How to use this Page

By Graham Priest

If you go into a mathematics class of any university, it’s unlikely that you will find students reading Euclid. If you go into any physics class, it’s unlikely you’ll find students reading Newton. If you go into any economics class, you probably won’t find students reading Keynes. But if you go a philosophy class, it is not unusual to find students reading Plato, Kant, or Wittgenstein. Why? Cynics might say that all this shows is that there is no progress in philosophy. We are still thrashing around in the same morass that we have been thrashing around in for over 2,000 years. No one who understands the situation would be of this view, however.

So why are we still reading the great dead philosophers? Part of the answer is that the history of philosophy is interesting in its own right. It is fascinating, for example, to see how the early Christian philosophers molded the ideas of Plato and Aristotle to the service of their new religion. But that is equally true of the history of mathematics, physics, and economics. There has to be more to it than that—and of course there is.

Plato, Museo Pio-Clementino, Vatican

Great philosophical writings have such depth and profundity that each generation can go back and read them with new eyes, see new things in them, apply them in different ways. So we study the history of philosophy that we may do philosophy.

One of my friends said that he regards the history of philosophy as rather like a text book of chess openings. Just as it is part of being a good chess player to know the openings, it is part of being a good philosopher to know standard views and arguments, so that they can pick them up and run with them.

There is a lot of truth in this analogy, but it sells the history of philosophy short as well. Chess is pursued within a fixed and determinate set of rules. These cannot be changed. But part of good philosophy (like good art) involves breaking the rules. Past philosophers may have played by various sets of rule; but sometimes we can see their projects and ideas can fruitfully (perhaps more fruitfully) be articulated in different frameworks—perhaps frameworks of which they could have had no idea—and so which can plumb their ideas to depths of which they were not aware.

Such is my view anyway. It is certainly one that I try to put into practice in my own teaching and writing. I find that using the tools of modern formal logic is a particularly fruitful way of doing this. Let me give a couple of examples.

One debate in contemporary metaphysics concerns how the parts of an object cooperate to produce the unity which they constitute. The problem was put very much on the agenda by the great 19th century German philosopher and logician Gottlob Frege. Consider the thought that Pheidippides runs. This has two parts, Pheidippides and runs. But the thought is not simply a list, <Pheidippides, runs>. Somehow, the two parts join together. But how? Frege’s answer (we do not need to go in the details) ran into apparently insuperable problems.

Aristotle went part of the way to solving the problem over two millenia ago. He suggested that there must be something which joins the parts together, the form (morphe), F, of the proposition. But that can be only a start, as a number of the Medieval European philosophers noted. For <Pheidippides, F, runs> seems just as much a list as our original one, so there has to be something which joins all these things together—and we are off on a vicious infinite regress.

The regress is broken if F is actually identical with Pheidippides and runs. For then nothing is required to join F and Pheidippides: they are the same. Similarly for F and runs. But Pheidippides and runs are obviously not identical. So identity is not, as logicians say, transitive. You can have a=b and b=c without a=c. It is not clear that this is even a coherent possibility. Yet it is, as modern techniques in a branch of logic called paraconsistent logic can be used to show. I spare you the details.

A quite different problem concerns the topic in modern metaphysics called grounding. Some things depend for their existence on others. Thus, a chair depends for its existence on the molecules which are its parts; these, in turn, depend for their existence on the atoms which are their parts; and so on.

It contemporary debates, it is standardly assumed that this process must ground out in some fundamental bedrock of reality. That idea was attacked by the great Buddhist philosopher Nāgārjuna (c. 2c CE), with a swathe of arguments. Ontological dependence never terminates: everything depends on other things. Again, it is not clear, Nāgārjuna’s arguments notwithstanding, that the idea is coherent. If everything depends on other things, we have an obvious regress; and, it might well be thought, the regress is vicious. In fact, it is not. It can be shown to be coherent by a mathematical model employing mathematical structures called trees, all of whose branches may be infinitely long. Again, I spare you the details.

Of course, in explaining my two examples, I have slid over many important complexities and subtleties. However, they at least illustrate how the history of philosophy provides a mine of ideas. The ideas are by no means dead. They have potentials which only more recent developments—in the case of my examples, in contemporary logic and mathematics—can actualize. Those who know only the present of philosophy, and not the past, will never, of course, see this. That is why philosophers study the history of philosophy.

