Over the course of his career, Gianni Vattimo has assumed a number of public and private identities and has pursued multiple intellectual paths. He seems to embody several contradictions, at once defending and questioning religion and critiquing and serving the state. Yet the diversity of his life and thought form the very essence of, as he sees it, the vocation and responsibility of the philosopher. In a world that desires quantifiable results and ideological expediency, the philosopher becomes the vital interpreter (...) of the endlessly complex. As he outlines his ideas about the philosopher's role, Vattimo builds an important companion to his life's work. He confronts questions of science, religion, logic, literature, and truth, and passionately defends the power of hermeneutics to engage with life's conundrums. Vattimo conjures a clear vision of philosophy as something separate from the sciences and the humanities but also intimately connected to their processes, and he explicates a conception of truth that emphasizes fidelity and participation through dialogue. (shrink)

Let me begin with what may seem a very minor point, but one which I think reveals something about how many philosophers today conceive of their subject. During the past few decades, there has been an increasing tendency for references in philosophy books and articles to be formatted in the ‘author and date’ style (‘see Fodor (1996)’, ‘see Smith (2001)’.) A neat and economical reference system, you may think; and it certainly saves space, albeit inconveniencing readers by forcing them to (...) flip back to the end of the chapter or book to find the title of the work being referred to. But what has made this system so popular among philosophers? A factor which I suspect exerts a strong subconscious attraction for many people is that it makes a philosophy article look very like a piece of scientific research. For if one asks where the ‘author-date’ system originated, the answer is clear: it comes from the science journals. And in that context, the choice of referencing system has a very definite rationale. In the progress-driven world of science, priority is everything, and it's vitally important for a career that a researcher is able to proclaim his work as breaking new ground. Bloggs (2005) developed a technique for cloning a certain virus; Coggs (2006) showed how certain bits of viral DNA could be spliced; and now Dobbs (2007) draws on both techniques to develop the building blocks of a new vaccine. The idea is that our knowledge-base is enhanced, month by month and year by year, in small incremental steps (perhaps with occasional major breakthroughs); and in the catalogue of advances, the date tagged to each name signals when progress was made, and by whom. (shrink)

The Clifford of my title is W. K. Clifford, who is perhaps best known as the exponent of a certain ethic of belief – an ethic of belief that he was probably the first to formulate explicitly and which no one has defended with greater eloquence or moral fervor. In the lecture called, appropriately enough, ‘The Ethics of Belief,’ Clifford summarized his ethic in a single, memorable sentence: ‘It is wrong always, everywhere, and for any one, to believe anything upon (...) insufficient evidence’. It will be convenient for us to have a name for this ethical thesis. I will call it ‘ethical evidentialism’ – ‘evidentialism’ for short. (shrink)

The remarks which follow are intended to address a certain apparent asymmetry as between German and Anglo-Saxon philosophy. Put most simply, it is clear to every philosopher moving backwards and forwards between the two languages that the translation of an Anglo-Saxophone philosophical text into German is in general a much easier task than is the translation of a German philosophical text into English. The hypothesis suggests itself immediately that this is so because English philosophical writings are in the main clear (...) and intelligible, and therefore easy to translate. The texts of German philosophy, on the other hand, both classical and contemporary, seem in many cases to be marked by stylistic obscurities or idiosyncracies of a sort which make them not translatable in the strict sense at all. (shrink)

In this paper, I discuss the Agrégation de Philosophie—the French national examination that certifies philosophy teachers for both lycée and university instruction—in terms of the role it has played in the intellectual formation of all French philosophers and, as a corollary, its impact on developments in 20th-century French philosophy. Following a recounting of the history and structure of the examination, I discuss how the examination reveals that a thorough grounding in the history of philosophy, especially pre-1800 philosophy, is a necessary (...) condition for employment as an instructor of philosophy. After discussing the connections between the examination and the teaching activities of the Sorbonne’s Department of Philosophy, I analyze the content of the exam, showing how it offers important insights into the French philosophical tradition and how it differs from the English language and German philosophical traditions. I conclude by examining in detail the appearances of Comte, Plotinus, and Nietzsche on the examination, showing how their appearances correlate with publication trends as well as the careers of influential philosophers. (shrink)

