget most of what I read. I also find it hard to come up with my own ideas.
Roughly how many books or articles should one read in a day? Or is this the wrong way to approach the issue?
Should one start by reading ancient philosophy or by familiarizing oneself with current philosophical debates?
And finally, how crucial is it to study philosophy with a mentor? Is it possible to be a good philosopher by studying alone?
A great deal could be said on this topic. Here are a few thoughts that may be helpful. Test them against your own experience. First some general points, then to your specific questions.
1) Make good use of the morning, which is an excellent time for such activities as reading, writing, study, and meditation. But to put the morning to good use, one must arise early. I get up at 1:30, but you needn't be so monkish. Try arising one or two hours earlier than you presently do. That will provide you with a block of quiet time. Fruitful mornings are of course impossible if one's evenings are spent dissipating. You won't be able to spend the early morning thinking and trancing if you spent the night before drinking and dancing. The quality of the morning is directly affected by the quality of the previous evening.
2) Abstain from all mass media dreck in the early morning. Read no newspapers. "Read not The Times, read the eternities." (Thoreau) No electronics. No computer use, telephony, TV, e-mail, etc. Just as you wouldn't pollute your body with whisky and cigarettes upon arising, so too you ought not pollute your pristine morning mind with the irritant dust of useless facts, the palaver of groundless opinions, and every manner of distraction. There is time for that stuff later in the day if you must have it. (And it is a good idea to keep an eye on the passing scene.) The mornings should be kept free and clear for study that promises long-term profit.
3) Although desultory reading is enjoyable, it is best to have a plan. Pick one or a small number of topics that strike you as interesting and important and focus on them. I distinguish between bed reading and desk reading. Such lighter reading as biography and history can be done in bed, but hard-core materials require a desk and such other accessories as pens of various colors for different sorts of annotations and underlinings, notebooks, a cup of coffee, a fine cigar . . . .
4) If you read books of lasting value, you ought to study what you read, and if you study, you ought to take notes. And if you take notes, you owe it to yourself to assemble them into some sort of coherent commentary. What is the point of studious reading if not to evaluate critically what you read, assimilating the good while rejecting the bad?
The forming of the mind is the name of the game. This won't occur from passive reading, but only by an active engagement with the material. The best way to do this is by writing up your own take on it. Here is where blogging can be useful. Since blog posts are made public, your self-respect will give you an incentive to work at saying something intelligent.
5) You say that you forget what you read.
Well, there is little point in learning something that you will forget. The partial cure for this is to read in an active way, with pen in hand. I use pens of different colors for underlining and note-taking. Write key words on the top of the page. Isolate and mark the key passages. Make a glossary on the book's fly leaves. When a book arrives, I note the date of its arrival so that I an track my intellectual biography. At the end of a chapter I note the time and date of my first and subsequent readings of it. Reconstruct the author's arguments in a notebook in your own words. Look up reviews online, print them out, then insert them into the book. A properly annotated book is easy to review, and of course review is essential. Review fixes the material in your mind.
You ask how many books or articles should one read in a day.
I'll use myself as an example. Yesterday, N. Rescher's Aporetics arrived. I read and annotated the first chapter this morning slowly and carefully. Then I sketched a blog post in my handwritten journal that was inspired by Rescher's chapter. Then I went back to Palle Yourgrau's Death and Nonexistence which I am working through and mulled over a few pages of that. These activities took me from 2:00 am to 3:35. Then 45 minutes of formal meditation. Then I logged on and put up a couple or three Facebook posts. Around 5:20 I was out the door for an hour on the mountain bike. The main thing is to read and write every single day.
You ask whether one should start by reading the ancients or by studying current debates.
You could do either, as long as you do the other. You need to have some issue, problem, or question that you need to get clear about. Perhaps you want to understand knowledge in its relation to truth, belief, and justification. Contemporary sources will give you some idea of the relevant questions. Armed with these, you can profitably read Plato's Theaetetus.
You ask whether you need a mentor.
No, but it helps to find one or more intelligent individuals with whom you can interact productively. But even this is not necessary, and in any case, these individuals may be hard to find. To exaggerate somewhat, all real learning is via autodidacticism.