Graham Priest was educated at St. John’s College, Cambridge, and the London School of Economics. He has held professorial positions at a number of universities in Australia, the UK, and the USA. He is well known for his work on non-classical logic, and its application to metaphysics and the history of philosophy. He is author of One: Being an Investigation into the Unity of Reality and of its Parts, including the Singular Object which is Nothingness.

Subscribe to the OUPblog via email or RSS.
Subscribe to only philosophy articles on the OUPblog via email or RSS.

Images: Bust of Plato, Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons. Image of a graph as mathematical structure showing all trees with 1, 2, 3, or 4 leaves, Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.

The post Philosophy and its history appeared first on OUPblog.

        

Related Stories

• When science stopped being literature
• Logic and Buddhist metaphysics
• A question of consciousness

 

By Purdy, Director of Publicity

Michael Manner and I were English majors at Plattsburgh State before the days of email, before the days of the fax. Indeed, the modern technology of the time was floppy disk computers, and the CD was quickly replacing the cassette tape. Manner and I have kept in touch through the years and when we are together we often argue and bicker like a married couple about love, fear, greed, envy, lust, hypocrisy, music, cats v. dogs, words et al. I think the only thing we ever seem to agree on is that chocolate milk is the greatest invention ever. But enough about me, Manner is a freelance computer consultant living with his mangy, blind cat in Williamsburg Brooklyn, NY. His love of poetry dates back to when dinosaurs roamed the earth and he first heard the words “ugga bugga” uttered by a passing Neanderthal woman. He’s been writing verse since the Iron Age and one day hopes to be cited in the OED. His fave comic book hero is Batman. Despite all this I think is is a truly talented poet and have asked him to post some poems on this blog. You be his judge.

It never rains in Brooklyn.
I dream of being cold enough to dream of being this warm.
I could wrap myself in a blanket and sit by the fire –
eat hot soup –
turn on the lights.

I would shiver nostalgically and regress to Sunday showers and TV Dinners
watching the gray gloaming fade into black.
I remember being finite surrounded by cold.
But - it never rains in Brooklyn.

ShareThis

Sometimes things happen for a reason although you may not know or realize it at the time. Only later on do you see some type of plan in the works. Or perhaps fate taking a hand.

As a youngster attending afternoon Hebrew School, it was an activity I dreaded or at least disliked. After a full day of regular classes at school, an hour of having to learn a new language wasn't something I relished. Watching TV was definitely a more interesting option. However, go I did, balking all the way and trying to come up with new and creative excuses to stay home. Most didn't work.

In addition to my mother's determination to ensure that I get some type of Jewish educational background, my teacher who also happened to be the school's principal, did everything in his power to make sure I attended classes. This included the actual physical act of coming to our home to find out the reason for my absence, on occasion unbeknownst to my mother. In restrospect I thought it was a conspiracy between them to prevent me from enjoying life as a kid.

Obviously, the experience left a lasting impression since I wrote and sold a number of short stories based on my experience.

Every year I bring out my favorite story, "The Dreidel King" a.k.a. "The Chanukah King" and post it in the various forums. For me it's a "feel good" story that transcends religion. Another story about how the simplest act of lighting Chanukah candles brought an unexpected response from seniors, comes a close second.

It occurred at this stage of my life that I have the makings of a children's/family play and will use the content of both stories to this end. There are few plays that I'm aware of focusing on Chanukah, especially aimed at children so it's a labor of love.

As I wrote - sometimes things happen for a reason. At least I'd like to believe it.

Too Tired to Write
Is there an expression "Thank g-d it's Sunday night"
or can I just pretend there is and move on because
"Thank g-d it's Sunday night" and this past week is
in the can and history and I am
DONE
THINKING
TALKING
WALKING
DANCING
or any other physical activity that requires breathing,
other than LIVING

I'm trying to think of something funny
to close this post down
but I am too tired
to be funny

Sleep deprivation takes its toll. I'm off to see The Wizard...

We get letters. {}

Sometimes a story ends and you wonder what happened next. I fall in love with people I fall in love with in the pages of a book. I hate saying goodbye.

Because so many of you were interested in my Train Story-- see
http://writerross.livejournal.com/162689.html --

I thought you would enjoy reading a follow-up note from one of the characters of that tale. {} Who said words don't bring people to life? And now, Laura Seeley, the stage is yours:

hello from the Laura in this story
Hi Russell and Pamela, and thanks, Russ, for sharing the story behind the story with me. Aside from the fact that trains are my favorite mode of travel, Pamela so beautifully illustrated in her words, the warm and fuzzy that can be discovered tucked away amongst all the cold and hard.
Glad you guys met... Pamela, Russell has been and continues to be, one of my favorite humans.