“If you can keep your head while people all around you are losing theirs,” the saying goes, “maybe you just don’t understand the situation.” There are times when this is no mere joke. And so one may likewise wonder about the fact that philosophy seems to be relatively free of the kind of canon warfare that has become one of the hallmarks of the humanities in recent years, despite the fact that, as canons go, ours is almost paradigmatic. Don’t we (...) understand the situation? Don’t philosophers realize that canons are supposed to be either venerated, valorized, vindicated, and vaunted or else vilified, vitiated, and eviscerated if not simply verboten, but in any case vociferously and violently fought about? Why don’t we do that? Why don’t we go at each other about it the way our colleagues in other disciplines do? Are we so slow on the up-take that we haven’t caught on yet? Or are we so bloodless that we can’t even get worked up about issues relating to the heart and soul of our very enterprise? (shrink)

In 1981, after 20 years of teaching and writing philosophy, Derrida claimed that ‘less than ever’ did he ‘know what philosophy is’. Indeed, his ‘knowledge of what ... constitutes the essence of philosophy’ remained ‘at zero degree’. 1 These were not flippant remarks. Rather, Derrida’s avowed uncertainty is part of a more general metaphilosophical view; namely, that ‘Philosophy has a way of being at home with itself that consists in not being at home with itself’. 2 In this article I (...) will critically reconstruct and develop this view, paying particular attention to the ‘institutional’ dimension of contemporary philosophy. (shrink)

Widespread and lasting consensus has not been philosophy's fate. Indeed, one of philosophy's most striking features is its ability to accommodate “not only different answers to philosophical questions” but also “total disagreement on what questions are philosophical” (Rorty 1995, 58). It is therefore hardly surprising that philosophers' responses to this metaphilosophical predicament have been similarly varied. This article considers two recent diagnoses of philosophical diversity: Kornblith and Rescher (respectively) claim that taking philosophical disagreement seriously does not lead to metaphilosophical scepticism. (...) The article argues that their confidence is misplaced in so far as both wrongly assume that ordinary, first-order philosophical practice and second-order metaphilosophical reflection are separate enterprises. We can say that the universe consists of a substance, and this substance we will call “atoms,” or else we will call it “monads.” Democritus called it atoms. Leibniz called it monads. Fortunately, the two men never met, or there would have been a very dull argument. (Allen 1997, 171) When will philosophers learn to be less pretentious and arrogant in their claims? One would imagine that the philosophic experiences of twenty-five centuries would have taught them the fallacy of self-esteem! (Schilpp 1935, 233). (shrink)

When invited to consider the methodology of contemporary metaphysics, quite a number of procedures spring to mind as part of the metaphysician's toolkit. These include: eliciting and relying on intuitions; solving location problems and using “conceptual analysis”; inference to the best theory, both on internal metaphysical grounds and drawing from the theoretical reaches of the sciences; working on topics clearly close to, or even overlapping, those of other areas of inquiry using techniques of those other areas; achieving coherence with other (...) theories developed with other aims; and employing deductive reasoning to yield surprising conclusions. Many of these techniques are associated with significant and growing literatures about their scope, epistemic justification, suitability to different metaphysical problems, and so on. (shrink)

Traditional representations of philosophy have tended to prize the role of reason in the discipline. These accounts focus exclusively on ideas and arguments as animating forces in the field. But anecdotal evidence and more rigorous sociological studies suggest there is more going on in philosophy. In this article, we present two hypotheses about social factors in the field: that social factors influence the development of philosophy, and that status and reputation—and thus social influence—will tend to be awarded to philosophers who (...) offer rationally compelling arguments for their views. In order to test these hypotheses, we need a more comprehensive grasp on the field than traditional representations afford. In particular, we need more substantial data about various social connections between philosophers. This investigation belongs to a naturalized metaphilosophy, an empirical study of the discipline itself, and it offers prospects for a fuller and more reliable understanding of philosophy. (shrink)