Your story, as one of your comment-writers suggested, could be movie oriented, even a holiday story. And on that note may you both have happy ones.

Cheers from rainy San Francisco (and we need it!)

Laura

THANK YOU, Laura Seeley, for your lovely compliments. Oh if I could only be half of what you said. You made my day-- and this has not been my favorite day of all time. Call it...Grumpiness. Just spent the last hour calming down via e-mail with my wise pal Aud. (Thanks for being there.)

Thanks to Russell Shaw for making worlds (and words) collide. More Huffington Posts. Please. I'm on your Fan List. My friend gave me a mass market novel to read-- GOOD GRIEF by Lolly Winston- and I am just up the part where the main character is considering a big move to.. yes, Oregon. ;> I smell a conspiracy. You Oregonians are making Trails everywhere.

Thank you, Laura Seeley, thank you all, for coming to this Live Journal to let me know the world is filled with creative and bright souls. Picture it like one big train ride, tracks crossing in the wind, voices across the country searching--and finding-- a place that feels like home.

Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day...

CHANUKAH'S COMING. Candles, menorahs, gifts a-waiting.
Best Present Received this Week: I'm a lucky girl. Did YOU receive a Big Box of Pecans from the talented writer and lyricist KIM NORMAN? I did. With pleasure. Pecan-ic pleasure! Thanks, Kim. Be patient. I'm going to write a song for you. You deserve it.


Laura Seeley's work: beautiful, serene, makes you want to curl into their arms and just feel the love

NOTE TO MYSELF: ONCE UPON A TIME I HAD A DREIDEL

THE CHANUKAH KING
by Eleanor Tylbor


There was the usual sense of excitement among students attending the Chavarim Afternoon Hebrew School a couple weeks before the onset of Chanukah. Throughout the school spinning dreidels whirled around the floor surface in anticipation of the annual competition held on the first night of Chanukah. Even then practise was no guarantee of a successful outcome of deposing "the dreidel king" who was defending his title for the fourth year in a row.

If there was anyone who personified the ideal qualities in a student it was Zelig Bornstein. At ten years of age he could do no wrong. A brilliant student academically he was also blessed with the voice of an angel and it was a given that he would sing the part of lead candle in the annual Chanukah concert. As if that wasn't enough to cause jealousy and rivalry among classmates, he ALWAYS won the annual dreidel competition.

Among the students of Mr. Meldrum's class there was the general belief that his cobalt blue dreidel with gold lettering on the sides possessed magical properties. There could be no other explanation to account for his perpetual dominance other than a mysterious and powerful outside source was at work, unavailable to his classmates. A few brave participants had come close to deposing him but somehow Zelig always managed to win out in the end. To further undermine his competitors confidence "The Dreidel King" did nothing to dispel the air of mystery surrounding his acumen.

"It's all right here," he would boast when asked the secret of his success, pointing to his wrist and flicking his fingers one-by-one to demonstrate his unbeatable technique, "and my magical dreidel, of course."

He never divulged any background information on how it was acquired and neither would he allow anyone to touch it much less give it a spin, further adding to the mystique.

"He" doesn't like leaving my hands," he would proffer in the way of an excuse, speaking of his top as if it was a living thing or a pet.

Externally, I professed animosity towards him as did the others, but internally I adored him from afar. However, this did not diminish my desire to win and I practiced fervently in the hope of improving my spin. I longed to emerge victorious if for no other reason than to make Zelig aware that I was alive, or at least be aware of my presence. It wasn't considered socially unacceptable to acknowledge the existence of the opposite sex, and even if he did harbor some stirrings of romantic feelings, he hid them well from me.

It would be fair to say that nearly every student in Mr. Meldrum's class dreamed of wresting the title away from him. We discussed the situation amongst ourselves, plotting a course of action that could de-throne him. Dreidel tossing techniques were assessed including "spit-shots" in which the "toss-ee" would spit or lick fingers to acquire more control of the toss, disallowed by Mr. Meldrum for hygienic reasons. Finger exercises were evaluated in addition to the benefits of knuckle cracking workouts before the competition, all of which were eventually discarded as ineffectual. Deep down inside we knew that the end result was out of our hands in the true sense of the word, and in those of the fates. There was always the glimmer of hope that perhaps the fates would smile on one of us. Anyone of us except Zelig.