Abstract: Philosophy is often conceived in the Anglophone world today as a subject that focuses on questions in particular “core areas,” pre-eminently epistemology and metaphysics. This article argues that the contemporary conception is a new version of the scholastic “self-indulgence for the few” of which Dewey complained nearly a century ago. Philosophical questions evolve, and a first task for philosophers is to address issues that arise for their own times. The article suggests that a renewal of philosophy today should turn (...) the contemporary conception inside out, attending to and developing further the valuable work being done on the supposed “periphery” and attending to the “core areas” only insofar as is necessary to address genuinely significant questions. (shrink)

The author recalls some of the reasons why analytical philosophy has been foreign to contemporary fre philosophical tradition. Presenting some recent work by contemporary fre philosophers influenced by analytic philosophy, He shows that most of them share the view that philosophy is a kind of transcendental inquiry on the nature and limits of language, And that recent trends in analytical philosophy, Such as scientific realism and "naturalised epistemology" are not well represented in france.

Analytic philosophy is sometimes said to have particularly close connections to logic and to science, and no particularly interesting or close relation to its own history. It is argued here that although the connections to logic and science have been important in the development of analytic philosophy, these connections do not come close to characterizing the nature of analytic philosophy, either as a body of doctrines or as a philosophical method. We will do better to understand analytic philosophy—and its relationship (...) to continental philosophy—if we see it as a historically constructed collection of texts, which define its key problems and concerns. It is true, however, that analytic philosophy has paid little attention to the history of the subject. This is both its strength—since it allows for a distinctive kind of creativity—and its weakness—since ignoring history can encourage a philosophical variety of “normal science.”. (shrink)

What are the philosophical views of contemporary professional philosophers? We surveyed many professional philosophers in order to help determine their views on 30 central philosophical issues. This article documents the results. It also reveals correlations among philosophical views and between these views and factors such as age, gender, and nationality. A factor analysis suggests that an individual's views on these issues factor into a few underlying components that predict much of the variation in those views. The results of a metasurvey (...) also suggest that many of the results of the survey are surprising: philosophers as a whole have quite inaccurate beliefs about the distribution of philosophical views in the profession. (shrink)

TIME and again over the centuries, philosophers have dwelt with dismay on the inability of their discipline to lay to rest the disagreements of the past and to reach fixed and settled conclusions. Philosophers have often cast envious sidelong glances at the sciences, with their demonstrated capacity to solve the problems and settle the controversies of the field, and to yield a continually increasing number of established findings with respect to which a general consensus can be achieved.

PERHAPS THE MOST STRIKING FEATURE of professional philosophy in North America at this historic juncture is its scope and scale. The historian Bruce Kuklick entitled his informative study of academic philosophy in the United States, The Rise of American Philosophy: 1860-1930, even though his book dealt only with the Department of Philosophy of Harvard University. This institution's prominence on the American philosophical scene in the early years of the century was such that this parochial-seeming narrowing of focus to one single (...) department--with its half-dozen or so philosophers--was not totally absurd for the period at issue. But today it would certainly be so. The American Philosophical Association, to which most United States academic practitioners of the discipline belong, presently has more than eight thousand members, and the comprehensive Directory of American Philosophers for 1992-1993 lists well over ten thousand philosophers affiliated to colleges and universities in the United States and Canada. Admittedly, this profession is small potatoes compared with other academic enterprises; the Scientific Research Society Sigma XI currently has a membership of more than one hundred thousand scientists, and the Modern Language Association has more than thirty-two thousand members. All the same, a small town of not inconsiderable size could be populated exclusively with contemporary North American academic philosophers. To be sure, its demographics would be rather unusual. Only just under twenty percent would be women; and blacks, Hispanics, and Asian-Americans would constitute just over one percent of the population. The social classes above and below the middle are underrepresented in this community, and a disproportionate fraction of its members comes from families of professional status. Moreover, for reasons that require a deeper sociological analysis than can be attempted here, the profession attracts a disproportionately larger fraction of Catholics, Jews, and immigrants. (shrink)

Why is so much philosophy so tedious? Not, or not simply, because it is technical and complex, but because—too often—it displays mere cleverness. Implausible theories are defended against objections by ever more sophisticated technical fiddling with the details. Originality and creativity are in short supply. I argue that this is bad for philosophy, bad for philosophers, and almost inevitable given various structural features of the profession which require early and prolific publication. As a profession we are autonomous—we could change our (...) structures if we chose. (shrink)