Like a conquering hero "King" Zelig took center-stage tossing his dreidel from hand-to-hand as he walked, attempting to psyche out the participants. It was a piece of pure theatre as he produced a blue satin drawstring bag and reaching in, retrieved the cobalt blue dreidel smiling all the while. We took our places around the table, our hands clasped around the dreidels, waiting for our turn.

As the reigning champion he spun first, achieving the "gimel" and winning the first round. Dreidel competitors fell one after the other until it was time for me as the last competitor to

One by one he knocked out of the game until finally it was my turn. All eyes were upon me as I opened up my hand, gently allowing a cobalt blue object with gold lettering on the sides to drop on the surface of the table. There was an audible gasp from my fellow students accompanied shortly thereafter by excited whispers.

"D'ya see her dreidel?" they asked each other. "It's the same one as Zelig?s!"

At tournament time a large table was set up in the middle of the classroom and dreidels distributed to students. King Zelig tossed his dreidl from hand-to-hand, smiling smugly and acting self-assured. As the reigning champion Zelig spun first, achieving the letter "g" or "gimel", which meant that he won the first round. One by one we took turns and I landed on "hay", acquiring half of the pot composed of chocolate coins and other goodies, which pleased me no end. For the next few turns the dreaded "shin" turned up denoting a loss, accompanied by groans of disappointment from fellow students. Like many of the stories we were told focusing on unsurpassable victories over adversity, things turned in my favor. The king was dethroned and long live the new champion. Me. Jubilant cheers broke out among fellow students as they savored the moment for which they had all waited. My adversary, meanwhile, appeared stunned and in shock. Consumed with laughter and staring triumphantly into his eyes, I couldn't help but notice his were brimming with tears. It was bad enough being dethroned but having it done by a girl, was more than his young ego could handle in one day.

I could have chosen to ignore him and savor the moment of victory, since it was a long time coming and it probably wouldn't happen again. Instead, upon realizing that he had been humiliated in front of his male friends, a final showdown was suggested to determine the final victor. Needless to say, he amazingly emerged victorious.

He never did acknowledge my presence or reach out to thank me for my selfless gesture, in all the years of our attending Hebrew school together. He did allow me to spin first in a subsequent re-match the following year, presumably as a good will gesture on his part. In my mind I would always be queen to his king be it only for one occasion and that was better than nothing. That's life. Sometimes you win and sometimes you gotta lose.

Click the play button on this flash player to listen to the podcast now:


Or click MP3 File to start your computer's media player.

SHOW NOTES:

This episode marks the 2nd year anniversary of The Book of Life! In this show, we celebrate the holiday of Hanukkah.

> Illustrator Ann Koffsky describes her snowflake "Jerusalem of Peace," created for Robert's Snow for Cancer's Cure. We also learn about her illustrations for My Cousin Tamar Lives in Israel by Michelle Shapiro Abraham, and her new Joyfully Jewish 2008 calendar.

> Author Sarah Marwil Lamstein and illustrator Neil Waldman discuss their picture book Letter on the Wind: A Chanukah Tale.

> Kenny Ellis, cantor and performer, riffs on his CD Hanukkah Swings! You can also check out Kenny's MySpace page, and download "Swingin' Dreidel" as a ringtone.

> Author Barbara Bietz talks about her chapter book Like a Maccabee, as well as her kidlit blog and her new position on the Sydney Taylor Book Award Committee, where she'll help choose the best Judaic children's books of the year.

NEWS:

Here is a special Hanukkah treat for you: a complete online version of the holiday classic, Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins by Eric A. Kimmel, provided by Lookybook. To hear from Eric himself about the inspiration for Hershel, you can read this post from my Library Blogathon or you can listen to the very first episode of The Book of Life from December 2005, when Eric was a featured guest. Enjoy!

Barbara Bietz, kidlit blogger, incoming member of the Sydney Taylor Book Award Committee, and author of Like a Maccabee, interviewed me for her blog! Click here to read the interview.

Turn about is fair play, so I'll be interviewing Barbara for the December 2007 episode of The Book of Life. Her entertaining chapter book is about Hanukkah, family... and soccer. (Who knew?)

Keep up with Barbara Bietz at http://www.barbarabietz.com/ or at barbarabbookblog.blogspot.com.